#complicated and nobody else that's also in this situation is willing to step up to help me on either front | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-modernmary · 3 years ago

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chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

“BAU,” you supplied.

“—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

“So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

“I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

“— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you.

Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

“Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

It was exhilarating.

“Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

“Yes. Or no.”

Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

“Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

“Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

“Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

“Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

“And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

“As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

“Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

“All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

Two moves to checkmate.

“Sustained,” said the judge.

“Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

“I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

“What did you major in for your undergrad?”

Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

“None,” Aaron said finally.

“None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

“A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

Checkmate.

“Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

“Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

“The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning.

“In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

“I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

“He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

“That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

“Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

“Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

“Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

“Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

“I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

“Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

“You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

“Not at all.”

“I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip.

“I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

“Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss.

His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs.

Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

“What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone.

“Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

“More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

“Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

“By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

“Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

“I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

“Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

“I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was.

“Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

“Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it.

The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

“Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

“Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

“Forgetting something?”

You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

“These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

“Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

“I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

“Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #my writing #criminal minds

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dreamteamspace · 4 years ago

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They really went there huh

/rp (good lord I rly hyperfixated on this essay huh)

torture tw, abuse tw, manipulation tw, gaslighting tw

So the Dream SMP built a character, once maybe morally gray, who slipped straight into villany with little to no desire to change, and willing to cause a LOT of pain to get his way. Despite this, he doesn’t question what he does enough to stop, justifying his actions with a good intent that doesn’t come close to justifying what he’s done.

C!Dream is unremorseful of what he’s done, he’s quite literally manipulated and gaslit (like actually, not in the way everyone keeps throwing the word around) c!Tommy, almost drove him to take his last life- like, jesus christ. That’s not even to mention blowing up L’Manburg three times, encouraging c!Wilbur, wanting the discs JUST to have power over c!Tommy, etc.

SO, he gets thrown in a box for it so he doesn’t hurt anybody anymore, making his own hubris his downfall (narrative consequence my beloved). This leads us to a good finale - the bad guy, the person who’s caused objectively the most pain and destruction, is now unable to do so anymore, taken down by the person whom he tried to weaken. It is also revealed he was planning on blackmailing and threatening pretty much everyone, but now everyone gets their stuff back.

Good, right?

Especially for the finale, yeah! The message of the finale is good, c!Tommy manages to escape his abuser with nothing more but his clothes on his back and fights his way back to c!Tubbo and his home.

He doesn’t let his trauma (which is still very present!) let him become a terrible person (arguably the way that c!Dream DID let his frustrations make him a terrible person, c!Tommy, despite bearing quite a heavy weight, recognizes when he begins to turn that way and actively works against it).

It shows that while alone, c!Tubbo and c!Tommy were outfought by Dream, but because c!Tommy went the length to ask for help (which he didn’t even really seem to be relying on actually showing up), he wins! It truly is a good message.

C!Tommy escapes his abuser and manipulator, refuses and fights his trauma to not become someone he doesn’t want to be, and defeats his abuser by asking for help and receiving it, even more than he thought he’d get. He refuses to play c!Dream’s “game”, refuses till the very last moment to let c!Tubbo die, to surrender and say goodbye to him.

So, great! Good finale! C!Dream The Villain is boxed like a fish in a prison of, quite literally, his own making. It sent a good message to people. C!Tommy wasn’t expected to forgive him and did, in fact, axe him down twice, causing c!Dream to finally fall from his high horse.

Most media would stop at this point, say the villain is now defeated and never show them again, or have them come back another one or two seasons later, escaped and seemingly unharmed and worse than ever.

Alternatively, there’s a throwaway line, (or, in good media, a genuine, reasonable backstory, complete with remorse and bad role models and complicated situations), that allows the villain to be redeemed.

In GOOD redemption arcs (See: Zuko from avatar tbh), the villain was already never quite as heartless, or stressed their good intent, or felt remorse for what they felt they “had to do”. Then, ideally, the villain takes a looooong time adjusting their habits, regretting their actions and changing until they’re considered redeemed.

Not on the Dream SMP, though.

They don’t stop at c!Dream’s defeat.

He doesn’t dissapear off-screen and is never spoken of again. His life continues on, everyone’s does, just like it would in reality. He doesn’t magically want to become a better person, far from it. So no redemption. But he doesn’t dissapear, either.

They go on to, slowly, stress how awful the conditions in Pandora’s Vault are. c!Bad says c!Dream should be imprisoned, but at least at slightly better conditions. We’re in very VERY morally gray territorry here. Nobody says c!Dream is a good person, of course not, but even c!Bad - who knows Dream was planning on keeping c!Skeppy in a cage to control him with - goes, “yeah, he should stay boxed, but does he really need to like... suffer suffer?”

Still, c!Dream seems to be kindof inconsistent in his behavior. Is he faking his pain? Is he not? His actions don’t fully make sense for either take. He acts differently to each person, but at the same time some things he does don’t make sense if he were just fishing for pity.

Then c!Sam admits to trying (and thinking he succeeded) to “break Dream’s will”, to quite literally starving him for weeks.

Okay, so now we’re a step further. C!Dream is now suffering even more, although already boxed and unable to hurt anyone. Pandora’s Vault is one thing, but now c!Sam just seems to be out for revenge and nothing more. Instead of spending his time with c!Tommy, he spends his time pickaxing(?) c!Dream.

C!Sam isn’t an angel, and we should all know that by now. He does what he thinks is right, but he’s deeper than that, all characters on the DSMP are.

He cares deeply for the Badlands, and would always choose them above anybody else. He’s a capitalist. He built the prison because it would benefit the Badlands resource-wise, despite knowing Dream would probably use it on his enemies, and it was no secret that ALL members of L’Manburg, especially c!Tommy, are his enemies. C!Sam, undoubtedly, knew that. He still built it.

Arguably, he didn’t know about c!Dream’s attachment obsession at the time, but the point still stands.

People have already latched onto the untold story happening between c!Dream and c!Sam, and frankly, we barely know enough about it. Does c!Sam torture him regularly? Do they talk? Does c!Dream try to verbally fight back? CAN he fight back? We don’t know! We’ve gotten proof for both, between c!Sam saying that c!Dream is terrifying even in prison and c!Dream going silent to go on strike. We don’t have enough of an idea how bad or how good it truly is.

So the people who prefer to humanize c!Dream and explore morality imagine c!Sam to downright torture him, people that prefer to see c!Dream as nothing but evil due to his actions imagine prison on the DSMP to not be equivalent to real life prison, and thus nowhere near as torturous as people are making it out to be.

Now all that is thrown out the window as c!Quackity quite literally tortures him.

So now the internet is faced with a question that, judging by some of the impulsive reactions *cough cough* celebrating torture *cough*, it didn’t turn out to be ready for.

Tell me.

How far do we go?

C!Dream hurt a LOT of people. He did a lot of things that caused irreparable damage. Now what? Do we torture him forever? Why? Because he deserves it? How do we determine that without comparing one kind of pain to another?

It’s custom and kindof generally respectful not to compare people’s pain too accurately, because different things vary greatly in severity depending on the person that experiences them.

At what point do we say he’s suffered enough without comparing exile to the prison?

And if we DO compare, does that even make the question easier to answer?

And if he’s never suffered enough ever, killing them would be a mercy...

At what point has a person done enough damage that they “deserve” to die? What if someone only did half of the things c!Dream did. But if c!Dream gets infinite punishment, and half of infinity is still infinity, do they ALSO deserve endless suffering?

Do you think every person that did something you can’t emphasize with deserves to suffer for eternity and die?

I’m not saying we SHOULD emphasize with c!Dream. He did things we cannot justify, that NOTHING can justify. He did things that were, by their nature, unjustified.

I’m also not saying anybody should forgive him. I think it’s a GOOD thing that c!Tommy doesn’t want nor is narratively pushed to forgive c!Dream.

But c!Dream doesn’t need c!Tommy’s forgiveness to be... a person.

There’s a saying that I’m sure you know, that goes “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”, because there’s things you wouldn’t want any human being to experience. Not because you like them, not cause you think they’re right, but because they’re human.

And perhaps this is my personal opinion, but I don’t think c!Dream being a bad person justifies dehumanizing him, because then we get into an area where someone needs to meet criteria just to be human.

I met someone once, whom, because of outside circumstances I knew I probably wouldn’t meet again. We’d been getting along just fine for people who just met, and were both getting into an interesting discussion about morality. They kept insisting upon something I kept refuting, so they said they needed to get something off their chest.

They proceeded to tell me that they had, years ago, while a teen, manipulated someone in a relationship, pushed boundaries and tried to convince them to do things they didn’t really want to do to get what they wanted.

They cried, while telling me, too terrified to tell anybody they know, terrified nobody would ever speak to them again, insanely regretful of their actions. They didn’t know whether to go back and apologize or just stay as far away as humanly possible, didn’t know which one the right thing to do is.

It had been years, by then, and I talked them through it. I said that what they did was bad, and there’s no going around that. But I also said what I saw, which is someone who would never do something like that ever again. I saw a human being. Someone who regrets a mistake they did and now, after enough time has passed, would do anything to make it undone.

Someone who is too terrified to be close to anybody in fear that they would do it again. I don’t remember if they already went to therapy or not, but it was definitly on the table, or in the near future.

They asked me how I could possibly even keep talking to them after they told me all that. They implied they felt like some kind of monster despite literally chocking back tears, firmly convinced they don’t deserve to be close to anybody in their life ever again.

I never swerved from the fact that what they did was wrong, and harmful. But I also told them they’re human. The universe isn’t keeping score. They want to be a better person now, and they were never going to learn how if they never let themselves be close to anybody.

I told them to seek therapy, and to slowly, carefully, try. Assured them that the fact that they regret it so strongly will at least help them in not falling back into the same pattern, and if they do, they can learn to recognize that.

They thanked me after the conversation, genuinely, especially for the fact that I didn’t sugarcoat what happened, because I know otherwise it would’ve felt like I was lying, like I was just sparing their feelings. I wasn’t. I was thinking about how to make sure they get to live without hurting anybody.

As per the circumstances, we didn’t speak again after that, which we knew basicly from the very start.

I still think about that conversation a lot.

Do you think they should’ve been locked up for life after it happened, instead?

Do you think this real human being, that I spoke to, that took years to realize their mistake - and never would have realized it if they hadn’t had the time to, if they’d been killed right afterwards - deserves to suffer forever?

Let me tell you something, from someone who’s been in more than one abusive situation: People that hurt you are human.

That doesn’t mean you have to forgive them. That doesn’t mean you have to like them. That doesn’t mean you have to make an effort to understand them. That doesn’t mean you need to go anywhere near them ever again.

You can hate them. You can be angry at them. You can (and should) go as far away from them as possible, and/or defend yourself.

But that doesn’t mean you have to dehumanize them.

