#but I know if I don't choose something I'll do none of them in the end LMAO
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khaire-traveler · 2 days ago
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Hello there! I'm very new to hellenic polytheism and came across a question that I am not sure how to approach. I would be really grateful if you could let me know your thoughts on this (please don't feel obligated or anything, tho. I know I am just a random person asking a random question 🫣). So, for a while now, I've been getting more into greek mythology and from there into fandoms that depict the deities (e.g. Epic the musical which I love a lot). Would you say it is inappropriate to seek out fanfiction or fanart (especially those including ships) in those fandoms, or should I refrain from doing that as it would be disrespectful? Or are there limits I should be aware of? Thank you so much should you choose to answer this 💜 (I apologise for missing paragraphs. I am not sure how to do those on mobile.) (Also, is there a right way to end these kinds of letters/messages/questions? Like a way to express my gratefulness?) (Sorry if none of this makes sense. I always get anxious messaging strangers, but I couldn't find answers anywhere, so I thought I'd just ask🫣)
Khaire, Melie!
Ah, yes. The age-old question. How sinful is fanfiction, exactly? /joke (wanted to start this off light-hearted)
In all seriousness, I'll start with this: If you want to know how the gods feel about it, ask them. There is no better answer than the one that comes directly from the source. I understand the nerves around asking this question; some Hellenic Polytheists feel VERY strongly about it, and honestly, seeing their strong opinions has made me doubt my own interests in such media. Remember that some rando's opinion online, however, isn't the law, regardless of how strongly they feel about it or how desperately they want you to do exactly what they're doing. Opinions are opinions; facts are facts - they are separate things. Personally - and this is MY opinion -I think never engaging with modern media depicting the gods is a little too strict of an approach, and by following that, I feel that a lot of people are banning themselves from engaging with fictional media that they might enjoy. Each piece of modern media about the gods is a creative interpretation of Greek mythology, and people have been doing this kind of thing with other religions - that they don't believe in - for AGES. It's entirely normal, even if it is kind of annoying sometimes. Now, some retellings, games, shows, etc. genuinely take things too far, in my opinion, and warp the mythology so completely that it might as well be a different story entirely. I'm bordering on a tangent, so I'll move on.
Modern media about the gods isn't an inherently abhorrent, evil thing that should always be avoided, however, but personally, I do draw the line of engagement at shipping.
First and foremost, live your life the way you want to. Engage with your practice however you wish. I'm not the law-maker of this religion - no one is - and while I might disagree with someone's approach, I'm not going to shit all over them for doing things differently from myself. Now, into my opinion. I don't think shipping gods - be it from a modern form of media or not - that you worship is appropriate, personally. In my experience, it will blur your actual perception of those gods. I've seen it happen over and over again that people confuse the fictional representation of their God in media with the actual god, then feel the need to distance themselves from the media in order to regain something they feel that they lost. Like I said, you do whatever you wish, but I find it's just better to avoid the awkwardness of shipping entirely.
If you want to read fanfiction about the gods in fictional media, go for it, but I'm not personally a big fan of that. I don't know how the gods feel about it; I can't speak for them (no one can). For all I know, they could be reading the fanfiction themselves and laughing their asses off, who knows? But as a worshipper, I'm not personally comfortable with the idea of reading it. Again, do what you want with your life. If you want to read some spicy fanfic of one god with another, I'm literally not going to stop you, but make sure you're able to separate the fictional characters from the gods you actually worship before you do so - that's my advice. Too often, people end up conflating the two. When a fandom or fanfiction begins affecting your worship, practice, or even just the way you view the gods, that's when it's a problem.
I think the community has been torn on the topic of modern media for a while. Some people love it, while others utterly despise it, and you'll notice that answers will vary from person to person. In my opinion, these pieces of media become problematic when they swarm the fuck out of a small religious community that already struggles to be taken seriously. An example of this is what happened with Lore Olympus a while back. When the comic got popular, a ton of people would swarm and attack worshippers of Apollo online, calling them all sorts of extremely vile things, all because of a comic that literally wasn't even mythologically accurate. In my opinion, fandoms can get out of control sometimes, and when you're engaging with one based around the gods, I advise you to just be careful and aware. For some people, fanart and fanfiction of the gods are extremely uncomfortable, similarly to if someone were to ship Buddha with Jesus in the regard that it just...feels weird for people who actually worship those figures. Other people could care less, being able to fully separate the fictional characters from the gods they worship. Base it on your comfort, and the comfort of your gods.
I hope this helped to give you my perspective. I'm not going to tell you what is or isn't the right choice because honestly, different people will give you a different answer, and I'm anything but a religious authority. You're allowed to do as you wish, but I will always advise you to tread with caution and check in with yourself about how it feels for you personally. Reach out to your gods and directly ask them (such as through tarot, or another form of divination), "Hey, how do you feel about me engaging with this?" Asking directly is ALWAYS a good idea, in my experience. Take care, Melie. 🧡
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lesbianneopolitan · 1 year ago
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Starting the morning listening to Chatterbox tho
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freethefable · 2 years ago
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having a bad time :thumbsup:
#ignore this ofc i'm yelling because i don't have a therapist#i would love to have one but the cons are a lot right now#i have no car to get there and doing it remotely is fine but not private since this fucking house is an echo chamber#maybe i can invest in some of that audio dampening stuff#that's actually not a bad idea but damn all that and paying for therapy is just. cool#anyway i'm having a big sad and needed to type for a bit mainly because there is no one to say this to#it's everything everywhere all at once time once again it's a shame i've never seen that movie but still really want to#i've been having trouble sleeping because of restless thoughts due to work or my personal shit that I cannot resolve in any way that matter#so i'll either stay awake half a-fucking-sleep unable to keep my eyes open to distract myself with whatever or i'll suddenly wake up#and then be consequently plunged into a mass anxiety ridden thought avalanche#to my knowledge i've never had an anxiety attack but my coping mechanisms historically aren't the best either even if effective at the time#once again it's like hm don't i have something in my life i am proud of or something that i can present to myself to be ok for now but no#there are always always more cons than pros and of course that's how i see it because negative self talk and bias etc all the therapyisms#and by the trope i LOGICALLY know and have a version of myself outside myself that says ah yes you are experiencing xyz#but of course it's not really that bad there's something you can do about this you just choose not to actively take steps says the me#and YES i KNOW but there's always a but whether it's time or motivation or god forbid women do anything like have no fucking life#so your main problem of loneliness/no friends doesn't get fucking solved because no one will take the time to begin to care#because i am not a multifaceted human with experiences and completely coherent and intelligent thoughts about important topics#i have none of that because at some point in my life i decided to say fuck that and do pleasure instead easy route only#you can't make friends if the only thing you care about is them caring enough to be your friend#if I am not immediately intelligent or interesting enough to capture someone's attention am I even worth keeping#and i could DO something about it I could go and LEARN and go HAVE experiences and make myself better#and maybe eventually i'll feel good enough but by that point it will be so so late#and i'm really worried that i won't make it in time for me#i gotta stop before i legit cry since i just wanted to type a bit but there's a big friend shaped hole in my heart#and i'm paralyzed for how to fix it with everything else going on#i'm this malformed amalgamation of a person with rounded edges no thoughts and nothing important to say
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wholoveseggs · 4 months ago
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I’m so upset with the lack of Daemon requests so I wanted to give you a challenge.
Reader x Daemon on a dragon. That is all :)
Ride the Sky
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Hightower!Reader} As the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower, your own life feels completely out of your control. But a chance encounter with Prince Daemon gives you the opportunity to step out of your cage and touch the sky.
♡♡ ahhhh I love you @elijahstwink, this was such a fun idea & I 100% believe Daemon would do this... ♡♡
4.8k words - Warnings: smut, hightower!reader, fingering, sex on dragon back, daemon being a flirt & hating Otto, kinda mentions of marital rape? tyland lannister {ew} && caraxes being the best noodle boi...
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}
@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer @cheneyq @fallout-girl219
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The tower of the hand was always such a foreboding place for you. It never meant good news when you were summoned and this time was no different. You stood there, shifting from foot to foot, and finally, the man you were supposed to call father, turned around from the window. He had been watching the city below, and now his gaze was on you.
"I've heard rumors," he said and you flinched. This wasn't the first time he had accused you of doing something inappropriate. In his mind, a lady was a lady, and she should act accordingly. But it seemed no matter how hard you tried to please him, nothing you ever did was good enough.
You opened your mouth to respond, but he waved you away. "I don't want to hear your excu-”
"I wish to know what I've been accused of, then," you snapped back, your own temper getting the better of you. You knew you would pay for that later, but right now, you wanted to hear what it was.
"That you've been imbibing in too much wine and games, not focusing on your duties as a lady of the court," he said sharply, looking back down at his papers. He began writing and you stood there, seething.
"So?" you finally asked, and he looked back up at you.
"It's unbecoming," he replied, his tone laced with condescension, "Especially when you are here at court, looking for a husband. Any potential suitors do not wish to have a drunken wife. It will not look good for him."
You sighed. It was always about men, what would please them, what would make them happy. Never you. And the way Otto looked at you, the disdain in his eyes, you knew what was coming. He had been making the same noises for a while, that he needed to find a match for you, and it seemed as if he had finally found one.
"Lord Lannister is a powerful ally," he began, and you immediately felt your temper rise again. You bit back the urge to yell at him.
"And you think I'll be a perfect wife for him? A boring drunkard whose bed I'll have to warm?" you asked, and you could feel the tears welling up.
Otto's expression was hard. "I would think him being a drunkard would be something you have in common," he replied.
He could see the distress on your face and his voice softened just a little. "We must look to the future of House Hightower, and Lord Tyland would make a fine match for you."
You shook your head, tears spilling over. "I don't want him-”
"And what is it that you want?" Otto snapped.
You stared at him. You wanted so much, and none of it was the life he would choose for you. You couldn't stand it anymore, and you spun on your heel, heading for the door.
He didn't try to stop you, and you didn't care.
You didn't want to go back to your chambers, because Alicent would be there, and you couldn't face her either. So, instead, you went outside to the garden, trying to find a quiet spot where you could cry and hopefully not be found.
You found a stone bench, tucked away in a quiet corner and sat down. The tears flowed freely, and you cried and cried, wondering what would happen now, what would become of your life.
You felt as if it had been planned out without any input from you, and now you were going to have to marry a man who was full and passionless. All because it was what was good for the family, and what was best for House Hightower.
It wasn't fair.