You’re allowed to hate and dislike people that are human, because you’re human, especially if they hurt you. That’s how life is.

And to go back to my original point - c!Quackity torturing c!Dream is not something that should be celebrated.

There’s a difference between necessary measures (locking c!Dream up so he doesn’t hurt anyone), and torturing people for fun.

It’s not right. It’s never going to be right, and do not justify literal torture on human beings, and do not make someone lower-than-human to justify torturing them.

Taking revenge on someone for what they did tenfold is romanticized, I know, but I promise you it’s not actually as cool as it sounds.

#dreamwastaken #quackity #awesamdude #dream smp #dream smp analysis #dreamteamspace speaks #negativity #fandom critical #its finished and Im finally free #c!Dream #c!Quackity crit #c!Quackity critial

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hotmesshapa · 4 years ago

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VIP • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: smut • DJ!chan x stripper!reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.6k

warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, very light orgasm denial and spanking, a bit of fluff

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in literal years and I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m sorry in advance lol. also shoutout to these lovelies for being interested from the start 🖤 @mikoto-ica-fics @missskzbiased @bratforbin @jungkooksbroski

There are three strict rules in the club: no touching the strippers, no romantic work relationships, and absolutely no sex in the club. Your manager had everyone sign off on his rules for a reason; you didn’t even want to imagine the chaos that could ensue if everyone was allowed to do whatever they desired in the club.

However, whenever Chan was DJing on the nights you worked, you always considered blowing off those rules. But you knew better. You both enjoyed your jobs at the club and wouldn’t risk getting fired over something as stupid breaking the few rules, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. It’s not your fault that he always came into work wearing tight shirts that clung to his muscles in ways that made you drool. It’s not your fault that he flirted back whenever you playfully hit on him while handing off your playlist for the night. It’s not your fault you noticed the way his eyes hungrily stared you down whenever you were on the main stage, or the way his jaw clenched in jealousy whenever you took a guest to the VIP room.

But rules are meant to be broken, right?

Tonight starts out no different from any other work night: greeting the other girls and bartenders, taking a quick shot of tequila for an extra boost of confidence, and digging through your purse trying to find your flash drive of songs you want played for your routines.

“Got anything new for me, babygirl?”

You snap your head up at the sound of the handsome DJ’s voice. “Hello to you too, Chan,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He shamelessly checks you out and gives you a cocky grin that you can’t decide if it makes you want smack him or pounce on him “You know if Minho hears you speak to me like that, you’re in a world of shit.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s not here tonight. But even if he was, he wouldn’t dare fire me. I’m the best DJ this club has.”

“Well then, fuck my drag,” Changbin pipes up from behind the booth, shooting a glare at Chan. “If you’re so great, set up your own table then.”

“Don’t listen to him, Binnie,” you giggle as you go back to searching for your flash drive, “He just likes to think he has all the power around here.”

Changbin scoffs as he continues to set up his mixers. “Only when you’re around. The other girls would kill to have him flirt with them.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the comment, but try your best to ignore the feeling as you turn back to Chan and hand him your music. “I have some new songs for tonight. Feel free to play whichever ones you want to watch me dance to.”

“Jesus,” Changbin rolls his eyes, “get a room, you two.”

You shoot Chan a quick wink, earning a smirk from him, and turn around to head to the dressing rooms, well aware his eyes are glued to you as you leave.

You close the door behind you and set your purse down on the vanity, checking your phone and cursing at the time. You hadn’t realized that your mini flirting session took up more time than expected, and start frantically getting ready, changing into your black satin two-piece that left very little to the imagination and applying a generous amount of body highlighter to every exposed part of you.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think about what Changbin had said. You and Chan flirt all the time, and normally it doesn’t affect you, but something about Changbin’s comment has your head spinning. Something about discovering Chan only flirts with you just makes you want to break the rules even more, but you don’t want to risk your jobs just because you desperately want him to dick him down. You wouldn’t do that to him. You sigh and slip into your stilettos, checking your appearance one last time before stepping out onto the main floor for your night to begin.

The night had been running smoothly as usual: three pole routines with the songs Chan chose from your collection (all by The Weeknd, of course), and a few rotations around the club flirting with guests, giving a couple of lapdances. You have a generous amount of bills tucked into your thong and bra, and you pull them out to count, trying to smooth them out and make them look somewhat presentable. You make your way to the DJ booth, where you find Chan leaning against the wall beside the booth, scrolling through his phone and sipping on a beer, while Changbin is behind the table, engrossed with the set he was playing.

“Here,” you say, handing Chan his tip. “You made some really good choices tonight. I had a feeling you’d choose The Weeknd.”

“What can I say,” he smirks, “You can’t just give me the option to play his hottest songs and not expect me to do anything about it. Especially when I get to watch you dance to them.”

He suddenly leans in, closing any space there was between you two. “By the way, your routine to ‘Life of the Party’? So. Fucking. Hot,” he purrs, looking straight into the eyes.

“Chan,” your voice falters for a second, your eyes unintentionally dropping to his lips, before bringing them back up to meet his stare. You clear your throat in efforts to recover, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in your core. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Come on, Y/N, would that be so bad?”

“God, I can’t leave you two alone for one set, can I?” Changbin slides himself between you and the other DJ, throwing an arm over your shoulder and playfully wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You elbow him in the ribs, earning a dramatic cry from him in return, and you can’t help but giggle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Three shots? Maybe four? I don’t remember.” He hums in appreciation as you hand him a wad of cash. “I can’t believe I’m gonna pay this month’s rent with your ass money,” he laughs, trying to shake off as much body glitter from the bills you handed him before sliding them into his wallet.

You roll your eyes. “I can give you tit money, if you pref-“

“There’s my baby!”

The three of you spin around at the familiar voice, coming face to face with a young man, his dark hair grazing his eyes as he shamelessly checks you out.

“Jisung! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Changbin greets the man with a typical bro handshake, before swinging an arm around his neck. “Here for the usual?”

“Of course,” Jisung smiles at you, “It’s not a Friday night without a visit with Y/N.”

Jisung was one of your regulars; he came in every Monday and Friday to book private lapdances with you, and only you. The first night he booked you, he almost immediately admitted how enamored he was with you, and ever since then, he refused to book with any of the other girls. And to be fair, you might have allowed him to break one of the rules, letting him grab your ass, hips and breasts as you danced, especially since that always earned a better tip from him. But now, while he still did request lapdances every now and then, he mainly booked you just to talk, and fortunately for you, he still tipped generously. He was an assistant to a big-time music producer, a job that came with a handful of stressors that he just needed to rant to someone about, and you were always willing to be there to listen.

While the relationship you and Jisung formed over the past year is strictly platonic, that hadn’t stopped Chan from developing a slight sense of jealousy. And to make matters more complicated, Jisung was well aware of that tension and loved to push the DJ’s buttons, much to your chagrin.

Jisung shifts his focus to Chan, giving him a cocky smirk that you know will be followed by a snarky comment. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty lil’ lady all day. You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Of course not,” scoffs Chan, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need my permission. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Awww. And I know that must be difficult for yo-”

“But she doesn’t belong to you either.”

Jisung says nothing for a moment, before cocking his head at the DJ with a smirk and stepping towards him. “Oh? Is that so? I don’t see anyone else going to the VIP room with her the nights I’m here.”

“Guys-” you feebly try to take control of the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“Y/N is a human being, not a fucking dog, Jisung. Nobody ‘owns’ her.” Chan crosses his arms against his chest, looking the younger man dead in the eye. “If anything, considering you’ve been coming here and paying her the big bucks, for what, a year now? I’d say she’s the one that owns you.”

Jisung smirk immediately disappears and you swear you can feel the air between the two men flood with tension. But within an instant, he smiles again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Now, now, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and have some fun for the both of us. If you want, I can tell you all about it later.”

You quickly glance at Chan, his fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps, his jaw clenching so hard he looks like he could bust a vein in his neck.

“That’s enough,” Changbin interjects, massaging his temples in frustration. “Come on, Chan, you’re in the booth next. And Jisung? Just remember the club rules-”

“I know, I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “Shall we, baby?”

You nod, silently praying that Changbin will calm everything down once you leave, and the two of you head to the VIP room. Jisung opens the door follows you inside, jumping in surprise when you slam it shut and shoot him a glare, and he only laughs in response. “What? If you can tease him, why can’t I?”

You sit on the maroon leather couch in the VIP room, counting your tips and mentally making sure you had enough to pay your upcoming bills for the month. Jisung had left about twenty minutes ago, and the lack of muffled music from the main floor indicates that it’s finally 3am and the club is closed for the night. You release a long sigh, slouching in your seat and resting your head back on the couch. You close your eyes, your mind still reeling from everything that happened. Everything about tonight shocked you. Usually, Chan was good at hiding his jealousy, since the last thing both of you want was to scare away potential guests, or for Minho to notice. But Chan talking back? His reaction to Jisung’s last jab before leaving for the VIP room? Those were new.

You have never seen Chan that jealous, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it was fucking hot. Thoughts of Chan not only standing up for you, but also being possessive of you, and what he could do to you out of jealousy filled your head, and you feel a sudden tingle shoot down to your core. Everything in you knows that you shouldn’t fuck Chan. There are rules, but you can’t stop your mind from imagining all the possible sinful acts you could do with him that you would do anything for at this point. You know that would be a bad idea, but the delicious wetness pooling between your thighs shoves any inhibitions you previously had out the door.

Fuck the rules.

You walk out onto the empty main floor, letting out a breath of relief to find Chan packing up his mixers - alone. You tap on the booth to get his attention, giggling when he jumps in surprise.

“You’re still here? I’d thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I was just counting tips,” you reply as you glance around the club, making sure you two were truly alone. “Chan… about earlier-”

“Yeah... sorry about that.” He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I just... you know I get a bit jealous sometimes, and that prick was being extra annoying about it tonight.”

“Not gonna lie though, your clapback was pretty great. And hilarious,” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He laughs. “Yeah, well I’m glad you thought it was, because Changbin sure as hell lectured me about it for a solid 15 minutes.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as Chan goes back to packing up the table. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to ease any tension that might be lingering, and to bring up what you truly want from him. “Chan... Jisung and I just talk when we’re in the VIP room. Nothing happens-”

He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his current task. “You don’t need to tell me, Y/N. It’s honestly none of my business what you do with the guests. Like I said earlier, you don’t belong to me.”

“But what if I want to?”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his stare flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you with such an intensity that ignites a fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, placing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen, and it makes you smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing onto yours, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, indicating how desperately both of you have been wanting to do this.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you back with such an intensity that further ignites the fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you softly moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, planting kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen as he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing down onto yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you instantly give him. You can feel his hard on growing beneath his jeans as he rolls his hips against you once more, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hey, so I’m done-”

Changbin’s voice abruptly interrupts your heated rendezvous, making you frantically scramble out of Chan’s arms and dive underneath the table, while Chan quickly pretends to continue breaking down the DJ booth.