You let out a sob and stood up, looking for something to throw, to break, just to let out the anger and frustration that was coursing through you.
Your eyes fell on a statue.
It was one of the Kings, long dead, but you couldn't remember which one. You glared at it and then, without a second thought, gave it a shove.
It didn't fall over, but it teetered a little, and then settled back.
"Is that how we honor our kings now, by toppling their statues?" "A voice said, and you whirled around. Prince Daemon was standing there, looking at the statue, and then you, a small smirk on his face.
"I-I didn't mean," you stammered, wiping your tears, but he held up his hand.
He didn't say a word, just walked over to the bench. He motioned for you to sit, and you did. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, and you tried to control your tears.
Your father loathed the prince, and therefore you were expected to avoid him. You had seen him only once or twice, and the first time you had seen him, you were a girl of ten, and he had just turned seventeen.
You remembered seeing him, and being amazed by the beauty of him. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and the fact that he was a prince just made him all the more alluring.
You remembered asking your father if you could marry the prince. Your father had laughed, and told you no, he was not suited for you.
Of course, that hadn't stopped you from having the occasional daydream about the two of you, and here he was, sitting next to you, while you were crying over the thought of your father giving you to an old man.
"What is it like," you asked him, sniffling slightly, "To have the freedom to do what you wish?"
He gave a slight chuckle. "Freedom is an illusion," he replied, his voice quiet, "We are all prisoners in one way or another, even kings,"
"Then I wish for my prison to have a dragon," you muttered bitterly, immediately regretting the words. It wasn't proper to speak to him like that, but he only laughed.
"Perhaps one day," he said, his gaze settling on your face. You could feel his eyes on you, and you blushed, ducking your head.
"Why do you ask about freedom, Lady Hightower," he said in an almost teasing tone, "Is your life not everything a lady could want?"
You didn't meet his gaze, and he observed you thoughtfully, you were a mystery to him as much as he was to you.
"Or perhaps, it is not," he said, his eyes narrowing, "Perhaps you want more than what your father will allow,"
There was a bitterness in his tone when he mentioned your father, the disdain they had for each other was no secret. You didn't wish to add to it, but you couldn't stop the words from spilling out.
"My father is marrying me off to Tyland Lannister," you said, and his lips curved into a small smile.
"And I assume that is why you're here, hiding in the garden," he replied, and you nodded.
He was still watching you, and his gaze made you feel uncomfortable, but in a good way. "I don't want some dull drunkard in my bed, I want..."
You trailed off. It was an improper thing to say, he was the prince, your better. You shouldn't be speaking this way.
"Say it," he said, his voice soft, yet commanding.
"I want my husband to be able to bring me pleasure," you said, the words falling from your lips.
He chuckled, a deep rumble that came from within his chest. You felt even more ashamed by his response, here was the prince laughing at you, thinking you foolish and stupid.
You stood, trying to hide the fresh tears threatening to spill. "I should return to the keep," you said, "Thank you for the company, your grace,"
You took a step, and then suddenly his hand was around your wrist. His touch made your skin feel hot and a strange sensation spread between your legs. You gasped softly, and he stood up, stepping closer.
He towered over you, his blonde hair gleaming in the sun, and his violet eyes were dark and intense, his lips were still curved in a smile, and he was close enough for you to smell him, the scent of smoke, leather and musk.
"Would you like a taste of freedom?" he asked, his voice low. "Before your cage closes,"
"I-I-Yes," you stammered.
He pulled you with him, and you followed.
He led you down the paths and out the gate, along the long stone road to the dragon pit. The guards bowed, and let him pass, and then, to your amazement, he led you into the pit itself.
"My Prince-” you gasped, but he held up his hand again, silencing you.
In the dark of the cave, you could hear them stirring, the great beasts of his house. There was a deep rumble, a sound that felt ancient and primal, and a shadow fell over the both of you.
You stepped back, fear making your heart race. He turned, and you saw the amusement in his face. "Don't worry," he said, "He won't hurt you, unless I tell him to,"
You heard the sounds of his dragon moving forward, and a large snout appeared from the darkness.
"Lady Hightower, meet Caraxes," Daemon said, gesturing to the beast with a wide smile on his face.
You could only stare as the dragon came forward. His body was covered in red scales, and the wings were enormous, his claws scraped against the stone floor, his neck long like that of a snake, and he had a crown of horns on his head.
You have never seen one up close before, only ever far away and up high in the sky. But now, here, in front of you, he was a sight to behold.
Daemon reached out his hand and the dragon nuzzled it, his large, golden eyes fixing on you. He whispered something to the beast, in the language of Valyria, and then turned to you, beckoning you closer.
You hesitated, and he smiled. "It's alright," he said, holding out his hand.
Tentatively, you reached out and touched his palm, letting him take your hand in his. It was soft and warm, and his long fingers curled around yours. He raised it, and pressed it to the dragon's snout.
His scales were smooth and hot to the touch, and the dragon exhaled a deep breath, the sound like a purr. You could feel his breath on your face, and it smelled of sulfur and heat, and underneath that, the metallic scent of blood.
He nuzzled you, his eyes half closing. Daemon smiled and let go of your hand, and you stroked the dragon, amazed.
"He's beautiful," you said softly, admiring the red of his scales and the gold of his eyes.
"Yes," Daemon replied, his gaze fixed on you.
Caraxes pulled away and then, to your astonishment, the dragon lay down on the ground. You looked at Daemon, not understanding, and his smile grew.
"I promised you a taste of freedom, didn't I," he said, and suddenly you realized what he meant.
You watched, amazed as he climbed onto the dragon's back, and held out his hand to you. "Come," he said.
You stared up at him. His hand outstretched, waiting for you to take it. You didn't know what to do. Your father would be furious if he found out. But this was an opportunity you might not get again.
Without hesitation, you put your hand in his, and let him pull you up, settling you in front of him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. Your skirts were in the way, and you struggled to find a comfortable position. You were suddenly very aware of the heat of his body behind you.
"Here," he said softly, his hands moving up your thighs, and then, you felt his hands bunching up your skirt, until the material was up around your hips.
The dragon raised his head, and stretched his wings, a deafening screech filling the air. You could feel him move, the muscles in his shoulders shifting, his body flexing.
With one last scream, he began to move forward, at a speed faster than anything you had ever seen, and suddenly, with a running leap, his body was rising. Daemon had his arms wrapped around you, holding on to the reins as Caraxes' wings beat against the air.
He rose, higher and higher, and suddenly the ground was falling away below you, and the sky opened up before you. You could feel the dragon's strength as he climbed, the power in his body, and the heat and the wind and the roar of his wings.
The sky was a beautiful mix of reds, oranges and pinks as the sun began to set. You could see the Red Keep and the city below, the winding streets and the river and the ocean beyond. It was a breathtaking sight.
Daemon said something in Valyrian, and the dragon gave a cry and suddenly he was moving forward, gliding along the air, his wings spread.
The horizon was endless, the clouds were around you, and the world seemed small and insignificant, all your problems forgotten, at least for a moment.
"Does it feel like freedom, lady Hightower," he murmured, his lips against your ear.
You flushed at his closeness, the warmth of his body and his voice. "Yes," you whispered.
He took your hands, placing them on the reins. You held tight, feeling the dragon move beneath you, the muscles and tendons rippling, the scales smooth and hot.
"Hold them tightly, and pull on them, to turn him," he said.
You did as he instructed, and Caraxes changed course, heading north. The dragon rumbled and roared, a loud squeaking sound that made you laugh.
You felt Daemon smile against your neck, his hands winded around your waist, one hand pressing into your stomach, and the other resting on your thigh, his long fingers curling around the hem of your skirt, the fabric flapping in the wind.
He held you like that, his grip strong and steady. You didn't want it to end, this freedom, the feeling of his arms around you and the dragon flying beneath you.
The hand that was pressed against your stomach moved lower, his fingertips brushing the inside of your thigh. You wanted him to continue, but you also wanted him to stop. It was not appropriate, and you were unsure of what to do.
"My Prince," you said softly, a hot flush coming over you. He was touching you in a way no one ever had, and the feeling was overwhelming.
"You are far too beautiful to marry some dull Lannister cunt," he said, his voice low, his lips grazing your neck. His hand slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress with it. Your breath hitched as his fingers moved underneath the linen shift you wore, brushing the soft, wet flesh between your legs.
"This isn't proper, my Prince," you said, trying to focus on the reins and not the way his hand was making you feel.
"And who is here to see? Or to hear?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, "Only my dragon, and I don't think he'll care,"
He pressed a kiss to the spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, and you inhaled sharply, your body arching into his. He smiled, his fingers finding the small nub of pleasure between your legs, brushing over it softly. Your hips jerked and you gasped, your head falling back against his chest.
"A woman like you should be in control of who she gives her maidenhead to," he whispered, sucking little marks onto the delicate skin of your neck, "Who gives you that pleasure you crave."
The wind was cool on your skin, but inside you burned. He was igniting a fire deep within you and you were powerless to stop it.
His fingers moved faster, circling the little bud and then stroking it. He knew exactly how to touch you, and you were helpless under his hands.
You knew that you were being indecent, letting him fuck you with his hand, your skirts shoved up, the dragon soaring through the sky. Your father would kill you if he knew. But the thought of it made you only wetter, and you began to push harder against his hand.
"That's it, chase the feeling," he breathed, his fingers moving faster, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you back against him. You could feel the hardness of his cock, pressing against your back, and the knowledge that he was aroused by you, only made the sensation stronger.
Your hands let go of the reins and Daemon quickly grabbed them with his free hand, keeping the dragon steady. You clutched his arm, your body shaking, the pressure building inside you, your legs trembling.
You let out a cry, and then stars were exploding behind your eyes and he was whispering to you, soft and low, encouraging you as you felt yourself fall apart, coming undone.
You slumped against him, the tension leaving your body, and he was there, holding you. You felt his chest rumble with a laugh and you managed to get yourself upright.
You looked at him, his violet eyes, the smirk on his face. You reached out and touched his cheek, and then pulled him towards you, kissing him.
His lips were soft and warm, and he kissed you back, his tongue parting your lips and entering your mouth. It was a deep, passionate kiss, and when he finally pulled away, you were breathing hard.
He smiled, his eyes darting from your lips down your chest. "Perhaps we should return to the keep, my Lady," he said, his tone amused, "before we get carried away,"
You looked down, and saw the sprawling countryside, a sea of green dotted with little villages and the faint outlines of crops and farmland.
"Where are we?" you asked.
"Near Duskendale," he said, his eyes boring into you. He gave you a smile, and in that moment, you lost yourself completely, mesmerized by him and everything that had just happened.
Daemon pulled on the reins, yelling something in Valyrian. The dragon gave a loud screech, and began to descend. He guided Caraxes lower, heading for a field near a small village.
The dragon landed gracefully, his wings folding against his body. The trees and grass bent in the wind from his wings, and the few animals nearby scattered. You could feel the rumble as his belly hit the ground, and then he was still, his breathing deep and steady.
Daemon hopped off the dragon and held his arms out to you. You let him help you down, his hands sliding around your waist. As your feet touched the ground you stumbled, your legs were weak and shaky, and you had to cling to his arm to keep from falling.
His eyes met yours and he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were soft and firm, and you melted into the kiss, your fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair. He pressed you into Caraxes side, the dragon curled around the two of you protectively, his tail flicking lazily.
The beast was warm against your back, you could feel its chest expand with each deep breath, a gentle rattling sound coming from it.
Daemon broke the kiss, nuzzling into your neck. Your whole body was on fire, and you could feel the heat of him pressed against you.
"Would you like me to make you come again, lady Hightower," he whispered, his teeth grazing your skin.
"My Prince... I've never...," you managed to get out, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Better me than a Lannister, yes?" he said, a smirk on his face.
You blushed furiously, unable to respond. He was right. You didn't want to give your maidenhead to some Lannister bore. You wanted it to be him.
Caraxes curled tighter around the two of you, warm and surprisingly still, his long neck and head outstretched, surveying the area around you. His eyes were lazy, and he was making a strange rumbling sound, almost content, like a big cat.
Daemon looked up at him, smiling at the beast, then back to you, his hands moving up to cradle your face. He leaned in and captured your lips in a hot, searing kiss that had you clinging to him.
His hands dropped to your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hard length of him against your belly, and a hot ache settled between your legs. You had never felt like this before, so hungry, so desperate.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck. His hands moved down, pushing the skirt of your dress up and bunching the fabric around your waist. He lifted your thigh, hooking it around his hip.
With his other hand he unlaced his trousers, freeing his hard cock. You had never seen a man's cock before, and the sight of his had you blushing even deeper. It was thick and long, the tip pink and leaking a clear fluid.
He smiled, seeing the look on your face, "go on, touch it," he said, his voice low.
Tentatively, you reached out, your hand wrapping around his shaft. He was hot and hard in your palm, the skin smooth and velvety. You moved your hand up and down, marveling at the way he grew harder and thicker.
Your eyes flickered back up to his face. He had a satisfied smile on his lips, his violet eyes dark and intense.
"Like this," he said, placing his hand over yours and guiding you. He showed you how to stroke him, the pressure and speed. When he let go, you continued, enjoying the way his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his lips parting as he breathed heavily.
You watched him, entranced by the sight of him, his pleasure growing. He placed his hand back over yours, stilling you.
He took your other thigh and hoisted you up. You clung to him, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hard cock rubbed against the soft flesh of your cunt, and you moaned softly, the ache inside you growing.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and he thrust against you. You gasped at the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your clit, the head bumping against your entrance.
You looked up at him, pleading. He was looking down at you, his eyes dark, his hair falling across his forehead. He was so handsome, so strong.
"Please, my prince," you breathed, desperate.
He smirked, his eyes flashing, and then he was guiding himself inside you, the tip of his cock parting the soft, wet flesh.
He pushed slowly into you, and you felt a sharp pain as his cock tore through your maidenhead. You cried out, and he kissed you, swallowing your gasp.
He hummed against your lips, a soothing, comforting sound. His hands squeezed your bottom, holding you steady. He moved slowly, rocking his hips, pulling you into him with each thrust.
"I've got you," he said, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin.
The pain slowly subsided, replaced by a delicious, aching pleasure. You clung to him, your eyes closing, lost in the sensation of him filling you.
You could hear the sound of the wind, and the rustle of the trees. The deep gentle sounds of Caraxes' breathing. And the sound of your heart pounding, and Daemon's labored breaths.
He slowed his thrusts, drawing it out, pushing hard and deep, slamming your body back against the beast with each motion. You clutched at his shirt, nails digging into the soft material, gasps and sighs and half-formed moans fell from your lips. He picked up the pace, faster now, and you both lost yourselves in it, your pleasure was all that mattered.
His face was a picture, pleasure and devotion and tension and complete and total ecstasy. Your name was on his lips, a litany of beautiful profanities fell from them, a mix of Valerian and common that made the redness in your face grow deeper. You began to grind your hips against him, rolling them as he moved with you, his movements becoming erratic. His hand came down to cup the back of your neck, holding you steady as he leaned in and captured your lips in a messy kiss.
He stilled, letting out a low groan as he pressed himself deep, holding your hips in place as he filled you with his seed. Your body shuddered and twitched and you whimpered against his mouth, clenching down on him. It was too much, and you followed him over the edge, a bright burst of light going off behind your eyes as you succumbed to the feeling.
He rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, his eyes closed and a look of pure bliss on his face. You giggled, running your hands through his hair, and he managed a lazy smile.
"Think of me when Tyland is trying to stick his cock in you on your wedding night," he said, his words warm and breathy against your lips.
You chuckled, then turned sad, remembering that your wedding would take place soon, and you would never see Daemon again.
He seemed to sense your sadness, his hands cupping your face, his eyes full of promises he could not keep. He said nothing, just kissed you again and held you, pressing you back against the dragon.
Caraxes purred, you could hear a faint rattling, like old armor, and the dragon's chest expanded and deflated slowly, the rhythm soothing.
You stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, Daemon wrapped around you, his hand tracing gentle circles on the exposed skin of your thigh.
You sighed, content and warm and happy, but knowing that the spell was soon to be broken, and you would have to return to the reality of the life that had been laid out before you.
"We should be getting back," you said, frowning. You didn't want the moment to end, but you had been gone for far too long, and your maids would be wondering where you were.
Daemon nodded, reluctantly pulling away. He laced up his pants and then helped you straighten your dress. You tried to flatten the wrinkles with your hands, but there was no helping it. You had been flying, and then you had been fucked, thoroughly, by the heir to the throne, and there was no hiding that.
He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes full of promise and heat. You blushed, and he grinned, pulling you back to the dragon.
The ride back was slower, the dragon gliding gently through the sky, and you had the urge to cry. You wanted this feeling, of freedom and warmth and safety, to last forever.
You sat back against Daemon's chest, his arms tight around you, the wind whipping through your hair.
Caraxes flew lazily through the sky, and you could see the Red Keep getting closer, the massive walls looming large. The dragon descended, the air rushing around you, and then the beast landed in the center of the courtyard near the dragon pit, his wings beating wildly, sending clouds of dust and dirt swirling around him.
He roared, a great and terrible sound, his long neck twisting and his wings stretching. The beast was restless, and he seemed unhappy to be back in the confines of the castle.
Daemon leapt off the dragon, landing gracefully, and then turned and helped you down, his hands lingering on your waist. He gave you a wicked smile, and you blushed, unable to meet his eyes.
"I swear," he said, lifting your hand and pressing another kiss to your knuckles, "I'll burn down Casterly Rock just to get a taste of you again."
You chuckled, a blush coloring your cheeks, then you looked him in the eyes.
"And I will gladly watch it burn," you said, grinning.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, and then he was gone, climbing back onto Caraxes and taking to the sky. You watched them disappear, the great, crimson beast disappearing into the clouds.
You stood there, alone in the courtyard, watching the sky long after he had disappeared. Your heart was heavy, despite his promises, you knew that you would never see him again.
You turned and walked back to the keep, your mind filled with memories of your time together. It was a small moment, a stolen moment, but you knew you would hold on to it…
And be reminded of it every time you looked to the sky.
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arminsumi · 1 year ago
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DO IT RIGHT — 五夏
SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader
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🔞 suggestive / partly n.sfw
SUMMARY — Suguru and Satoru each have their own differing ideas of what makes a good make out session.
WARNINGS — make outs n kissing, SatoSugu, jealousy, light angst, they fight over u, lovably annoying gojo, calling you sl*t playfully, "dirty girl" n maybe other nicknames, smidge of sexual tension/undertones ig
WORDCOUNT — 2.4k
TAGS for the lovelies !! 💗
@buttercupmuffins
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" Slow and sensual; that's how it's supposed to be done, Satoru. You rush your kisses. You're too chaotic. "
" Yuh but I get more bitches than y — "
" — when was the last time you kissed a woman ? "
" Junior high. "
Suguru started cackling. The two of them were sat in your living room apartment. You peered at them from over your computer, the blue light glaring in your eyes.
" What the fuck are you two on about ? " you asked, taking your earphones out completely and halting the progress of your essay.
" None of your business. "
You sighed in response. That was such an expected response from Satoru.
" We were debating what makes a good make out session. You know, like ' fast or slow ' ? ' Chaotic or sensual ' ? Mister six eyes over here has opposition to my beliefs as usual — don't fuckin' wink at me, you freak. "
Satoru giggled. " Of course, 'cause your beliefs are flawed and quite frankly you're full of shit. Blech. Hey, you agree, don't you ? "
You looked up in thought for yourself.
" I don't know. See, chaotic movie-like kisses are something lots of people want. But then again, lots of people prefer slow and romantic kisses. They really want to intertwine bodies with their lover and — "
Suguru completed your thought.
" — and become one with each other. Yeah, you get me. "
" Hey now, I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I haven't even kissed one of you. Maybe you're both shit at kissing, now that I think 'bout it. Haha. " you chuckled to yourself.
The boys raised their brows at you. Ah, a common ground; both taking offense from you.
" Why don't you come over here 'n experiment with us, princess ? " Suguru murmured condescendingly. His earrings caught your eye.
Your stomach dropped. " Huh ? " you blinked dumbly.
" Don't get all coy with us now. Come over here. " Suguru teased.
Satoru arched a brow at you and smirked. " Yeah, come. You can help us settle this debate. "
" Mhm. " Suguru nodded.
You were reluctant, because... well, this could fuck up the friendship, right? They didn't seem to mind that, as they entrapped you between their bodies and kept you there. Imprisoned between their competing passion.
" Me first ? "
" Uh, no way, asshole. Me first. "
" I'll choose. "
" Nah, let's flip a coin. "
So they flipped a coin at Satoru's insistence.
" Call it. " Suguru said.
" Heads. " Satoru called.