“You guys are literally the least discreet people I know. It blows my mind that you haven’t been caught yet.” You can’t see him, you just know Changbin is shooting Chan one of his signature death glares, intended for the both of you. You poke your head out from behind the booth, which only gets you dramatic eye roll from the other DJ. “Just don’t make a mess and don’t forget to lock up,” he grumbles as he turns to leave. “Oh, by the way bro, you got shit on your face.”

You glance up at Chan, giggling at your lipstick smeared along his lips, jaw, and neck, the bright red color prominent against his pale skin. He narrows his eyes at you, and you innocently mouth the word “whoops”, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

As soon as you hear the doors close, Chan pulls you to your feet, lifting you up and pinning you to the table. He attacks your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, but thankfully not rough enough to leave any marks that’ll need to be covered up for your next shift. Desperate for more, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips up against his, smirking against his lips as he groans into your mouth.

Chan begins to plant wet kisses down your stomach as his hands frantically move from your hips to his belt. He begins to undo the buckle before you grab his hands to stop him, which only gets out a small whimper in confusion from the man. “Not here,” you lean up to pull him closer and playfully nip his bottom lip, before grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it so he’s looking you straight in the eyes. “The VIP room.”

Chan’s eyes darken with lust as he harshly kisses you again, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, but it makes the heat between your legs grow by the second. You let out a yelp in surprise as he lifts you into his arms without warning, making his way to the infamous room where he’s watched you lead guests into night after night.

The second he steps into the VIP room, it’s as if both of your desires are kicked into overdrive, the desperation for what you’ve been waiting for all this time becoming almost unbearable. You take his bottom lip between your teeth again and tug on it lightly, relishing the way his grip on your ass tightens exponentially. Chan kicks the door closed, not breaking the kiss for one second as he sits down on the leather couch, positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his prominent bulge underneath the rough material of his jeans as he ruts up against your clothed heat, and you whimper as you grind against him, desperately wanting more and trying to indicate how much you want him need him now. You feel his hands firmly hold you in place, halting your motions and making you whine in frustration, which only earns you a low chuckle in response.

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

You roughy kiss him and swivel your hips against him, smirking when he releases a throaty groan against your lips. You take a hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you so you can look him in his lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Chan. All of you.”

Chan smirks, giving you a quick kiss before lifting you off his lap, pulling down his jeans and flinging them off to god knows where. You hastily rip off your two piece and toss it haphazardly across the room, giggling when Chan pulls you back into his lap the second you’re bare in front of him. His gaze is locked on your form, taking you all in before looking back into your eyes. He stares at you as if you are a goddess, and you feel your cheeks flush from the attention.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, his hands sliding up and down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brings one hand to your jaw, pulling you into a searing kiss, his other hand taking hold his rigid member and sliding it through your sopping folds, making you shameless moan aloud. “Ride me babygirl,” Chan mumbles as he begins to kiss and nip at your collarbone, “take what you want from me.”

With that, you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, keening at the way he deliciously stretches you out, finally giving you the taste of what you’ve been wanting for so long. Chan throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, a sinful groan falling from lips as you sit on him completely. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size, you wrap your arms around neck and pull him back so he’s meeting your gaze. You take his hands and intertwine them with yours, pinning them behind his head as you begin to ride him, slowly lifting yourself off him before quickly dropping back down. A string of illicit moans and curses falls from Chan’s lips, his hands firmly gripping yours, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking your grasp and taking control. He trails wet kisses down your chest, licking your nipples before taking them into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth, making you whimper and lean into his touch. You pick up for pace, admiring the way his face contorts into different expressions of pleasure as he throws his head back and looks up at you with glassy eyes.

“S-shit babygirl...”

His bout of self control doesn’t last much longer, because the next thing you know, Chan rips his hands from your grip, placing them on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway, hitting you in just the right spot. He moves a hand from your hips to rub firm circles against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck... Chan- oh my god...”

You try your best to continue to ride him, but you feel your thighs getting weaker and weaker with every thrust. You feel the pressure in your core building to the point of complete euphoria, when he lifts you off of him completely. You whine in frustration, feeling your high fade, hating how empty you feel without him buried inside you.

“Don’t worry baby,” Chan chuckles at your protests, suddenly flipping you around and positioning you on all fours on the couch. He places a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, before moving up to nibble your earlobe. “You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

He aligns himself with your entrance and eases into you, the new position allowing him to fill you deeper than before, making you both release illicit moans at the feeling. Chan slowly retracts his rock hard member from you, only to instantly plunge back into you, taking no time to pick up the pace, slamming into you at a rate that’s making you see stars. The momentum of his actions force you forward on the couch, making you cling desperately to the armrest in attempt to stable yourself, praying your shaky legs won’t completely give out underneath him. Suddenly, a sharp slap comes down on your ass, making you cry out and clench around him.

“Fuck... you like that, baby?” He massages where his hand had landed, only to spank your ass once more.

“G-god, yes Chan... p-please... harder.”

You feel another slap, come down on your other cheek, this time much harder, and you can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling, the delicious sting causing your grip around his cock to tighten exponentially. You hear him let out a low groan as his hips begin to slap against yours at a brutal speed, and you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel again.

“C-Chan, I’m... I’m close...”

“I know, babygirl, I can feel you.” Chan leans over you and plants rough kisses against your neck. “Go on, Y/N, cum for me.”

With his permission, you come undone around him, your release white hot, hitting you like a train and making your mind go completely blank as he continues to roll his hips into you, helping you ride out your high. Your legs feel useless under you, but thankfully Chan’s firm grip on your hips keeps you from collapsing from exhaustion. His thrusts start to become more and more erratic, desperately chasing his own high, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy still throbbing around him. You can tell he’s close, and clench around him hard, smirking as you hear a string of curses fall from his lips, his hips rutting and quivering against you as he paints your walls white, and you hum in content at the warm feeling.

Chan slowly pulls out of you and falls back on the couch, gently pulling you so you’re laying on top of him. You leans up and playfully nip at his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

“That was...”

“Amazing,” you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and you eyes flutter close as you bask in heat the radiates from his body. He absentmindedly run his fingers lightly up and down your back, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He quietly asks, as if he’s hesitant to bring it up again. “Do you want want to belong to me?”

You look up at him, and you swear you can feel your heart expand at the way he’s staring back at you with so much hope and adoration. “I do... god I really do, Chan, but you know we can’t. We barely manage to flirt without getting caught, so this has to be one-time thing-“

“I got offered a job at a different club,” Chan quickly blurts out. “It has better hours, more creative freedom since I wouldn’t be DJing for strippers... If I took it, would it change things?”

“You’d do that? But you love this job.”

“I do, but not gonna lie, I mainly love it because I get to see you.” His comment makes you blush, and you bury your face in his chest again if efforts to keep him from noticing, which only gets you a soft laugh as he gently tips your chin up to face him again.

“Honestly, if it means I can do what we just did with you whenever we wanted, without having to worry about stupid rules or anything, then fuck yeah I’d take another job. The only downside is I won’t be able to watch you dance when I work.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, laughing when you just roll your eyes at him.

You sit up, positioning yourself so that you’re straddling him once more. “That just means you’ll have to come back here as a guest.”

“Hmmm...” he mumbles as his eyes travel up and down your body, his hands reaching around and lightly squeezing your ass. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow the club rules though.”

“Don’t worry about those,” you purr, leaning down and nibbling on his ear, earning a quiet moan from him. “If you become my regular, all the rules are off the table.”

“I like the sound of that.” Chan gently cups your jaw and pulls you into a tender, but passionate kiss.

You smile against him, running your fingers through his hair, before pulling away slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Then I’m yours, Chan.”

“And I’m yours as well,” he whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips, before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, earning him a yelp from you. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “What do you say, let me show how I can really treat you in the VIP room?”

#bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop imagines #bang chan #stray kids

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parafic · 14 days ago

Text

Mostly it's that I've been reading and absorbing fandom personalities for them (Izuna dramatic and showy, Hikaku The Sane One) for... however many years, and I'm trying to do something a bit different with their personalities, but those standard ones are still ingrained.

So for Izuna, what caught my attention is that apparently he's described in the data book as something that gets translated as 'peace-loving' or 'harmonious' (and probably other things, but those are the ones I've seen). Which is kind of a contrast to the very little we see of him, in which he seems very eager to fight and distrusting of peace.

It could just be that he's in favor of peace generally, but distrusts the Senju specifically and we just don't see his opinion on peace otherwise. But I think, combined with how Madara and the Uchiha fell apart without him, it's also reasonable (and to me, more interesting) to interpret that as a reference to someone who values/is a source of interpersonal harmony. Izuna is the one who notices and redirects a conversation before an argument starts, soothes ruffled feathers, listens to peoples' concerns and persuades them to give Madara's latest strategy a try, finds an excuse to have a celebration when people need to be cheered up, notices if a clan member is being excluded and figures out what's up and how to fix it. He keeps morale up and everyone working together.

But the flip side of that is someone who's really conflict averse (emotionally speaking), and to do all that effectively for a whole clan, he's constantly putting on different personas. So like, that common characterization where he's dramatic and demanding might be how he acts around Madara, because Madara likes having a baby brother, but he doesn't do it around anyone else. And he'll have a bunch of other different ways of acting for when he's around younger shinobi, older shinobi, various groups of elders, kids, parents, etc, based on what they expect of him/like him to be. (Everyone does this to an extent, but I'm thinking Izuna does it a lot more than most.)

And at the same time, when things upset him, he's likely to let them go because he doesn't want to start an argument, people would be upset if he asked them to stop, etc, and if he just ignores it then nobody's upset so no harm done, right? So the end result is an Izuna who's barely (if at all) more aware of his own emotions than Tobirama is, he just has a very different mask.

So from a writing perspective, that is a complicated character to write anyway, and it overlaps enough with the popular characterization I see that sometimes I'm not entirely sure which I'm writing. Also this is a weird and extreme situation that Izuna has no preestablished way of acting for, so in-story he's struggling to figure out how to act to begin with. So it's a lot to balance, basically.

Hikaku is a little simpler! The way I'm characterizing Izuna overlaps some with Hikaku's usual only sane man/The One Who Gets Things Done role, so I want to give Hikaku some other traits so that he doesn't feel redundant. I also think he deserves to get to be Uchiha dramatic sometimes too, but I don't want to just give him a copy of Madara's/Izuna's/Sasuke's usual personality.

So I'm aiming for him being quieter than they are, but without just being calm, and more willing to argue and criticize (or just snark) than Izuna usually will be. But he's also starting out in an extreme situation that has him very off kilter emotionally, so he wouldn't be acting exactly like himself anyway, so I'm trying to figure out like, his baseline personality, and also how that's going to be affected by what's going on at the same time, so it's kind of doing two steps at once. (And is part of why I've been using his POV so much; it helps me work all that out when I can just write out all his thoughts as I go.)