You observed Suguru's attractive, veiny hands as he tossed the coin and caught it, smacking it onto the back of his hand.
" . . . heads. " Suguru groaned.
" Yay . . . smooches for Satoru. " Satoru cheered.
" You're so cringe. " you said, crinkling your nose.
" Shut up or I'll stick my tongue down your throat — "
" — you mean you weren't planning to do that ? What a pity. I like French kissing. " you teased.
That caught the boys attention. They exchanged a look, and now a tension built up between you three.
" Okay, if you want me to, then I will. " Satoru tried to remain confident, but the idea of French kissing you was destroying his cool composure.
" I want you to. So get to it, boy. " you said.
Suguru raised his brows at Satoru and smirked. He sat to your left, long leg propped along the edge of the couch, encasing you there.
Just before Satoru leaned in to kiss you, swift and cheeky as he was, Suguru interrupted with a quick, teacher-like stutter.
" Hey, nonono. We're setting a timer. Five minutes each, precisely. "
" Of course. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " Well hurry up then. "
" Impatient much ? " you chuckled under your breath. Satoru went a bit red.
The split second Suguru started the timer on his phone, Satoru engulfed you in a kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of you. He was chaotic. Feverish. Gliding those candied lips across yours was up there with the best decisions he's ever made.
He tilted his head into the kiss, tongue swiping and slipping in eagerly to play with yours. And with how he French kissed, you almost wanted to giggle; he was so playful.
Suguru watched. And observed. And thought about how he's going to win you over with his approach to kissing. What you needed, he thought while seeing how Satoru whimpered into your mouth, was a sensual man who takes his time.
" Time's up. "
" What the fu- "
A string of saliva connected you and Satoru, his lips felt tingly and he still wanted more even after devouring you.
" Five minutes go by so quick . . . "
" Uh-huh. When you're having fun. Sooo ? " Satoru looked at you expectantly.
" Rather hold back your judgment until you've tasted me, hm ? " Suguru stopped you before you made any comment on his best friend's kissing style. " Come on. Come closer. I don't bite. " he said, making the last part sound so sultry that a shiver ran down your spin.
Now Suguru . . . oh boy, Suguru. How he kissed. You were already dizzy from Satoru's fervor. But Suguru ? One little peck at your chin to test. Then he pressed teasing, leadup kisses to the corner of your lips.
" Su — " he muffled your call of his name with his lips, drinking up the rest of the syllables like a thirsty wolf.
His big hands molded to the back of your head, tangling up into your hair. Tilt tilt tilt. Press. Such a deep and hard kiss. You felt like your perception of reality got fucked up a little for a moment there.
He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it, and once you opened your mouth for him he just smirked at your acceptance. In his mind, he was aiming to kiss you like he was converting you. Damn near kissed like a cult leader, you don't know why but you thought of that description right then.
That buttery soft tongue made you moan. The sound caught both the boy's off-guard.
And then the poor white-haired boy started glaring.
" Okay, okay, time's basically up. "
" Hmmmf ? " you looked dazed.
" How much time was left before you just cancelled that ? " Suguru squinted annoyedly at his best friend, hands still keeping you in place. His lips were barely parted from yours, so every shake of subtle anger in his vocals vibrated subtly across your lips.
" I dunno, fifty-two seconds ? "
" That's almost a whole minute left you asshole ! "
" Yeah so ?! You gonna fight me over it, big boy ? " Satoru challenged.
" What are you getting so jealous for ? "
You widened your eyes at the argument springing to life. The air felt so tense and hot. You could feel their heats radiating from their faces as they flushed from anger.
" What are you kissing her so deeply for ? Are you trying to fucking prove something ? "
" Oooooooh, pretty boy is jealous jealous. " Suguru said venomously.
" Boys, please don't fight. This is not such a big deal. " your voice came in between them.
They looked at you bitterly.
" Whose kiss did you like better ? " Satoru asked.
" Mine. No offence, but Satoru you kiss like a fucking high schooler. "
Satoru clenched his jaw. " I was asking her — not you, Suguru, baby. "
Oh he's angry angry you thought. Satoru always used nicknames with people he liked, but when the word baby came out of his mouth in that tone? God have mercy on whoever's on the receiving end. Unless it was someone who could match that intensity...
" I'll tell you what I liked and disliked about both of you . . . to be fair. Okay ? How's that sound, boys ? "
God they loved it when you called them like that. Yeah, they're your boys alright. They loved being your boys.
" Okay . . . sure. That's fair. Go ahead. " Suguru said. A small nervousness crept across his chest, but he hid it well.
You paused for just a moment to collect your thoughts.
" Damn just spill already ! "
" Let her think, Satoru. Impatient bitch. "
" I will fucking bite you. "
" Then bite me. "
" Boys. Calm down. "
So they listened. Your word was supreme, after all. If you told them to stop, they stopped.
You tilted your head and slowly began laying the truth on them. " I liked the way you held the back of my head so possessively, it was really hot . . . " you told, directing at Suguru.
Satoru grimaced. Why didn't he do that? He was mentally kicking himself.
" . . . but I preferred how dramatically you kissed me. " you directed to the sulking white-haired boy. Then his features lightened a bit.
" And ? " Suguru encouraged, eager to hear more praises.
They leaned in very close for the fact they were just listening to you speak.
" I didn't like how sloppy and wet Satoru was. "
Satoru cringed at himself. He was very self-conscious about being a sloppy kisser.
" Haha, sloppy kisser. "
" Suguru shut the fuck up. "
You quickly turned down the heat between them and knocked Suguru off his high horse.
" You're a bit of a show-off kisser, not as romantic as I imagined you to be. It feels like you were trying too hard to win me over, or something. "
Oh, he hated that you could deduce that. He really thought he had you.
" Fair enough . . . " it was his turn to sulk.
Satoru smirked. " So you prefer me ? " he winked, " I mean, of course you do. "
" No. I like both of you. "
" Okay, slut. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " If you had to choose — "
" Don't worry about offending us, we can take it. "
" Yeah right, you're gonna fucking cry if she chooses me. " Satoru cheeked.
The tension rose between them again. But this time, there was this... oddly violent passion. Some sort of suppressed, stifled romanticness brewed between them. It's always underlined their conversations before, even their arguments. This indescribable, undeniable tension — not the jokingly " I'm so gay for my best friend " stuff. No, something genuine. Something that was not a joke.
" Why don't you kiss each other ? " you blurted out.
Satoru looked at you like you were crazy. " What the fuck ? "
" I mean, to make it fair . . . and get better insight into how the both of you kiss ? I-I don't know, just a thought. "
" Just a thought ? A horny thought I bet. " Satoru chuckled. He was going red in the face. And so was Suguru.
" What the hell. I'm innocent. " you defended.
" Riiight. "
Suguru had been thoughtfully quiet. Then he finally spoke.
" . . . I'm down. "
" WHAT. " Satoru freaked out. His face went completely red now. You could feel how hot he was.
" Yeah let's go for it. " Suguru shrugged.
He froze up. His heart palpitated. Stomach dropped. Eyes went blown wide open.
" I-I-I yeah ? Okay ? Sure. Yeah. Alright. Then. Let's. Do — it. "
" Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you stutter like this, Satoru. " you teased.
" Shut up ?! Shut up. Let's just do it and get it over with. "
" Yeah. Okay. Come here. "
" What the fu- you come here. "
Suguru raised his brows at him. " Seriously ? "
" I'm more dom than you. " Satoru said proudly. " Come here. "
" Nah, you come here. "
" No way ! "
You sighed. " Wow, this is going to take a while. "
" Nonono, we're doing it — " he kissed him, " — see ? "
" Satoru, such a cute peck. We're supposed to make out. That's what you want, right Y/n ? "
You stomach flipped. His tone. His damn tone. That cocky glint in his eyes. Suguru was so teasingly seductive right then.
" Y-yeah. For five minutes. Just like we did. "
" Okay. Set a timer. "
Satoru looked like he was shocked from how fast he just kissed his best friend. Such a short peck had his stomach doing loopies. You could tell he was going through a crisis.
" 'kay, timer's on. "
So they melted their lips against each other right in front of you. Satoru was stiff at first, but loosened up the deeper he fell into his best friend's kiss. More than that, he succumbed to the sultry feelings that Suguru radiated. You know, he just had that thing about him. That air. He was alluring and enticing, almost dangerously so at times.
You listened. Watched. Glanced down at the timer. Really, you set a stopwatch, not a timer. A little experiment. You wanted to see how long they'd take to realize how long they've been kissing for.
And it's well over five minutes. Lips smacking, heads tilting, bodies coming closer. Suguru's bangs brushing over Satoru's cheeks, hands cupping his flushed cheeks. What a sight. Two pretty best friends going breathless over each other.
" 'how long's it been ? " Satoru mumbles in between kisses, totally in a dazed state.
You hide your smirk. " Just a bit left. "
Suguru gave you a suspicious side eye. Oh, butterflies. He caught onto you right then.
He thought;
Well if you want us to put on a show, we'll put on a show. Just for you.
And dipped his tongue between Satoru's parted lips, erotically swirling around — slow, sensual, languid.
" ahmmm ~ " Satoru almost made a noise close to a moan, and then got embarrassed.
You gulped and watched. Did they forget they were doing this in front of you? Your face was right there.
You stared hard.
Suguru smirked and parted from the kiss, holding the face of a dazed-looking Satoru in the palms of his hands as he spoke to you.
" Did you even set a timer ? Ah, whatever. Stop staring, dirty girl. Come join the fun. Three's company, you know ? "
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lazycats-stuff · 2 months ago
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Hello can you please do more baby or toddler reader x batfamily if you can😭i just love them
Oh sure can. I kind of love them too. I'll do baby reader, since we didn't have those in a while. Also, look at this adorable little penguin. Baby animals are cute.
Summary: First time that (Y/N) came to the manor.
Warnings: mentions of death during birth, but it's not (Y/N), a lot of fluff, angst(?), I don't know at this point.
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Bruce was silently sitting at the dining table, looking at the phone, not sure how to feel at this moment. He had a one night stand 9 months ago and the woman he was with was carrying his child. Bruce asked her what she wanted to do, did she want to get rid of the baby or keep it?
Bruce was secretly hoping she would keep the baby, but he couldn't tell her what to do with her body. That would be wrong in his opinion. Thankfully, she choose to keep the baby. Thank God. Bruce was happy and he told his other sons about the incoming baby. None of them were surprised, but worried. A baby in their lifestyle?
They were all worried to say the least. Even Damian. Not about the fact that a biological child of Bruce was coming into the family, but worried about the fact that it's a baby. All of them were hoping for a girl, because who wouldn't want a little sister at their hands? Once they found out it was a boy, they were a tad disappointed, but didn't mind another boy.
The more the merrier was the joke.
The pregnancy was going smoothly... Until the time of labor came. He thought that it would go smoothly. He really did. However, it didn't. (Y/N)'s mom didn't make it, but (Y/N) did. That was the call he just got.
She passed away during birth. The nurse who called assured Bruce that the baby was okay. At the moment, Bruce was trying to collect himself before he broke the news to everyone. He looked up from the phone as his sons came in, all confused as to what has happened.
" What happened Bruce? " Dick asked as he sat down and Bruce rubbed his eyes.
" Anna, the one night stand gave birth today. She didn't make it, " Bruce announced and everyone froze.
Damian was left worried for the baby, Tim's mouth dropped and Jason was left speechless. Dick had to sit down.
" Are you serious? " Tim asked, eyes widening at the news. This was huge.
" Just got the call Tim. She passed away. Right now, I need to get some baby stuff. And that means furniture, clothes, diapers, damn formula too... " Bruce rubbed his eyes again, feeling overwhelmed by everything.
" We'll deal with that, " Damian declared and the other 3 nodded in agreement. " We'll just need your credit card. You need to make sure that the baby is taken care of. And we do need to think of a name. "
" I thought we agreed on (Y/N). And so did Anna, no? " Dick asked, rubbing his chin.
" Yes, we'll name the boy (Y/N). Also, don't go overboard. " Bruce warned and Dick chuckled.
" You shouldn't worry about money, since you are rich, " Dick mumbled as his face turned solemn.
" I know Dick. I trust you all. First and foremost, we need a list of what we need for the room. Create a list of furniture and then just make sure to get enough clothes for now. We'll think about that later. But formula is something that he needs, so make sure to get about a week's worth... Is that too much? " Bruce wondered out loud, sighing quietly.
" We'll get a week's worth, don't worry father. We'll go furniture shopping today, so that it'll be ready when (Y/N) is discharged from the hospital, " Damian said, looking Bruce in the eyes.
" (Y/N) will be okay here. " Tim put his right elbow on the table, then rested his chin in his hand. " We may be chaotic, but we'll take good care of him. He won't lack anything, " Tim said with a firm voice and everyone nodded.
" Oh hell yeah. We'll all step up for this baby. And we'll take care of him. We'll make a list of duties and try to do our best. " Jason crossed his arms as he leaned back into his chair.
" I agree Jason. "
They all looked at each other, clearly determined to make sure that (Y/N) is taken care of.
Bruce went to the hospital right after the conversation, nervous beyond belief to meet his son. He entered the hospital, where he asked the nurse for directions. The nurse gently led him where (Y/N) was and Bruce saw him through the glass, with other newborns. Bruce tried to not cry, tried to not tear up.
But he couldn't stop the tears that came up. He wiped them quickly and the nurse gently patted his shoulder.
" (Y/N) is healthy, mister Wayne. A good weight too. But sleeps most of the time, which is normal. The only thing you need to do right now is sign the paperwork for that adorable baby, " She said, gently smiling at (Y/N), then turned to Bruce.
" And I know that you are a single father and that a baby is different than teens, but you'll get the hang of it. And I know you must feel overwhelmed and not prepared, but no one is prepared for a baby. There's no manual to get ready, " She told him and Bruce chuckled.
" I know. But I've been reading books on how to take care of newborns. What to do and what not to do. But I feel like it's not enough, " Bruce explained and she nodded.
" Do not sell yourself short. You got this. And I think the little guy would love to live with you. Do you want to hold him? "
Bruce nodded. " But I need to sit down first. "
" Of course. " She gently led him to a room where he could sit down and then she left to go get (Y/N). Bruce has never felt so nervous and anxious in his life. He tried to calm down, but his nerves got the better of him. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves down.
He got ready as the nurse entered with (Y/N), who was swaddled and sleeping.
" Alright, are we ready dad? " The nurse asked and Bruce nodded. He knew he was ready.
The nurse gently put (Y/N) into Bruce's arms and Bruce smiled at his baby boy. (Y/N) opened his eyes and Bruce smiled even more.
" Hello (Y/N). It's dad, " Bruce said and (Y/N) seemed to scan him before letting out soft sounds.
The nurse adjusted his hold, warning him about the neck and head. Bruce listened intently, adjusting his hold accordingly.
" You have 4 brothers and you wrapped them around your little finger. They'll do anything for you, " Bruce said gently to his son, who seemingly smacked his little lips together. Bruce chuckled at that.
" I'll make sure you are never lack love. Never, " Bruce muttered, smiling at his baby boy. " Oh they'll love you. "
Bruce turned his head towards the nurse. " When can I take him home? "
The nurse thought for a moment. " Normally, we would discharge him with the mother, but since she passed and he's fine, you could take him today. "
So Bruce did just that. After he talked to all the appropriate people, signed a shit ton of documents in Bruce's words. Afterwards, he made his way to find a baby car seat. He quickly put it together in the parking lot. Being Batman is a perk of it's own. He put it together and went to the hospital to pick his son up and go home with him.
He could only hope that the boys have put together a crib. However, he didn't doubt that they bought it, they are all quick and efficient, but... He's worried. He can only hope that they didn't kill one another while putting together the cribs. He'll be happy if he he finds two of his sons unconscious. And without any broken bones.
Which Bruce knew was unlikely, but one can hope. He gently strapped (Y/N) in and drove home, making sure to be vigilant on the road and to make sure that both him and (Y/N) made it home safely. After a while, he parked the car in the yard and got out, taking (Y/N) with him, making sure he is swaddled and calm.
He opened the door quietly and he could hear voices upstairs, probably where they were putting together the furniture. He slowly walked upstairs, being quiet on purpose to see what was going on.
And was that a sight to see.
Damian and Tim were putting together a changing table and Dick and Jason have put some toys into the crib, making it comfortable for their brother.
Bruce cleared his throat and everyone turned their heads to look at him, before their eyes fell down on a little bundle of joy in (Y/N)'s arms. They all froze and melted a tiny bit.
" Aw, he's so cute, " Dick came closer, watching (Y/N) who was awake at the moment, looking around at the new faces and voices.
Jason peaked over Tim's shoulder. " My, my. He is cute. " Jason said quietly as he gently reached out to touch (Y/N)'s cheek.
" Before any of you touch him, " Bruce said, making Jason pause mid air, " I want you all to wash your hands. So go to the bathroom and wash your hands.
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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago
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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
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True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
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I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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Yay request open oh oh if youre in Gumi era just having idea can I have more of his domestic fluff like planning on their future life any kind of domestic will do (๑•́ω•̀) 💗💗
title: my heart is yours eternally
pairing: boyfriend-> husband!megumi x girlfriend->wife!reader
summary: megumi thought this life he planned was only one in fairytales, but as he looked at the life he built with you, he knew it was real.
note: i love megumi pls pls pls request him more ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
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"i want a small wedding." he said out of the blue as you two laid in his bed, holding your hand in his and he looked over you. "one that's intimate, i don't mind you choosing the theme or anything."
as you nodded thoughtfully, you entangled your fingers together. "mhm. just for us. and i want you to have a pretty ring too, i think you'd look nice with one in silver."
"you think?" he replied, eyebrow raised.
"i know so. and we can have a huge wedding cake-"
"vanilla."
"yes vanilla, with ice cream too. just for us."
he seemed content with that, smiling softly. until a thought crossed over his mind and he looked down at you with a look in his eye.
"i'll get you a nice ring, i promise. you just need to wait." he said, determined.
"i'll wait for you 'til the end of time, 'gumi."
he flushed and squeezed your hand tighter, he had to get the best for you. he couldn't sleep right if he didn't.
"you want any kids 'gumi?" you asked absentmindedly, not noticing the way he choked on air at the thought. images of you pregnant ran through his mind, his mind spiraling as he failed to find the words.
"megumi?"
"oh, uh.. a brother and a sister. that's all we need."
"sounds good, i wouldn't want our baby to get lonely when we're gone after all."
he felt his mind sputter at the thought of your baby, with features from you and him.
the topic of conversation eventually changed to something different, a show you were watching. as he listened to you recount how happy you were that the characters you hated died, his mind still kept going back to the conversation you had earlier.
he fell asleep holding your hand, images of the life you'd have together running through vividly, like he could almost touch it.
since then, he was determined to make that a reality for the two of you.
he proposed to you on your anniversary, taking every possible note he could about the types of rings you liked before choosing one. as he held you hand in his and slid on the ring, kissing you with only the sunset behind you as witness, he felt truly loved.
the months spent planning your wedding weren't as stressful as you handled it together. finding the perfect venue, small like you both wanted.
going on dates to sample cakes, laughing at megumi's face of disgust. choosing the topper for the cake, opting for two loving bunnies at the top since none of them could get megumi's hair right.
choosing who to invite, megumi 'begrudgingly' inviting his old friends from jujutsu high, and you yours.
him going out with gojo and yuuji to pick the perfect suit, you choosing your dress with your most trusted friends.
walking down the aisle, megumi felt emotional since you were just so gorgeous, he never felt as luck as he did when you were announced husband and wife.
well actually, that's a lie.
when you gifted him a box, full of baby clothes and a stick with two life changing lines on it, he knew you were his good luck charm.
as he promised, he loved you through even your sickness. a lot of foods made you nauseous, so he'd started to learn how to cook because it was exhausting for you.
your bump was bigger than average, not like he'd say it to your face, but it was confirmed when you went to get your ultrasound. twins.
you squinted your eyes at him and jokingly hit him on his shoulder lightly, saying, "this is your fault!"
he only laughed. at your gender reveal, just a small thing between you two, you held hands and cut a cake slice out of the cake. to your surprise, it was blue and pink.
your stomach got huge, at 9 months you just wanted your kids out. megumi would take you out on walks everyday, well just strolls around your house technically, but it was a lot for you.
on day number 3, your water broke. you thought you'd finally feel relieved, but good thing megumi was there because you panicked. he was too but mentally.
as you delivered your babies, the son first, you squeezed his hand for dear life.
when you went home with 2 kids a couple days later, you sleeping as megumi held the two in the rocking chair he'd picked out, he felt like it was a dream.
when you awoke, and he'd matched the features of your son who took after you and your daughter after him, his heart fluttered as he felt his body soar.
this is what love is, and this is what he dreamt of.