Honestly the tunnel visioning is probably most of what ADHD Tobirama will mean for this fic; it's more that I just looked at how I usually characterize him and went 'yeah that sounds like ADHD'. Though Hikaku mentioning that Tobirama is "even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration" is a bit more deliberate reference to Tobirama showing ADHD symptoms (since fidget toys are not exactly abundant in this setting, and he'd probably consider them too undignified to use himself anyway).

The sensing bloodline limit is all me! One of those headcanons that technically kind of contradicts canon a little but like. I prefer it. (Though @domoz is using a variant in the Hanahaki-adjacent AU!)

Basically the idea is that usually, a person's chakra system is like the circulatory system: it's more or less closed off from anything external, your body produces and uses it, but anything from outside is going through the stomach or lungs or something first.

But in the Senju, chakra is a little more permeable. It's a little more like, say, the water in a bay: it's distinct from the ocean but it's not cut off from the ocean by any means, and there's always some amount of flow back and forth.

So, because they're always having a little bit of chakra flow back and forth with the chakra around them (both natural and other Senjus' chakra), they get passive sensing. Which is not entirely as useful as it sounds; range is based largely on how much chakra a person has (though they can extend it or pull it back with conscious effort) but learning to distinguish chakra signatures and place their location is difficult and much rarer for someone to be good at. Hashirama for example technically has a bigger sensing range than Tobirama, but he can't distinguish signatures or estimate distance well, so it's not much use for him. (Though he will be able to tell that Tobirama is still alive while he's trapped on the island.)

All Senju (with this trait) do have the advantage of being able to feel when another chakra signature is present though, since basically no one else knows this is a sense to hide from. Senju can also read shifts in peoples' chakra the way that other people might read facial expressions, which again other people don't usually learn to control or hide, so the Senju get a nice edge there.

(In this headcanon the sensing jutsu, which Hikaku uses in this fic and is used in canon, was invented in the past to both give allies access to some of the same information the Senju had, and to cover up that what the Senju were doing was not a jutsu. Which is why both exist.)

Senju might also have a bit of an advantage at using elemental and/or sage jutsu, because their chakra is always a little bit bleeding back and forth with natural chakra, so it's more familiar to them. Not a huge advantage though.

The vulnerability is poison. Most poisons target the physical body and very few target chakra itself (with the exception of chakra suppressing poisons, which are more common). But when a Senju is hit by something that turns their chakra toxic, it will spread to every other Senju in their range, and then in all those Senjus' ranges, and....

So best case scenario an entire team gets wiped out. More likely it's several teams in the same area. Worst case scenario someone gets hit with something while Hashirama is alive, it spreads to his chakra, and from him it spreads to every other Senju with the same trait, and that's how the Senju clan disappears.

Tobirama escapes because he happened to be in his lab at the time, which is shielded against chakra going in or out, in case he accidentally invented something chakra toxic. And some Senju, presumably including Tsunade and Nawaki, just don't have the trait to begin with so they survive. But most of the clan falls over dead within about an hour, which Senju generations ago more or less saw coming, which is why they kept the bloodline so secret and tried to breed it out.

(Some non-Senju in allied clans that intermarried would probably also have had the trait and died along with the Senju too, but I have not planned anything detailed about that because that is the bad ending AU and I don't enjoy those.)

a lot more focused on the results of interaction than the often annoyingly intricate path to get there "correctly", except people put a lot of stock on the "correct" path of behavior and WILL react weirdly if you don't follow enough of it.

Yeah! Tobirama is very focused on efficiency and getting things done, and he thinks everyone else ought to be equally focused on practicalities, so he has no interest in wasting time on being indirect.

I do think he can be polite if he has to--he's a clan heir, he's going to get stuck doing politics and diplomacy to some extent, so he doesn't really get a choice about learning this, and he's the type to learn how to be excellent at it because it's important even if he hates it. (And he's aware of appearances, demonstrated by scolding Hashirama about dignity in public and such.) But getting him to use those skills when he's not in an explicitly diplomatic setting (or maybe in disguise) isn't likely.

(Which does again make him kind of the opposite of Izuna; Izuna is compulsively diplomatic, because he sees value in building rapport and connections with as many people as possible. Izuna is building a tightly-knit community while Tobirama runs a well-oiled machine.)

You're welcome, I'm glad you like the songbirds! If you haven't read it, you might like @denialcity's hanahaki AU, for adoration grow. Somewhere in there is a scene where Izuna sings for Tobirama and Tobirama discovers that music can make him Feel Things.

(I also have equivalent headcanons for the Senju and Uzumaki collective hobbies, but they're not musical.)

Sparring will lead to yet another culture clash, in which the Uchiha decide the Senju are insane and Tobirama is judgy (after he gets over being freaked out).

The Uchiha aren't having too difficult a time; Kagami isn't old enough to know most sharingan secrets, and Ruri is old enough to know what not to say. Plus there's a general politeness norm among shinobi of not asking about clan secrets when clans are interacting in a polite way, so all the kids generally know not to ask (and probably don't know too many secrets even if they were asked).

Tobirama is having a bit more difficult a time keeping Uzumaki seals hidden, because the Uchiha can copy any seal they see him make and that would be that. But again, the Uzumaki kids are mostly either too young to know seals or old enough to remember not to share them, so Tobirama mostly has to hide his own work. Which is a bit inconvenient, but he can just tell the Uchiha to leave so he can make a seal, and can sense whether anyone is close enough to watch him, so it's workable.

They also don't really care much about other clans' secrets. If a kid from one water country clan gives something away to a kid from another, that is not their problem and they have bigger things to worry about. Rescue your own kids next time if it bothers you. Aside from the Uzumaki the clans here are too distant to be allies to either the Senju or the Uchiha, so they have no obligation to care and are already doing these clans a huge favor by rescuing their kids, keeping them alive, and eventually returning them.

Thank you! The jutsu definition headcanon is mostly Domoz's, although I did adopt it immediately.

And there actually aren't really secrets to worry about in that case! The Uchiha know that if a Senju uses a jutsu, that Senju will probably also know several 'related' jutsu; that's not something the Senju could or have attempted to hide. It's basically a semantic difference; the Senju label something on jutsu and the Uchiha label it a cluster of related jutsu, but everyone's still aware that the options exist.

Izuna specifically has been expecting Tobirama to show up with a 'new' water dragon jutsu for some time, so his reaction is more along the lines of 'of COURSE you can do this now'. Though he WILL be annoyed at Tobirama insisting that they're all one jutsu. Izuna takes pride in how many jutsu Tobirama has invented to fight him with, stop trying to ruin his score!

(It will probably come up very late, though; the most likely prompt for this is Tobirama being introduced to the Uchiha jutsu library, and that is a post-relationship thing motivated maybe by Izuna and Hikaku innocently trying to give him a gift and possibly by hopes of interesting him in the sex jutsu section.)

Tobirama has at minimum collected some hints about Uchiha organization! He's trying to figure out exactly how hierarchy works between Izuna and Hikaku, and who Hikaku is that he seems to sometimes have equal authority to Izuna.

The Senju have basically one hierarchy: Hashirama at the top, Tobirama second, and everyone in charge of various things they've delegated answering to them. War and missions are all built into the same system, and shinobi are sent where their talents are needed, because the down side to having a wide variety of talents is that you often only have one or two people that can do any specific thing. So a Senju who's good at sneaking in and stealing things, for example, will be sent to steal the enemies' battle plans and that valuable vase some lord wants but can't buy.

The Uchiha basically all learn the same style of fighting, the same types of jutsu, etc; obviously there's some variety but nothing compared to the Senju. They also might just have more people in general. So they have basically two hierarchies; the war/battle shinobi (who are led by Madara and Izuna) and the mission shinobi (who Hikaku is in charge of). The two operate in parallel, and shinobi generally only are part of one, not both (other than kids/young shinobi still figuring out where they fit).

(This could also have gone the other way around, and had the clan head running missions primarily and someone else handling the war. But uh, Madara and Izuna are both very war-oriented. In other generations it's been different.)

As a result of that, since they're on a mission, Hikaku is actually officially in charge here. But Izuna is the clan heir (and functional co-clan head) in addition to co-head of the war, so Hikaku is used to deferring to him and Izuna is used to being in charge, and Tobirama's presence is another argument for Izuna to take the lead because Hikaku has no personal experience with Tobirama. So Hikaku and Izuna are kind of unclear on who's in charge here, which is fine because they trust and respect each other and agree on their goals.

So that's what was going on when they're trying to plan how to attack, and Izuna says he's outvoted and makes Hikaku do the negotiating instead; if Izuna was actually in charge of the mission he couldn't be outvoted. And Tobirama doesn't know exactly what's up there but he's sure something is, so he's Observing. (And also why he asked about whether Izuna would follow the plan he and Hikaku made; he expects Izuna to outrank Hikaku the same way Tobirama would outrank any teammates he had on a mission, and Tobirama wouldn’t necessarily be obligated to keep an agreement/follow a plan any other Senju made, so he thinks it’s weird and suspicious that Hikaku is making the plans instead of Izuna.)

He was also fishing for information during the "you deserve to suffer slightly less than bloodline thieves" exchange; he's trying to figure out Izuna's opinions on peace/alliance, since that's a thing Hashirama wants.

(But also yes, he feels very bad about giving away the healing jutsu thing and will try to apologize to Hashirama about it when he gets the chance.)

That works really well for the limits on Hiraishin! It did always seem odd to me that two unrelated people could use it but no one else. (Though for Typhoon Island it's just not invented yet, otherwise Tobirama could teleport off the island and we wouldn't have weeks of pining to inflict on them all.)

...are you trying to show off for the pretty guys, Tobira? >__>

XD Not quite yet! (I mean, he might have been trying with the first fish, but that was general pride + "see I am a Useful Ally, now how about we stop this whole 'war' thing".) With the second fish he's just very sneakily being a little shit, because he thinks them freaking out over An Ordinary Fish is funny. (And unimpressive. But he can judge them AND laugh at them just fine.)

(He won't admit it. But this is the Tobirama version of a prank.)

You're welcome, and thank you! I'm really enjoying getting to talk about all this.

@starstuffduster You are SO right about needing distractions, unfortunately I am working overtime so it will be even later than usual before I can write

(Do send me lots of asks though! I'm off tomorrow so I can write plenty then)

In the meantime, have a couple of incomplete later scenes from Typhoon Island (which will probably get rewritten but they're fun for now)

Hikaku finds Tobirama sitting under the ledge, where the rain is blocked but some light still filters in. His eyes are closed, and his face is perfectly blank as he traces ink blindly over his face and throat. A seal, clearly, though what it’s meant to do, Hikaku can’t imagine.