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sturniqlo · 5 months ago
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Weird Cravings- C.S
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summary: in result of pregnancy, y/n is having weird cravings and chris tries them with her.
cw: none?
masterlist | positive masterlist
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ten weeks pregnant
Y/n's morning sickness has definitely gotten better. She doesn't wake up every morning and run to the bathroom like she used too, just here and there she will. Chris has been there every step of the way. Some like to say, his brothers really, that's he's officially moved into Y/n apartment. He's rarely slept at his shared home with his brothers ever since Matt and Nick had found out about the news. "Have you moved in Y/n's place or what?" Nick asks as he sips on his water. Chris had came back from Y/n's place to get more clothes and to film a weekly video with his brothers. He also gave Y/n some time to film for a couple of brand deals and a video for her channel.
"No, just staying over more." Chris shrugs, drinking from his pepsi. "Question, when the baby comes are you moving in with her? Getting your own place with her? Or are they going to move here?" Chris and Y/n hadn't actually thought about that, Chris thinks. It's something that he'll definitely have to bring up. "I actually don't know. Maybe I'll move in with her? If she wants me to, that is."
Chris would love to move in with her. Even before Y/n got pregnant, he would fantasize about living with her whenever they would be alone in her apartment doing simple tasks together like cooking, cleaning, and lounging around. But, he's never brought it up to her. "Ready to film?" Matt suddenly enters the room with damp hair after his shower. "Yep." Nick says and Chris downs his pepsi.
Today, they were going to film a regular car video in Matt's car. After they finished filming, they went out for lunch. "How's Y/n and the baby doing? Haven't had the chance to check in on her." Matt asks as he takes a bite of his pizza. "She's way better now than last time. Her morning sickness has definitely went down. Not completely away but here and there she'll get sick." He wipes his mouth with his napkin, smiling at the thought of his girlfriend. "I still can't believe you guys are going to be parents." Nick says. They all laugh.
After lunch, they go shopping around LA. Chris really enjoyed alone time with his triplet brothers. Usually he would just go film and grab more clothes and go back to Y/n. She would try and tell him that she feels bad for taking him away from his brothers and convinced him to spend more time with them. As Chris looks through a rack of clothing, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Grabbing his phone, he sees that there's two messages from Y/n.
y/n
hi baby! hope ur having fun with nick and matt (tell them i say hi)
can you pls pass to the store on your way here and buy popcorn, pickles, ice cream, and bacon?
chris
anything for you and baby strawberry
can't wait to see u, love you so much
y/n
love you more
Back at home, Y/n had finished up her brand deal videos and her new upcoming video that she was now editing. However, mid-editing a wave of random cravings hit Y/n. She's craved things before, but never this weird. She found herself getting up off of her spot on the couch and going into her bathroom and opening up a new bar of soap. The soft scent hit her nostrils and she caught herself bringing it to her mouth. "What the hell, stop it." She sets the soap back in its box. That's when she decided to text Chris anything she was craving.
As Chris said goodbye to his brothers he hops in his car and drives to the nearest Target. Chris picks up a basket and start heading to the food section. He heads to where the chips are, likely that the popcorn is there. Y/n wasn't one to choose popcorn so he knew it was one of her cravings. He quickly goes to the candy aisle knowing that she was running low on her sour gummy worms and her zero sugar reese's. Specifically the zero sugar ones, for some reason the regular ones didn't sit well in her tummy.
After he gets everything else she asked for, he sends her a quick text asking if she needs anything else in which she replies no. He scans the items quickly, itching to get home to cuddle his girl.
"Honey, I'm home!" Chris giggles as he closes the door with his foot, tossing his keys in a bowl near the door. "In the kitchen!" He hears her. He places the bags on the floor and kicks his shoes off. Getting the bags again, he rushes to the kitchen placing them down on the island. Chris sees Y/n drinking water from her cup and a random bar of soap on the island where he placed the bags and a bowl of nugget ice in a bowl. "Hi, baby. Missed you so so so much." He comes up behind her to wrap his arms under her small bump that's barely there. Kissing her neck, she leans into his touch. "Mm, missed you more." She turns her head to capture his lips with hers.
After a short and sweet kiss, he kisses her cheek and unwraps his arms that were around her frame. Moving around her, he starts to take everything out from the bags. "Whys there a bar soap right there?" He asks, looking at her while crumbling up a bag "You won't believe me. I tried to eat soap, but stopped myself before I did. So I replaced it with ice while smelling the soap." Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she confesses. "Oh my god," He laughs. "Well, I brought the stuff you asked for, you can get rid of the soap." She grabs the jar of pickles and hands it to Chris so he can open it. While he opens it, she grabs a spoon and bowl to serve herself the vanilla ice cream.
"Did you want some?" She asks Chris as he places the open jar down. "Mm, I'll just steal some from you." He says and she starts scooping the cold treat into the bowl. "So how was your day with Matt and Nick?" Chris opens the fridge to grab a cold water bottle. "I enjoyed it, we went for lunch and then went shop-" He stops talking as he sees what Y/n is doing. She has the pickle in her hand and dips it into the bowl of ice cream. Although Chris isn't the biggest fan of pickles, he never judged Y/n for her likings. But this? It caught him off guard. "What?" Y/n says, mid chewing. "You- the pick- is that good?" He stutters. "Oh, yeah, it's pretty good?" She is also confused herself. She's never craved something like this.
"Want to try? I know you don't really like pickles but it's pretty good." She takes another bite of the unusual craving. "I- sure, why not." He laugh. "Here." Y/n places a glob of ice cream on the half eaten pickle and brings it up to Chris' mouth with her other hand hovering under the pickles so the ice cream won't make a mess on his clothes or the floor. "That's definitely something." Chris tries to chew as fast as he can so he can get the takes out of his mouth. "You don't like it, do you?" Y/n says sadly. "I'm sorry, baby. Not the biggest fan of it. Hey, hey, don't cry it's okay." Y/n's tears spill from her eyes.
"I don't know why I'm crying! I knew you didn't like pickles." She laughs through her tears. "It's okay, babe." He lightly laughs, bringing her head to his chest to hug her. "Here, keep on eating okay?" He takes her face into his hands and wipes her tears. "You want me to make a bag of popcorn? The bacon?" She nods. "Both, please. Two slices of bacon." She says softly, finishing the pickle and ice cream. "Look, I brought you more gummy worms and chocolate. Knew you were running low." He hands her the snacks. "Thank you, I ate the last chocolate earlier." She gasps.
"Did you finish the food I ordered for you earlier?" Chris asks as he gets started on the bacon, the popcorn already popping in the microwave above him. "Mhm, thank you again." She goes behind him and hugs his chest from behind. "Anytime, baby."
"Hey, so Nick brought something up earlier today. And it got me thinking." Chris say, placing four pieces of bacon on the hot pan. "Yeah? What was it?" She goes to lean on the counter next to him. Leaving the bacon the cook, he opens the microwave to get the popcorn out and letting it cool. "It was about our living situation. He was wondering if I moved in with you. And then brought up how and where we're going to live once the baby is here. And I wanted to know how you feel about moving in together?" He goes to stand in front of her.
"I know I've been spending more time here with you. And it kind of feels like I'm living here now. But, I don't want to push myself in here." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I was also thinking about that. And it does feel like you live here, and I don't mind making it official." Chris smiles. "Yeah, you want me to move in officially?" Y/n nods. "Okay, yeah, I'll officially move in." He leans in to kiss her. "And as for when the baby is here. We can stay here until we think it's time to move into something bigger. Like buying a house, maybe?" She smiles just thinking about it.
"I like the sound of that." Chris' smile only grows bigger. "Oh shit- the bacon." He quickly grabs the tongs and flips the bacon. Y/n rips open the bag of popcorn and eats a few pieces before heading into the pantry to grab the final ingredient to her second craving. Ketchup. "Here try this one." Although Chris also isn't the biggest fan of ketchup she offers it to him anyways. "What is it?" He asks, letting the bacon cook a bit more. "Popcorn and ketchup." His face drops a bit. "Ketchup?" He repeats. "Mhm, it's pretty good" She grabs a piece of popcorn with ketchup and hums while eating it.
"Matt would absolutely be freaking out right now." Chris and Y/n both laugh. "Just try it, babe." She grabs a piece bringing it up to him. He gently grabs her wrist and eats the piece. "Mm, it's way better than the pickles and ice cream, I'll tell you that." He grimaces slightly before returning to the bacon. "I also agree. I think you'll like the bacon and nutella one, though." She grabs the nutella from her pantry. "That sounds way better."
"Okay, just spread it on there." Y/n tells Chris. "Like this?" He asks. "Mhm, let me try it." She grabs a piece and takes a bite. "Mmm, this is the one." Chris picks up his own piece to try it himself. "Oh yeah, way better than the last two." He points at it and goes in for a second bite. "The popcorn was also really good." Y/n says, grabbing more popcorn.
It's now nearing eight and the sun is now setting. They both finished eating dinner. A quick meal Y/n cooked for them. Chris finishes drying the dishes placing them back into the cabinet. "All done?" Y/n asks, putting the leftovers in the fridge. "Yup, come here." He opens his arms up for her. "Hi." She says, looking up at him. "Hi, baby." He places a light kiss on the top of her nose. "How's our little strawberry?" He whispers. "Good, but I'm really craving the soap right now." She laughs. "I'll get the ice and soap." He says.
"Thank you."
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erwinsvow · 6 months ago
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can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share
he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two
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the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.
everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.
hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.
you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.
"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.
it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.
you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.
how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.
the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.
"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.
"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.
"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"
"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."
"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.
"oh."
"listen, kid, i'm so-"
"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."
"y'not walking. it's dark and-"
"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."
"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.
you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.
"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."
"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.
"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"
"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.
you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.
rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.
"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.
rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.
"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.
"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"
"i don't think that's a good idea."
"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."
"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."
he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.
"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."
without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.
surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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Dirty Cops
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.
Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).
A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~
You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.
Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 
You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.
As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 
"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."
"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 
"Sir, with all due respect -" 
"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 
"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.
"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 
"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 
"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 
A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 
"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 
"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 
"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 
"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 
–X– 
With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 
"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 
Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 
"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 
"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 
"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 
"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 
"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 
"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."
The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 
Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 
"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.
"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 
"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"
"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 
"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.
"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 
"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."
You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.
Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 
"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 
Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 
You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 
"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.
"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 
"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 
"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 
"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 
“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 
Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 
“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 
–X–
Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 
This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 
“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.