Tobirama is too skilled not to have noticed him, even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration. How Tobirama managed to train his skills so that he is always aware of the people near him, but has missed sunrise, sunset, food placed beside him, and being rained on, all in the few weeks they’ve been here, Hikaku still hasn’t figured out. But a surprised shinobi reacts violently, and Tobirama is no exception, as proven by the times a sudden movement has startled him.

So Hikaku knows Tobirama is ignoring him for several minutes. As Tobirama is currently placing the most intricate seal Hikaku has ever seen on his own face, and doing it blindly, that’s more than reasonable.

Tobirama stops abruptly, his heel landing sharply on the stone. Hikaku doesn’t glimpse the handseal that pulls rain into a bubble over Tobirama. The bubble bursts and splashes over Tobirama’s face, blurring most of the seal and drawing the ink in distracting trails down his throat.

Hikaku sets that aside for later. “Difficulties with the seal?” he asks.

“Obviously,” Tobirama says shortly. He wipes some of the water off of his throat, smearing the sealwork there further.

Hikaku still doesn’t know whether Tobirama is aware of his own rudeness. He has learned that ignoring it is usually enough to end it. “Would a mirror help?”

Hikaku doesn’t have a mirror, and neither does Izuna. But they could probably work out something adequately reflective, if the seal is important.

“Hmm. Unlikely,” Tobirama decides. He unfolds from the rock he was sitting on and starts back toward the main cavern, and he’s still somehow taller than Hikaku remembers. “The seal is meant to be used in groups, applied to each other. The difficulty is in applying it backwards. Seeing it would likely be a distraction.”

Hikaku will never comprehend the Senju mind. “What sort of seal is it?”

Tobirama hums. It takes several seconds for him to answer, and they get close enough for Izuna’s voice to reach them, slightly distorted, singing a children’s training song. Several of the children have joined in, with a much larger range in skill than Hikaku expected children so old to have.

Mostly in the direction of less skill. Do other clans teach their children nothing except to fight?

“It is a snorkeling seal,” Tobirama says. “By drawing on the user’s chakra, it draws air from the surface into their lungs, and allows them to remain under water indefinitely.”

An incredibly useful seal, then. It would be a deeply concerning one as well, except that most of its uses are pointless in Fire Country. Fire Country has many streams and creeks, but even the Nakano, which is the largest river in the country, is only rarely deep enough for a person to truly hide in its depths. Mostly, a submerged shinobi would only look like a fool, trying to hide a few feet below the surface of clear water.

But in a place like Water Country, much less these Whirlpool islands… Hikaku is glad that the Uchiha so rarely venture outside of Fire Country.

Still, it gives him an idea. “If it is not given chakra, does it do anything?”

“No.”

“So it’s safe?”

The question earns a quick flick of Tobirama’s eyes in his direction, before they return to the tunnel ahead. “Children use it.”

“If you were to draw it on me, then,” Hikaku says, and even having concluded there would be no danger, his heart rate picks up, “Izuna could watch, and draw it on you.”

Tobirama pauses, a fractional delay in his steps as he glances in Hikaku’s direction again, this time longer, almost actually looking. But he shakes his head. “It is an Uzumaki seal.”

“I have not yet found a limit on the complexity of what the sharingan can copy,” Hikaku says.

“The Uzumaki are protective of their secrets.”

Ah. A different issue than Hikaku assumed. The Uzumaki are Senju allies, but it’s not a seal for war. “Is it that valuable? I can’t see it being used often in Fire Country. I’ve never seen a river or lake large enough to hide in.”

“Fire Country doesn’t have lakes; we only have ponds,” Tobirama says, as if reciting the opinion. “Every seal is valuable. If not for its own effect, then for what it will teach about sealing.”

“I see.”

Izuna stops singing the moment they reach the cavern, and most of the children break off after him, uncoordinated. Kagami continues alone, his voice clear until he finishes the verse.

“Izuna-san is teaching us Uchiha music!” [Uzukid] announces. Izuna’s face goes strained.

“Is it very similar to Uzumaki music?” Tobirama asks, apparently interested, which sets all the kids off. Uchiha music isn’t much like Uzumaki music at all; the [idk water bloodline] have some similar music but it’s not [waterkid]’s favorite; the Hyuuga have the same song, with only a few different words. Tobirama listens with solemn interest.

As soon as every child has shared their comparisons, Tobirama focuses on [Uzutween]. “[Uzutween], are you familiar with the snorkeling seal?”

She nods, looking slightly confused by the question.

“Good,” Tobirama says. “Come with me; I am going to use it to go fishing, and I am not able to apply it to myself.”

“Look! Abalone!”

[Uzukid] is grinning when Hikaku glances over, holding up a palm-length, brown shell with six holes in a line and oddly triangular spots. She, of course, is looking at Tobirama, who pauses in his demonstration of prying mussels off the rocks to seriously examine the shell she hands over.

“Very good,” Tobirama says, and hands the shell back to her. “Your family works with abalone, don’t they?”

“Yeah!”

Tobirama nods again, and turns to include the other children in his explanation. “We likely won’t find many abalone here, but they’re valuable and harmless, so collect any that you see. [Uzukid], would you like to explain how to identify them?”

“Yeah!”

The rest of the kids cluster around and [Uzukid] holds up the shell, pointing out the shape, colors, and shiny interior. The Uzumaki eat the snails, and make the shells into all kinds of jewelry and decoration.

Tobirama listens, but his eyes keep sliding away, scanning the pool and the area nearby. Izuna glances over, sharingan flicking on to catch the image of the abalone’s shell, and then goes back to hunting through a pool closer to the water. Hikaku listens while he keeps prying mussels off of stone and tossing them up the beach toward dry land.

The kids spread out again, now mostly ignoring the abundant mussels as they stick their faces in the water and peer under rocks in search of abalone. [Uzukid] turns rocks over a little more strategically, and keeps chattering. “An’ when you grind the shells up really good, you mix ‘em in with ink and make star seals! That’s what my family does, for the whole village!”

“What are star seals, [Uzukid]?” Tobirama asks.

“You’ve seen them! On the roofs!”

“I have, but not everyone here has,” Tobirama says. “Kagami, do you know what star seals are?”

“Not yet!” Kagami chirps.

“They’re sparkly! And bright!” [Uzukid] gestures, hands flying out in a burst of implied light. “We put ‘em on the edges of the roofs so the old shinobi don’t fall at night!”

[Uzukid]’s descriptions make it sound as if every day is a festival in Uzushio. It’s a shame, Hikaku thinks, that he won’t get to see it. But the Uzumaki have been the Senju’s allies almost as long as the Uchiha have been their enemies. Hikaku will no more be allowed to see Uzushio than Tobirama’s bedroom.

“What if they’re too bright?” Kagami asks.

“They’re not!” [Uzukid] declares indignantly. “They’re star seals, not… not sea-glare seals, or something!”

Kagami nods seriously.

“Seals that create a bright light as their primary effect are called flash seals,” Tobirama says.

“Yeah! They’re not flash seals!”

“But flash seals are one of the primary types of seal which Uchiha encounter,” Tobirama says. “So it’s reasonable for Kagami to think of them.”

“And fire seals,” Kagami adds.

“Explosive tags,” Tobirama corrects.

“Izuna-sama hates those,” Kagami shares. “He says fire’s ours so it’s not fair Senju can fake it without learning real jutsu.”

Tobirama smirks, a flicker at the corner of his mouth that vanishes before he raises his voice enough to make it carry. “Well, next time he says that, you may tell him that Senju use fire jutsu, too; he just hasn’t seen. And he should know better than to make assumptions like that.”

Kagami grins and nods. A few other children giggle.

Izuna looks thoroughly annoyed, but he turns away instead of saying anything. He’ll have plenty to say later, Hikaku is sure, once Tobirama and the kids are out of hearing, but for now he tosses his hair back and peers deliberately into the water.

“Are there lots of kinds of seals, Senju-sensei?” Kagami asks.

“More than I can list at once,” Tobirama says. “Seals are even more varied than jutsu, only less commonly used. Now, how many mussels have you found?”

The Uchiha are collectors of jutsu. Every jutsu that any Uchiha has seen since the beginning of the clan is recorded, both in written form and in memories passed down across the generations. Many of those jutsu are useless—there are dozens of campfire-lighting jutsu, invented by different clans in different countries and different generations, and the Uchiha only need one. But they are kept anyway, for any who want to study jutsu creation, or in case an Uchiha needs to disguise themselves as a member of another clan.

Among those jutsu are thousands that have no use at all in war. Jutsu to make food more flavorful, to shape wood and metal and stone with greater precision than a handheld tool, to send messages, to embellish dance, to amplify music or sensation. Most Uchiha learn a handful of them. Jutsu for singing and sex are the most popular, and those that are useful with various crafts. Hikaku has at least glanced through most sections of the library, looking for interesting options. Each recorded jutsu also records the source, and every Senju jutsu Hikaku has ever seen is for war. Hikaku used to be sure that meant the Senju simply didn’t know or use jutsu for anything other than battle, sabotage, and the like.

But once this season is over he’s going to have to go home and add an entire new section to the library for jutsu that heal. Not merely by shaping a needle out of a broken blade or pulling gravel out of wounds, but actively. It’s still technically for war, but it’s an entire category of jutsu that the Uchiha didn’t even know were possible, which the Senju seem to have been using for generations, the way Tobirama acted about it.

So maybe, being a Senju, Tobirama doesn’t know the full variety of uses jutsu can have. Or maybe the Senju are very good at keeping secrets, and seals can do things Hikaku hasn’t even imagined.

It really is a shame that he’ll never see the Uzumaki compound.

Hikaku pries the last mussel worth eating off the rocks, tosses it into the pile with the rest, and straightens. The children are enthusiastic, but very distracted by all the unfamiliar creatures in the pools, and Tobirama is similarly distracted by watching and teaching them all.

Hikaku and Izuna, then, will have to do most of the foraging. Which isn’t worrying, really; Hikaku is no longer concerned about starving while they’re trapped on this island. But he’d rather not eat every meal from the same single fish for a week again, nor would he like to see what bigger fish Tobirama could possibly find.