“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 
She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 
“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”
“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 
Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 
“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 
Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 
“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 
She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 
The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 
“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 
You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 
The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 
When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.
"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 
You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 
"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 
You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 
"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 
"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 
"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.
"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 
"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 
Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 
"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 
"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 
The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 
He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 
After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 
"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.
"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 
"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 
"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.
On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 
"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."
"How quaint and Christian of them."
"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 
Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 
"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 
"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 
You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 
"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 
"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 
"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 
"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 
He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 
Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.
"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 
"What?" 
"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."
"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"
"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 
"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 
You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 
"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 
"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"
"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.
"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 
"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 
"What are you insinuating, officer?"
"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.
"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 
You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 
"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 
"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 
"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."
"I'll notify, Hotch." 
"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 
"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."
He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.
–X– 
"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 
It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 
Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 
Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.
Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 
"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 
"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 
"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 
"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 
You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 
He hesitated a moment outside, though.
"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"
"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 
"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 
You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 
You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 
Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.
"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 
"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 
Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 
Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 
"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 
"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 
You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 
"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 
"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 
"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 
Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 
"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 
In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 
You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 
However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 
"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 
"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 
Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 
"What do you want us to do?" 
"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."
"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 
"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."
Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 
"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.
"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 
You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.
Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 
"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 
You pulled your own out to answer him.
"Let's give him a show then."
The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 
Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.
His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 
You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 
"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 
"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 
You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 
You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 
"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.
"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 
"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 
After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 
"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 
"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."
You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 
"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.
"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 
He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.
You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 
"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 
His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.
Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 
"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.
It was time to catch a killer.
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alphajocklover · 2 months ago
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AirBoyfriendNBoyfriend
**based off an ask I accidentally deleted, but had already written a story for. I don't remember the exact words, but I'll do my best to paraphrase. Was written with the help of my friend, editor and beta reader, @innermostthoughtsartappreciation **
'My 2 straight friends and I are going on vacation together. We went to our AirBnB but things have been weird since we got here. One of my friends seems more muscular than usual? He was already pretty tall but not he's really built. And last night I swear I heard my friends talking about sex in the other room or something? And this morning I woke up with a ring on my finger? Whats happening?'
You say this all started because you and your two friends went to an Airbnb? And you woke up with a ring on your finger?
In this case, what's happening isn’t some sort of elaborate conspiracy conducted by a shadowy cabal, nor is it some nefarious scheme by one of your friends/enemies to transform you to their liking, nor is it anything else of that sort. What happened here is very simple: you guys used the wrong AirBnB.
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No doubt you all know that I’ve talked about EB Jewelry before. You know the jewelry company that transforms people using their products. They’re one of, if not, the biggest name in the transformation business. Still, there are plenty of other companies out there that use transformation devices and items. Most are much smaller than EB Jewelry and try to fly under the radar when it comes to being able to transform people, but they are still out there. Including the very AirBnB that you and your friends signed up for. Air-Boyfriend-and-Boyfriend. Usually only referred to as simply AirBFnBF by those who use it, they’re often mistaken for AirBnB. You probably think they should be sued for copyright infringement, but you are entirely wrong. It is shockingly near impossible to sue a company that uses magic, and not as shockingly completely not worth the hassle and complications it would cause. For a $70 billion company like the real AirBnB to sue.
Despite their similar-sounding names and acronyms, the two companies do wildly different things and cater to a rather starkly different clientele. Airbnb lets you rent different houses for short periods and market themselves for all people to use, while AirBFnBF lets you rent out different relationships for however you wish to be in them, and usually exclusively caters their services to gay men.
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Here's how it works. Just like with Airbnb, you go into the app or on their website and you choose the place you want to stay at during the duration of your trip from the list of vacant places. Unlike AirBnB however, you also get to choose the people you want to become during your trip. You can customize whoever each party member becomes, and your relationship to and with each other. It’s a way for groups of people, though usually a couple, to try out different fantasies and sexual scenarios together.
What I believe must have happened was that one of your friends earnestly mistook the AirBFnBF app for the AirBnB app, and skipped the relationship settings page entirely because he didn’t understand what it was for what it was supposed to mean. Therefore, if he did do that, the app would have gone to a random fixed preset, which there aren’t a lot of for a group of three men.
I have a friend who works for AirBFnBF, and they told me you guys have probably been randomly assigned their most popular thresome preset: A Newlywed Throuple: consisting of a Hunk, a Muscle Daddy, and a Twunk. I know it sounds strangely specific, but you’d be surprised by just how many people love to use this one Throuple in particular.
You’re going to be in for a lot of surprises during these next two weeks. Including a new body, new memories, and a ludicrous amount of hot & steamy sex with your two new husbands. None of you will remember your true- selves until the two-week vacation rental is over. So until then, enjoy yourself!
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That's what you’re supposed to do on a honeymoon after all. Your friends will probably be very confused when these two weeks are over. However, on the off chance they or you all enjoy being big gay hunks and having tons of hot & steamy sex with you or together, there is a permanent settlement option you can invoke. It cost a small fortune, but with how happy, hot, and horny the three of you are all acting together now, I'd bet anything you guys will make your money back in no time
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moonydustx · 1 year ago
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The night cook.
masterlist | requests here
Summary: Insomnia has struck one of the crew and Sanji is willing to find out. Meanwhile, you try to deal with your fear as best you can.
Warnings: I don't know, mention of clowns maybe (yes, exactly what you're thinking).
Word count: 1.4k
Pairing: OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader.
A/N: I have a new obsession and I need to write more and more. I watched the series in one day and now I'm racing against time to catch up with the anime (and soon move on to the manga). It has not been proofread so I apologize for possible errors.
Part 2 here
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Sanji was starting to get stressed.
Despite the short time he had been part of the crew, he already knew where he belonged: the kitchen. He could spend hours there and felt comfortable. But something bothered him. Every morning, some fruit always appeared cut, food scraps in the trash, his knives disorganized. He wouldn't look for trouble right away, but he was aware of every move.
Your steps dragged to the kitchen, after another bad night's sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were visible from afar, as was his bad mood.
"Good morning madame! Glad you joined us today for coffee." Sanji caught your attention, placing your plate in front of you.
"Good morning sunshine, your mood seems to brighten the day." Zoro teased you, only earning an eye roll.
You stared at the food in front of you. They looked appetizing, but hunger seemed to be nowhere in your body. You rolled them from one side to the other, without removing any pieces, while heard the others talking in the distance.
"Everything is fine?" The cook's voice caught your attention, a quick glance was enough to realize that the others had already eaten their meals. "Sorry to say ma'am, but you look tired."
"It's okay Ji. I'm just discouraged." You stand up, handing the plate back to him. "They look delicious, but I'm out of food, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for, my sweet. I heard that if you eat with a full stomach, or in your case without hunger, you can't enjoy the food and the last thing I want is for you to not like one of my dishes ." He leaned on the table, watching you.
"That's impossible. I could eat anything you make, as long as it's you making it."
It had been a while since the two of you exchanged small gestures, small flirtations. Unlike most other women, you weren't bothered by what he said. You felt seen, admired like never before, even though you knew he would say that to a thousand others. Plus, it was fun to see him shy with your answers.
"So... What can I do special for you today. Choose and I'll do it."
"Surprise me!"
You left it in the kitchen and if you looked back, you could see it lost in your image. None of the other beauties would be like that beauty, her beauty. Even though he was still lost, Sanji tried to regain his thoughts, thinking about the perfect lunch.
You got caught up in the tasks on the boat, all to keep the tiredness out of your body. Despite having heard the call for lunch you decided to postpone it, as well as dinner.
When you returned to bathe, you could see that everyone had retired to their rooms. Even with the most comfortable clothes, the coziest sheet and the cool sea breeze coming through the window, it only took a few minutes of sleep for you to wake up sweating, scared.
You were tired of it would be another wasted night. You got up and went towards the kitchen, since sleep didn't decide to appear that night, hunger had already taken its place and a salad would go well at that moment.
You gathered some radishes to cut and a few slices later, you felt the knife against your skin and was scared.
"So you're the cook for the night!" Sanji spoke suddenly.
Before you could curse him for his fright you had to hold back a scream due to the inconvenience of the pain.
"Shit, let me see." in a matter of seconds, he was already in front of you , holding your injured hand.
"It was nothing, you can rest."
"That, young lady, I will decide later." he gently placed a cloth in your hand, pressing it. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep, I decided to prepare something."
"Honey, what's been going on?" He took your hand again, removing the cloth. "Okay, I have the solution to mine and your problem."
He took you by the hand to the bench, placing you in a sitting position, returned to the kitchen, placing a small container to heat and disappeared from sight for a few seconds, returning with a small box in his hands. It brought everything in front of you, allowing you to see what it was really about. A small box with bandage and a small plate with lasagna.
"I saved it from lunch for you, I think you'll like it."
"You know you're my favorite. Shit!" you immediately regretted trying to use your injured hand to eat.
"Now, we'll fix this." The cut was small but uncomfortable and felt a little deep.
You watched him bend down to your height and tend to the small wound like something precious while you ate. The silence between you didn't last long, against your will.
"When are you going to tell me what's been going on? You know, we're friends." Sanji charged, finishing applying the last strip. "Something is wrong with you and I can't figure it out. Besides, you've been destroying my onions in your nightly escapes."
"I'm having some trouble sleeping..." you tried to leave the explanation superficial, but the look in his eyes made it very clear that he wouldn't just buy that.
"You could have told me, you could have made me some tea or something that would help."
"It's not that." You pushed the plate away and straightened up, trying to look away from Sanji. Shame already dominated your body at that time. "It's a stupid thing."
"No mon amour, it's not. I'm here, talk to me."
"There's only one thing in the world that I'm afraid of: clowns. Be they the cute ones or the psychopaths alike..."
"Buggy. Has he been a problem?" Sanji tried to understand, although it didn't make sense since the crew hadn't seen him in days.
"First we were trapped in his circus and it was horrible. Then we had his head on board and I was sure that at any moment he was going to appear. Now, I can't stop having vivid nightmares about it." you confessed, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "I can't sleep, so I come here at night and I always cook something. I usually watch you cook and it seems like something so relaxing, so good. It hasn't helped me much with my sleep, but at least I've been eating some of the inedible things I make ."
"I bet they're as good as the ones I make and if you don't mind, I'd love to cook with you one of these nights." he winked, eliciting a smile from you. "But for tonight, we need to sleep, finish your plate and I'll be right back with something."