[this is followed by Hikaku picking up a blue ringed octopus, and Tobirama being Totally Rational And Calm And Not Panicking in response. As he always is, of course]

#typhoon island #not fic

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toujoursmiraculous · 3 years ago

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Thoughts and Reaction to SIMPLEMAN

A day late but that's what happens when good subs aren't out until the next day, and you're busy that day. This episode is so sweet and wholesome that it was worth it, for sure. I'm still not sure which one is Ella and which one is Etta. They're always addressed together so I just don't know, but I'd like to. ;-; (Note: Looked it up on Wikia, the one in pink with seafoam earrings is Etta, the one in seafoam and pink earrings is Ella) See Nino knows. Nino's concerned about Marinette babysitting three kids already. He lives with one all the time, times that by 4 and WOO that's crazy. Sweet of her to want to ensure her best friend has some time to relax with her boyfriend. Oh. OH those poor Kwami! Especially Fluff and her ears being pulled like a game of tug-of-war! I can see it now, Fluff now traumatized by young kids. So if Alix ever has any in the future, they better grow up knowing about Fluff right away or she's in for a horror show. PV TRAILER AND MUSIC! I'm such a fan of the music and the PV that when my sister told me about it, it made me even more excited for this episode than I already was. And I was very excited already! Manon: So? Aren't you going to answer it? She knows what's up. So Adrien's calling asking Marinette to help sew on a wing? Because nobody else there can do it? I dunno, sounds kind of sus to me, Adrien. Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse just to see your "friend"?

Marinette's biggest problem is thinking so far ahead in her brain that when she goes to speak, she's either way far ahead of herself or gets everything mixed up as it comes out of her mouth. If she just lived in the moment and didn't plan (which being Ladybug that's probably very hard not to do outside the costume), she'd be able to do this and overcome that fear of rejection as well. She seems to have that part fairly taken care though. When Gina said she was in China to learn Kung Fu and met a girl that reminded her of Marinette, instantly thought about Fei. How could it not be her? Rolland gets asked to babysit, immediately is like "Let's do something fun and dangerous!" Tom must have had an interesting childhood with Rolland and Gina. o.o Clearly Rolland doesn't realize who the heroes are based on. Or just completely forgot he met them when Bakerix. xD Adrien's so sweet with Marinette, even if he can't understand a single thing she says. That's adorable. But a really good way to thank her could've been "Would you stay and watch the photoshoot, and then maybe we could go do something fun/get something to eat after?" BOOM. Problems solved. But I have a feeling this may come back later, and maybe that would turn out better. Marinette's grandparents tend to give Hawk Moth/Shadowmoth the most sass and trouble in comparison to other Parisians. XD Rolland is so sweet to these kids, and they are so caring towards him. It's so wholesome! Just think: if that helicopter wasn't crashing behind her, she would've screamed she loved Adrien. So close. Simpleman is the chillest akuma. Being all "Hey kids, even though I'm akumatized, let's go out into the city!" and the kids are like "Yeah, okay. Hey let's get ice cream!"

Him protecting them from all the flying pizza boxes that guy was throwing around everywhere was super sweet too. LB and CN: Things are complicated. So we should find Shadow Moth directly. Let's run around the city screaming for him to come find us so we can fight him! I seriously think if Chat Noir or Ladybug brought up the fact that their identities made things complicated, they would've revealed themselves right then and there. LOL at the old school fighting and them behaving like young children xD "NO!" "I'm NaNa, ClaCla is no longer with NaNa! Paris is really messy! BuggyBug, KittyKity, help us!" Oh this is going to be so hilarious in the English dub with the voice actress who also voices Nathalie. XDDD A bouncy ball is very complicated for Ladybug. That a literal 5 year old can figure out. Wow this villain's power sure did a number on her. xD I find it all the more stressful actually, that Chat Noir and Ladybug can remember what they were doing the whole time they were affected by the akuma. That means if Marinette said she loved him, or they revealed their identities, there would be no going back or being able to make an excuse for it. Can we just talk about how those kids could understand that the reason he wants things to be simple and is upset that the world is so different, is because it scares him and he doesn't think he's capable of learning and changing with the world? A majority of adults these days can't even take two seconds to try to understand someone else's situation(s) before judging and being outright nasty people towards them. Yet these kids were able to do so. And a lot of kids actually are like they are in real life. Some may see this as an episode just for kids to appreciate, but there's a lot in here that's aimed at adults, too. Adults need reminders and these lessons just as much, if not more so than young kids. It's adults that lose their way and needed to be reminded of it, as they have a greater immediate impact on the world. I've seen so many people judge Rolland, make assumptions about him which is almost always the very worst things they could think of. But this episode shows how caring and willing to learn and understand he really is, he was just hiding behind his fear of change and not being able to keep up with it. Some lessons in this episode for the adult viewers are: -You're never too old to learn, get over your fears, try new things, become a better person, and see things through new eyes. -Don't over-complicate or overthink, but don't be lazy and think keeping everything simple will actually in reality be the answer, sometimes it can make things worse! -Kids tend to see the world as things are, not what they think it should be, or believing they're the center of the universe like adults tend to do. -Being wise means knowing that regardless of your field, educational background, age, or lived experiences, you don't know everything, there is always more for you to learn about everything out there. The kids in this show are quite wise, as they know that there is so much they don't know and how they treat learning new things. They also know how adults tend to understand, or act like they understand everything, so we as adults aren't used to it when we don't and react negatively to that because it scares us when we don't know. In that way, this episode was very brilliant! Also that hug at the end, oh you can bet these kids are going to want to go visit Grandpa Rolland, and honestly I'd love to see bits of them here and there, their bonds are adorable and they've changed his life in such a positive way. Also the pure Ladynoir without another hero or Alya or any kind of upsetting situation was honestly such a breath of fresh air! Maybe not the kind of Ladynoir people wanted, but it made me happy. Marinette acknowledged her problem is she's scared of Adrien rejecting her. First step is admitting it! Can't blame her for not being able to do what she wanted, she only just realized the issue after all. It's going to take a little time now to work on it! Is it just me, or

does it seem Adrien's almost trying not to laugh when she was messing up and then asked if he liked fishing? XD Maybe it was the actors tone with the facial expression but it seemed that way! But the way he just watches her run away and does that adorable little chuckle... Oh Adrien, we really need you to start realizing why you keep doing that. "She (Ladybug) reminds me of your grandmother and you know what? You look exactly like her (Ladybug)." Well. Oop. He's onto you! Apparently Rolland isn't blind, as not a single character suspected her from her personality or appearance to be Ladybug so far. Even Adrien only began piecing it together due to circumstances (and his own personal wish that Marinette is LB, you can't convince me otherwise this isn't true). This is going to come back later, possibly Dearest Family? Overall such a good episode with a lot of things in it, if you decide to watch without high expectations or biases. After all the angst lately, it was certainly needed as a nice change of pace.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #simpleman #simpleman spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #rolland dupain #chris lahiffe #ella cesaire #etta cesaire #manon chamack #toujoursmiraculous' thoughts and reactions #thoughts and reactions

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cute-little-spaceboy · 4 years ago

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♤ Bunny Hybrid! Tadashi Yamaguchi x GN! Reader ♤ Fantasy AU ♤ Pure Fluff ♤ No idea how I got roped into this, but it's for @ultimate-astridwriting's Hybrids collab. ♤ This is long as hell, I'm sorry if it's boring, I tried my best. ♤ 2431 words guys...

<♤>

The Night was young, stars just barely peeking out of the sky. An almost bluish sliver of the sun could still be seen right where the horizon lay. When the entirety of the village was just starting to turn in for the night, the ancient spirits, the Yōkai, were coming out. The first ones out were always the more predatory of the group. The foxes, wolves, bears, etc. They were the brave ones, and almost always came out first, at the same time the stars began appearing. Although they were the first to leave their dens and holes, they mostly prowled around, looking for any last traces of people that had stayed out late. Next were the insects and birds. Bird Yōkai being more impatient than others, and simply unable to wait for the all clear from the predators. They began chartering and singing amongst themselves, flying from tree to tree without a care in the world. Meanwhile the insects sat near the edges of the trees, murmuring to each other. Finally, the timid prey animals came out (Only with the confirmation from the Predators that it was indeed safe). The rabbits, mice, squirrels and such. They would come out slowly, still unsure of their surroundings. Once they deemed it truly safe, they would party just as carefree as any bird or fox. The kingdom they lived by was a small one. The village was tiny enough that everyone knew everyone and almost all of them were related, or friends. The castle was more of a mansion or extra large house. And all around the village, there was a ring of meadowy area, and then forests for miles. Forests filled with Yōkai, that is. The relationship between the kingdom and the Spirits was… Complicated to say the least. The Kingdom had said they were on "Neutral terms" years ago, but what really ended up happening was, the two sides avoided and feared each other. No one really knew why, but they feared great consequences if they interacted with each other. So the Humans in the village spent the day enjoying themselves, and the Yōkai came out at night, after they went home. The meadow was sort of like a barrier to the two, no human or Yōkai was brave enough to go there… Well, not most anyways. You had to be either brave or stupid to go anywhere near there. Tadashi Yamaguchi was neither brave, nor stupid, he was simply lovestruck. He couldn't stay in the forest with the rest of the Yōkai, not when he knew you were there. Out sitting in the meadows, staring up at the vast expanse of the skies. You were just as bad as he was, that's how he justified it. If you could go out, then so could he. Neither of you were hurting anything, you were watching stars and he was watching you. He was almost certain that you didn't see him. The grass in the meadows was tall, almost knee length. So he would crouch down and watch you. It may have been a little creepy, but he couldn't help it. You were simply captivating to him. You weren't doing anything, just sitting there. You had a lantern with you, you always did. It wasn't a bright light, casting only a faint golden light on your face. He couldn't see much, but what he could see, he adored. You looked so… Delicately made. As if every individual part of you was carefully crafted and selected from the best that the heavens had to offer. You were a deity, and he was a simple demon. He had seen a glimpse of heaven itself and now he knew it was clearly meant to be. His long, floppy ears perked up when he saw your familiar form, kneeling on the soft grass. Cotton tail wiggling with excitement. He could sit there for hours, imagining what you were like. What did you like doing? You obviously loved the stars, maybe you liked nature? If you liked nature, maybe you would like him? Maybe you were waiting for someone else? He didn't like that thought. Shaking his head, ears flopping against his face. As if he could erase the thought from his head. It was ridiculous to be this possessive over something that wasn't his, but what else could he do? You were the forbidden fruit, and he wasn't willing to let anyone else take away his beautiful