A few minutes and mouthfuls later, Sanji appeared with two mugs, with some hot liquid inside them.
"Herbal tea. It'll help you fall asleep."
"I have my doubts, but…" you took a sip of the sweet drink. "It doesn't hurt to try. Are you sleep deprived too?"
"Not really, I just couldn't leave a lady drinking alone."
"If this works, I promise to buy you the next drink at a bar."
"Wait. This a date?" he asked and if it were possible, you would see hearts instead of his eyes.
"We have the drink." you pointed to the two mugs. "We had dinner." You pointed to the lasagna. "Sounds like a date."
"That miserable clown at least did one good thing"
"Don't ruin the moment, Ji."
The two of you finished your drinks in silence, a few glances exchanged were enough to get comfortable together. Sanji picked up the dishes on the table and you followed him with slower steps.
"Thank you for helping me."
"Who said our date is over?" he turned around, grasping his arm for you to intertwine. "I would never let a lady go alone to her chambers."
"You are a gentleman."
"Only for you amour." He stopped in front of your door. "It's delivered and safe."
You stood on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, really." You opened the door and before you could enter, you turned around. "Can I ask you one more thing?"
"Whatever madam wants."
"You can stay here for a while, just until I sleep."
"Of course sweetheart" He walked you into the room.
You straightened the bed and lay down on one end, watching him just stare at you, waiting for some sign that he could sit down.
"Please be my guest."
He lay down and almost automatically gave way for you to snuggle against his chest. Your laughter was suppressed when you saw him smiling widely at the contact.
"A few drinks, a dinner..."
"And you ended up in my bed." your voice was already sleepy. Maybe because of the tea, but something said it was more because of the company.
"And I ended up in the perfect place." reciprocating your gesture just now, in the little conscience you had left, you felt his lips touch your forehead. "Sleep missus. I promise not to let any harm come."
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randomshyperson · 8 months ago
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I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 
Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k
A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”
To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.
Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.
“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”
You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.
"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."
It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.
Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"
“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.
"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 
You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.
"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"
The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.
"You don't want this." You say.
Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"
"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."
Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"
Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."
"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.
Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.
You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.
"Wanda, I-
"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 
"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."
"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"
She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.
She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.
"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."
Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 
You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.
But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.
"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."
Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.
Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.
She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 
You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.
"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.
The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."
She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.
You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 
She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.
She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.
Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.
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sword-bunny · 1 month ago
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Unpopular opinion: I don't think Luka is actually that bad
(Casual reminder first that all of the unwilling participants of this death match are slaves who were essentially raised from childhood to compete in Alien Stage. None of them are competing by choice, and this is Luka's second time being forced through this nightmare, and he will probably be made to do it a third time.)
"But he's enjoying this!"
Is he, though?
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I don't feel like this moment gets talked about enough. Obviously we don't get to see the actual match so we can't say anything about it, but Luka kissing the dead girl's hand afterwards was important enough that some of the very limited time this series has was used to show it.
Here, he's not smiling, he's not making a show out of it. The show is already over. His back is to the audience, and he isn't even on stage. He lived, she died, and to me this read as a gesture of respect.
"What about him purposefully invoking the images of Sua and Ivan to make Mizi and Till lose their shit?"
Yeah, he definitely did do that, and I'll get back to that. But take a look at his face during his duet with Mizi:
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It's shockingly different from the smug, smiling face he has for the rest of the song. From the background behind him, we can tell that Mizi is blocking the view of his face from the audience.
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In comparison, the bit where he rolls his eyes, he isn't even looking at her. He's looking at the audience, making a show of his lofty condescension.
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Look at the way he's portrayed in the "promotional footage" we see in Top 3. He's the "Ruler of the Stage", the elegant personification of victory. In other words, it's a stage persona.
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We got this new expression in Blink Gone, and I did think he was laughing at first! But why would he be hiding that? He certainly never has before. There would be no point, he'd be playing it up, even. But the more I look at it, the more I think he's covering up something else.
Luka has outlived a lot of his opponents, some of whom very likely were people he grew up with, and I think he's starting to crack.
This leads us back to the tactics he uses to win.
Luka is undeniably ruthless! You could definitely make an argument that he goes beyond what's necessary to win.
But remember, he's trying to survive. I don't think he can reasonably be called a sadist for trying his best not to die, even if his methods are underhanded. Is he a good person? I wouldn't even try to argue that. Is he a bad person? I genuinely don't think so.
The situation he's been forced into is unimaginably cruel, and I genuinely believe it doesn't make someone a bad person to try to survive, even if it means someone else doesn't.
Imagine a modified version of the trolley problem: you and a person you do not know are each tied to separate tracks. You get to choose whether the train kills you or the other person. In this situation where you are not there because you want to be or because you're experiencing any kind of consequences for your actions, is it morally acceptable to choose not to die?
Anyways, that's my rant about why it's been getting on my nerves to see Luka constantly getting called a sadistic psychopath. Feel free to make counterarguments, just please try to be chill about it if you do✌️
Edit: I totally forgot about the Alien Stage promo video, which pretty clearly shows that Luka is having a Less Than Stellar time (pun intended)
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This is the first shot we ever get to see of Luka, and I've left the lyrics on because I think they're pretty important since Luka is the contestant that's been in this situation the longest. He won and it's still not over. I'm not surprised he feels like it won't ever end!
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Then there's this shot. Hooooooo boy this shot makes me feel a lot of things. It's so clear that Luka is even less than a pet, barely more than a toy to his "fans".
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Finally, there's this bit where he hides his face behind his arms like he can't bear to be looked at any longer.
Your honor I'm so normal about him I swear
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luvfy0dor · 7 months ago
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Helloo! I love your blog smm! could I request fyodor with a child reader that’s very curious about things and often ask him about lots of things and do often run from his sight cause they saw something that peaks their interests? ^^ so sorry that this request was kinda long 😭
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“But Satisfaction Brought It Back ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child! Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
Warnings; none
Description; Fyodor brings curious child!reader to the park, but after being essentially exiled from the playground by some randos, reader sees something moving in the grass and chooses to investigate
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A/n: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FEEL AWFIL, I HIPW ITS ACCEPTABLE AT LEAST </3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS
Headcannons;
★ Fyodor loves that you're curious, but sometimes the amount of questions you ask makes him wonder if your jaw ever gets tired from moving so much. He knows you didn't get that trait from him.
★ If you run away from him, he's walking after you at the fastest speed possible for him. He warns you not to go far because his stamina doesn't allow him to chase after you, but you still do it and it gets on his nerves a little. He knows you don't mean to, but it stresses him out like no other.
★ He often lets Nikolai tag along when he brings you to do fun stuff just in case he ends up needing the extra hand, and Nikolais ability is always great to bring you back to them.
Scenario;
You had one hand in Nikolais and one in Fyodors, happily walking along with them through a park near your home on a beautiful spring afternoon. They decided to have tea together earlier and figured it was a nice day for an outing. They picked you up and brought you to the park and sat on a bench next to one another while you ran off to climb on the playground. It didn't take long for you to socialize, immediately interacting with a girl your age. "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the blue shirt. You're not allowed up here, you don't have the password." You looked at the girl with confusion, grimacing and crossing your arms. "Well it's not your playground, I'm allowed up here if I want to! My papa brought me to play and that's what I'm gonna do." You reply, your eyebrows furrowed and a visible pout on your face.
"That's too bad! Scurry along, you peasant!" She sneered. It made you want to cry a little, but you bit your lip and stormed off. A small group of kids who seemed to be apart of her posse watched. You huffed and went to sit with your papa and uncle, plopping down on the bench. Fyodor and Nikolai instantly picked up on your sad demeanor. "Aw, what's wrong, Malyshka? Are you alright?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back sweetly. You nodde d and leaned into him, making him frown. "C'mon, kiddo, I'll play with ya if you'd like! We're those other brats mean to you?" He asks, bending down to your level. You shook your head and rubbed the oncoming tears out of your eyes. "No, they weren't..I'll go play again in a second, I just fell." Nikolai stands back up and rubs your head. "Alright, if that's what you'd like." He returns to Fyodors side, resuming their conversation. Fyodors comforting hand remained on your shouder for awhile before you decided to get back up. "M'going to play again, papa." You declared, humbly walking back over to the playground and settling for the swings. You sat down and started swinging your legs back and forth, watching the nature around you. You weren't too high in the air before you saw a something moving through the grass across the park. You dragged your feet to come to a halt and walked away from the swing set.
The closer you got, you could tell that the moving thing was actually a large, brown rabbit. Your eyes widened with excitement and you approached it further, following it through a patch of brush. The rabbit noticed you and jumped further into the woods, over logs and rocks. You followed it continuously, stumbling over the aforementioned obstacles trying to reach it. It was about this time where Fyodor noticed that the swing was sitting nearly perfectly still without you on it and his eyes immediately darted around the playground. When he couldn't find you, he called out your name, drawing the attention of the attention of the other kids. "I think I saw someone go down there." The girl from earlier pointed towards the woods. Fyodor cursed under his breath and made his way towards the forest as quickly as possible with Nikolai. "Y/n! Come back here!" He called out for you, worried and annoyed all at once. You had successfully pounced on the bunny, holding it in your arms and heading towards Nikolai and your papa again. You had now been satisfied in catching the rodent, an innocent expression on your face when your papa came into view. The rabbit was squirming in your grasp, but you held him out to your father.
"Papa, Uncle Nikolai, look what I caught!" Fyodor let's out a sigh of relief but places a hand on your back and guides you back to the playground. "Let that filthy animal go, sweetheart, it's probably diseased, and you cannot keep running off like that! I was worried sick, don't do that ever again." He says, a hand over his heart. You reluctantly let the rabbit go, turning to watch it dash off. "I'm sorry papa.." you mumble, grabbing at his cape. He sighs. "It's not fine, but I'm more happy that I found you than I am angry at you." He says, Nikolai nods in agreement. You sigh in relief and go to sit down on the bench, but Fyodor pulls you right back up by your shirt, like a kitten by the scruff. "No, you're going home to wash those rodent germs off of your hands, and then you're gonna pick up your bedroom while your at it." He says. You groan and accept the light punishment he gave. "Yes papa..." You weren't to upset about it all in all, because he could have been harsher on you, especially since you've repeatedly done this, but instead he only wanted you to clean your room; leaving the park and those mean kids behind isnt a loss in the slightest.
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A/n; again I'm so sorry if this is bad, I feel horrible for it being so late but I'm locking in on my reqs now yall istg
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