temptation. He crept closer, he didn't normally get closer than eight feet away, but he felt more confident today. It wasn't really confidence so much as desperation to get closer to you. He couldn't just sit and stare at you forever. It would drive him mad. Scooting closer as quietly as possible, the grass made a rustling sound underneath him but you didn't seem to notice. He was four feet away now, you were still clueless, and he still wanted more. So he crept closer until he was three feet… Two feet… One foot… Right behind you… It was beyond him how you hadn't noticed him. If he leaned forward, he would be pressed against your back. He could smell your natural scent, grass, flowers, and the faintest hint of general store soap. The grass and flowers were probably thanks to the meadow, but he almost melted. He was right there, right next to you. He could easily imagine that he wasn't here, stalking you, but that you were meeting in secret. That the two of you were forbidden lovers, that he was embracing you, not hiding behind you. He knew that he had gone too far, this was a major invasion of privacy and inappropriate to sneak behind someone without them knowing. But he was practically lovedrunk being this close to you, and he couldn't think of anything other than you. Would it really hurt if you knew he was there? You were already in the meadows, so you had to know that there were creatures that could be out there. It was really your fault for coming out here, he wasn't going to hurt you. He just had to hold your hand, if only for a second. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he threw caution to the wind, slipping his hand into yours. Never once thinking about how bad things were about to get. You jerked your hand away, shrieking and scrambling to your feet, whirling around to see what had touched your hand. The lantern was knocked to the ground and Tadashi's face was illuminated. He froze like a deer in headlights, his terror filled eyes never left yours. Your hands were brought up to your chest as you stared at the rabbit hybrid, equally afraid. Was he trying to hurt you? Hunt you? He was a rabbit, last you checked, those didn't eat people. But he was also a Yōkai, which meant you knew almost nothing about what he would actually do. He felt paralyzed, the only thoughts in his mind were "What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?". When you took a step towards him, his fight or flight instinct kicked in… They chose flight. He bolted from his spot, bounding for the forest. You stared as he didn't bother looking back, too scared to stop running until he was safely back in his He cursed himself for being so reckless, getting so close to you. He had completely thrown logic and possible safety to the side just to touch some stranger he could barely see. What kind of lovesick child was he? "You went out there again, didn't you?" The almost scolding voice of his friend, Kei Tsukishima, called from outside the den. Tadashi peeked his head out of the entrance, nose trembling from the dramatic situation. "I couldn't help it, Tsukki, they just…" ""Captivate You"?" Kei said, rolling his eyes. His fluffy orange tail swishing behind him. "That's what you said, isn't it? Every time you describe them, it's always the same thing." "I know, but… I can't really describe them beyond that. I know it doesn't make much sense, but I just know!" Tadashi protested. "Know what? Know that they wouldn't take the opportunity to kill you on the spot?" "Oh come on Tsukki, you know we get along just fine, they wouldn't shoot me." "Sure. Come back and explain it to me when you've actually talked to them and lived to tell the tale." Kei scoffed, turning and stalking back into the trees. "I almost got caught… Tsukki is right." Tadashi frowned, it was common sense that you didn't fall in love before a real first sight. But common sense wasn't making sense anymore, so anything was possible at this point. Even getting a complete stranger's affection, right? "This is stupid…" Tadashi muttered to

himself as he crept out of the treeline. He had no idea if he would see you again, but curiosity had gotten the best of him and he wasn't going to give up the chance to see you again. Tsukki could advise him against it all he wanted, Tadashi was a firm believer in love at first sight. (No matter how one sided this was) There you were, sitting in your usual spot. He hadn't scared you off after all, he felt relieved. But only slightly, he still had to muster the courage to try and talk to you. After all, you already knew he existed, so now he only had to make you just as in love with him as he was with you. Easy Peasy… Something odd that he noticed, was that you weren't looking up at the sky like you usually were. You were staring straight at the border of trees that lined the forest. Almost as if you were expecting something to come out. It was a little off putting, that was for sure. Were you looking for him? Was that a good thing, and you wanted to talk to him? Or did you have a hidden weapon? Okay… Maybe no hidden weaponry, no way you were that kind of person. Nobody who came out to look at stars would kill some demon they barely met, right? "Here we go…" He whispered to himself, standing upright in the tall grass to walk over before his confidence disappeared. "Or… Maybe not." He crouched in the grass again, opting to crawl instead of walk. Maybe it was because he could still back out, or maybe it was because it might make him seem friendlier. Either way, staying hidden until he absolutely had to come out, was far easier. When he had gotten close again, he didn't want to come out of hiding. He wanted to get your attention, but he didn't want you to see him. His prey instincts were kicking in and he was regretting his choice to confront you. "Hello?" You spoke… You had actually spoken. Out loud. To him? He didn't know that. "I know you're here. I saw you yesterday, and… I assume you're back now?" Were you just saying that? Or did you actually know he was here. You could have been bluffing, sure. But he had to say something eventually. So he may as well get it out now. "Yes. I'm back." His voice was quiet, but everything else was quieter, so he knew you had heard him. "I knew it." You had been bluffing… Your voice sounded too surprised to get a response. Had you been talking like that for the last hour? "How long have you been watching me?" Tadashi felt awkward now, he couldn't lie to you and say it was the first time. But he couldn't just tell you that he had been stalking you for months now. "A while then?" "No! Of course not!" He protested. "Then how long?" "Only a few months. That's all." He tried to make it sound better than it actually was. "A few months? Why? What were you even doing? Are you some kind of stalker?" "No! I'm not a stalker, I swear! I was only watching the stars with you. I… I like it here too, and when I saw you, I guess I got excited that someone else liked it too." That wasn't entirely untrue. There was silence, and he felt uncomfortable again. Had you somehow seen through his half-lie? Looking up, he saw the faint light of a lantern and your face. You were standing over him, looking down with what could have been amusement. "Y'know you could've just asked, right? I'm not gonna hurt you." You crouched next to him and he could fully see your face from here. His cheeks heated up when you set the lantern in between the two of you. "Sorry, I guess I was too scared." He muttered, staring at his feet and fidgeting with some blades of grass. "Of what?" "You… I know humans and Yōkai technically "Get Along" but everyone's still afraid of each other and I didn't really know you, and I didn't want you to think I was a creeper or anything and-" You placed a finger to his lips, interrupting his ramble. "Well you don't have to be afraid of me now. I already told you, I won't hurt you. And honestly, I was probably intruding on your stargazing place. This Meadow is more a part of the forest than part of the village. If anything, I'm the

creep." "No way! It's an in between space, you're not intruding, I promise!" He reassured, he didn't want you feeling unwelcome. "You're sure?" "Definitely! You're just as welcome to come here as I am." "Good to know someone else loves this place like I do." You smiled at the happy Yōkai. Truth be told, you knew he had been watching you for a while. You simply acted as if you didn't see him because you knew how jumpy Yōkai were. You didn't want to scare him off, so you simply ignored him. And when he had actually started talking to you, you knew full well why he was watching you. It was painfully obvious how obsessed he was with you. But for now, you would humor him. You had waited for him to talk to you, you could wait for him to confess his true intentions.

As for how you felt? You weren't entirely sure how to feel. But seeing as he wasn't very good at confessing anything, you had plenty of time to think that over. For now, you had someone to talk to, and that was good enough.

#Well aware this ending is shit...#Look #I TRIED #I dont write with other people's characters #Whatever #Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader #Fluff #Hybrid collab #Haikyuu fluff #AU

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hollandsrecs · 4 years ago

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completed series masterlist (1)

links last checked 16/12/2020 | more masterlists here

2 hearts, 22 calibers by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: despite discovering the new owner of the club you work at may have his own secrets hidden, the temptation to get closer to him outweighs your trepidation...

12 days of christmas by keepingupwiththeparkers

24 hour, long lasting by madmadmilk

summary: a clumsy you, a tube of long lasting lipstick, a small case of stumbling, a stain, and a boy you never imagined to meet.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

against the agenda by cosmetologynerd

summary: he was tom holland; love was not on the agenda.

all of the lights by spiderboytherescue

always, yours by angelicholland

summary: you always knew you loved your best friend but you figured that he would never feel the same way, so you set those useless feelings aside. how will you cope when you find a box of letters that tells you otherwise? is it too late to let go of the butterflies trapped deep within you? would he even feel the same way anymore?

apartment 509 by sweetlysilent

summary: tom brings girls home almost daily, something that bothers you to the end of the world; whereas on the other hand you rarely go out, spending majority of your time focused on your studies, something that drives tom insane, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker, even more when he finds out you have a study date.

attachment by hazinhoodies

summary: maybe you held on a little too tight. you were only trying to salvage the most important relationship of your life.

beneath the waves by cosmetologynerd

summary: “please, i wish to be free.”

black beauty by blissfulparker

summary: tom, the king of hell, has no time for love or any woman in his life. he spends his days finding new punishments for the people who deserve it. you, spend your days in heaven making everyone happy. never wanting a soul to feel down. what happens when heaven decides to send you down to join tom in hell? why would they send their best angel to the devil himself?

born king by spiderboytotherescue

breaking curfew by wazzupmrstark

summary: when you got the job to be a counsellor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. but you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. in fact, you thought you’d never have to see tom holland again. but he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. if you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? what kind of asshole would do something like that?

clear by peeterparkr

summary: y/n is in town for summer, she wants the sea to wash away the pains of the past, however when a certain surfer comes into her life, the remaining salt might not decant, but maybe some sweet surprises might come to shore

complications by loserparker

summary: being roommates with tom was easy, fun. that is until feelings started getting involved. throw in the fact that both of you suck at communication and things are bound to get complicated.

contrapposto by madmadmilk

summary: you desperately needed a figure model for your upcoming art final and you find a friend willing to pose for you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

dare you to move by starksparker

summary: friends with benefits is supposed to be just that. friends with the benefits of fooling around and not having anything more than platonic feelings. easy, fun, thrilling, no one gets hurt…right?

determined by blesshimnorris

summary: you are enjoying university life with your fellow housemates, except for tom, who seems to avoid or tease you every chance he gets. but with your birthday slowly approaching he finally tries to make amends.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

dine and dash by blissfulparker

summary: tom comes into your diner every tuesday and thursday, it is no secret that he only goes for you. when will he ever be brave enough to say something, when will you ever be brave enough to let him in?

eighteen by angelicholland

summary: y/n is tom’s math tutor and needed a date for sunday dinner. tom has tattoos all over and just looks like the type of guy who would piss off her parents. will their fake relationship turn into something so much more?

eloped by worldoftom

summary: you and tom have been in a secret relationship for a long time, but what would you do if tom proposed unexpectedly during your vacation in casablanca, morocco?

every step of the way by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are best friends, and you have been for as long as you can remember. after one night, everything changes. but, tom is by your side every step of the way.

ex on the beach by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: eight months after your ugly breakup with tom, you find yourself stuck together for two whole weeks at a private beach house. just you, tom, some mutual friends, what could possibly go wrong?

for king or country by avengers-sweethearts

summary: from the time you were a child you always lived in the castle. your mother and father were both servants and even after they died you stayed on as one yourself. prince yom was always someone you admired from afar. he was the nicest out of all the holland royalty and incredibly handsome. along the way of your daily duties the prince begins to pay you more attention when you save him from an awkward situation. things get more complicated when his jealous betrothed princess zendaya comes to court and stirs up trouble for the forbidden romance. will prince tom follow his heart or stay true to his country? most importantly of all, will you even make it out alive?

forbidden rose by avengers-sweethearts

summary: if there was one person who knew how to throw a party, it was tom holland. in 1922 partying wasn’t uncommon, but a tom holland party was like none ever seen before. the young billionaire thrived off of rumors and speculation. despite the parties being held weekly, no one had ever seen the mystery man. tom intended to keep it that way until one night an enchanting woman caught his eye. but what happens when her cruel fiancé is tangled up with demons from his past. will their love be enough to overcome the trouble that lies ahead?

forever by starksparker

summary: what happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who’s his opposite? and what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?

ground rules by madmadmilk

summary: you just love holding someone, and being held. It’s not a hard thing to ask for, but it sure can be hard for someone to understand.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

happiness is a butterfly by blissfulparker

summary: you and tom spend your whole lives looking for your soulmates. how could you not see that you two were right under each other’s noses both coming from a mob family?

heart eyes by madmadmilk

summary: tom holland is a friend that you only see once or twice a year, but when the stars align and you finally start to get close to him again you realize that… you’ve never really known each other at all. he has an emoji tailing after every contact on his phone… but none for you. hm. a soft and bumbling story about how you get to know him, and how he gets to know you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

heartbreak weather by t-holland2080

summary: after getting out of a rough relationship, you meet tom, who pulls you out of your heartbreak weather.

heavenly yours by tomsrebeleyebrow

summary: angels live in a perfect world. in a complete ivory tower. but loving someone else is forbidden. a true sin.

hostility by starsholland

summary: everything was going well in your life, living in LA, trying to make it big as a journalist, but all of that is foiled when tom holland walks into your life bringing drama and negativity. how much will you be able to take before you finally lose it?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

hotlanta by hollandorks

summary: a fun night in atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity tom holland in order to save both of their careers.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

how to unlove someone by whatevsholland

i only feel you by stuckonspidey

summary: a world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. y/n has given up on finding her soulmate, given up on trying to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him. her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

kiss currency by madmadmilk

summary: swapping underwear with your best friend’s best friend, while maintaining your cool composure. he’s cute, he’s funny, and you’d be down to kiss him at least once. :)

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3

lacuna by thollandss

summary: being friends with benefits with a celebrity isn’t easy. nobody said it was.

limits of desire by peeterparkr

summary: you met tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize how you really feel.

london boy by tonguetiedholland

summary: you’re a famous singer and actor whose break up with ex boyfriend, shawn mendes, has just hit the media. when it all feels a bit too much you do the only reasonable thing you can think of, escape to london and lay low for a little while. who knew that tom holland, the boy you’d only met once but had you in the palm of his hand when you did and vice verse, would also be in london at the same exact time?

lucky number by tomhollanders2013

summary: what happens when one of the world’s most famous celebrities accidentally dials your number instead of his new assistant’s... is it a happy accident or a recipe for disaster?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

miss yer kiss by angelicholland

summary: a one-night stand turned something more, you and tom meet again against the odds. an aspiring tattoo artist and a famous actor with “i miss you” on the tip of your tongues meet again and again as you slowly realize what love looks like.

model for me by thollandss

summary: in which you are a photographer for GQ, and during a private session with tom holland, you find yourself getting to know him very well.

money can’t buy you love by hilllsnholland

summary: y/n has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. nothing can stop her, right? maybe tom holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘scholarship baby’.

more than i know by lauras-collection

summary: you need a date for your sister’s wedding and the stranger in the coffee shop seems to be the perfect choice. until you see pictures of yourself and him all over the internet because apparently he’s an international movie star and now the whole world thinks you’re dating. and you have to give the people what they want, right? even if it’s fake.

naughty or nice by avengers-sweethearts

summary: the holidays are the worst time to be alone, especially in a brand new city with a brand new job. when an unexpected meeting with famous actor tom holland ends in the exchanging of phone numbers you find yourself in the dangerous position of falling in love with hollywood’s hottest and most eligible bachelor. unable to help yourself, you being to fall for the handsome actor and will do almost anything to earn his affection. trying to balance work, love, and the holiday proves to be more of a challenge than you had initially thought. the million-dollar question is what side of tom’s christmas list will you end up on: naughty or nice?

of broken promises and heartbreak by softspiderling

summary: it’s been six years since you and tom broke up, six years since you’ve last seen each other. a lot has happened, tom got insanely famous, making countless billion dollar movies, attending one red-carpet event after the other. but now he was attending one event, he wasn’t sure he was ready for. your wedding. and he wasn’t attending as your groom.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

paint the grass green by lauras-collection

summary: a complicated relationship ends when tom breaks up with you after a fight. but it’s about to get more complicated. because how are you going to tell him that you’re pregnant if he won’t let you talk to him? so you don’t. years later you run into harrison, and there’s no denying that it’s tom’s son who’s tightly holding onto your hand. harrison gives you an ultimatum: either you tell tom, or he will.

peppermint by hollandandi

perfidy by peeterparkr

summary: tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. however you happened to be best friends with the twins. when one of your friends challenged you to break tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

philanthropy by museinmind

summary: things seemed to be going too well in your life when you became your sorority’s president. so of course something has to go sideways somehow, and you end up having to take a chemistry class if you want to graduate next year. so what better person to tutor you than tom, the frat ultra hot boy who hides the fact he has textbooks nearly memorized?

pinky promises by sunshinehollandd

summary: being a single dad to a four-year-old isn’t easy, but tom figures out a way to make it work with the help of his best friend.

season of reunions by unbelievableholland

summary: you were adopted by 2 mysterious agents. you knew you were adopted and you never thought about your original family. being content with the life your parents gave you, why would you? that was, until your parents are killed and you’re left to fend for yourself and with a lot of questions unanswered.

seeing the thing by angelicholland

summary: you’re stage-managing your school’s spring show, almost, maine when you’re taken out of your element by a cocky boy with a dazzling smile and a way to your heart that makes you hate him before you can see the thing.

sincerely, by whatevsholland

summary: you and tom were childhood best friends. but when he started dating the girl who got everything you ever wanted, it began a falling out between you and tom. now he’s back home in london, just in time for your sister to host her engagement party.

single all the way by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: when tom finds out he has to go home for christmas, he decides to formulate plan so he doesn’t have to run into his ex alone. you.

soulmate by spiderboytotherescue

summary: sometimes finding your soulmate doesn’t always happen where you expect it too. and sometimes, you’re just not ready to fall head over heels in love just yet.

sweetener by keepingupwiththeparkers

summary: okay, so maybe lecture hall proximity and roast calibre weren’t the only reasons for your frequent visits to this particular coffee shop. maybe there was a certain brown eyed brunette who worked there, and maybe he always gave you two stamps on your loyalty card instead of one, and maybe you liked watching his back muscles shift under his stupidly tight t-shirt while he pumped sweet vanilla syrup into your cup. maybe.

take me out by angelicholland

summary: you killed people, people who deserved it, but you killed people and that was your reality. killing is a job for one person. add another and it gets messy. things don’t happen by chance, not in your line of work. you held people’s lives in your hands and made the active decision to end them. what happens when you team up with a gorgeous man with a charming british accent to take out a prolific user of a sex trafficking website? but it was not by chance that you fell in love with him, it was the worst decision you could’ve ever made.

the fame game by duskholland

summary: there’s just something about tom holland that makes your blood boil. he walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. you can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. everything changes following an explosive evening at the oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR. the only way to save your shattered public image is to agree to the unthinkable: tom will be your boyfriend, and you will be his girlfriend - and this might just be your hardest performance to date.

the jar series by libertybarnes

summary: tom holland, notorious mob boss, meets a single mother and her bubbly child and has to learn to live life with something to lose.

the king by sadchappuccino

summary: y/n is an angel who fell from heaven, tom is the king of hell. will they put that aside and fall in love?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

the missing piece by avengers-sweethearts

summary: when you graduated with an elementary education degree you were lost. you thought you wanted to be a teacher but you weren’t entirely sure if it would make you happy. as you’re in between jobs, you’re lucky enough to stumble upon the opportunity to be a nanny for the very rich and very handsome single father, tom holland. tom is busy running a company and he doesn’t want his daughter ella to be alone or sent to a daycare. things get crazy when you move in with the little family. between some secrets about alla and the undeniable attraction between you and tom you’re not sure what your role is to this family. do you keep it professional or do you risk it all and take the chance of falling for tom? only time will tell if you’re the missing piece.

the situationship by fairytelling

summary: a cup of tea can solve just about any problem. except, it can’t solve your confusing, headache-inducing ‘situationship’ with your university flatmate, tom holland.

to new beginnings by petersshirts

summary: it’s time to settle down and when your best friend asks you to have a child with him, how could you say no?

two lies and a truth by lauras-collection

summary: you wanted a fresh start. and uni seemed like the perfect opportunity. until you bump into tom. he says he’s sorry for everything he’s done to you. but can you trust him?

untitled by marvelbws

summary: suits, smirks, and a major sex appeal.

vlogs by spideyyeet

summary: being in the vlog squad was dope af but having david dobrik run into tom holland and getting him to surprise you was a whole other thing. now let’s see what’s it like to have tom meet the vlog squad and be with the girl that’s making him rethink some decisions.

we’re only kidding ourselves by wazzupmrstark

summary: you work as a production assistant for the spider-man: far from home crew, or rather as tom holland’s handler. the two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

wicked games by captainmarvels

summary: in which tom holland, overwhelmed by his personal demons, seeks comfort in the only ways he knows how; spending money and rough fucking. the hotheaded ceo with major daddy issues can’t seem to get it quite right when it comes to you, but is there hope for his heart?

with love, tom by thollandss

summary: when an envelope addressed to tom makes its way into your mailbox, you realize he has enlisted in the army. your walls begin to crumble down at the idea of him leaving you like this. alone for eight weeks. he makes a promise to you, a promise that every week he is gone, he will send you an update letter... but soon enough, you start to not receive them.

yellow roses by grussell63

summary: tom’s mother has him participate in a bachelor-like dating competition, because she is tired of him sleeping around. furthermore she decides to bring in his best friend to spy on the contestants. is tom going to find the one amongst the 12 candidates or is he just going to play his little games?

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | EPILOGUE

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland fic rec #masterlists #series masterlist

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lilbabycee · 4 years ago

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tidal // steve rogers 🌊

↳ summary: tony doesn’t trust his kid and steve has to play mediator, although those duties don’t come without a reward

↳ relationship: dad’s best friend!steve rogers x stark!reader

↳ request: steve defending his soft girl when she starts crying when someone yelled at her...maybe she thanks him by putting her mouth to good use @donutloverxo + what about dad’sbestfriend!steve x reader?...I need me some Steve please!! (anon)

↳ word count: 5.4k (this has no business being this long)

↳ warnings: angst, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation, some light fluff kinda

↳ author’s note: i do love a stark!reader so this was so much fun for me - enjoy my loves! x

The relationship that you have with your father is complicated. It reminds you acutely of the foamy sea that you used to tentatively wade in and simply stare at with a wide-eyed, childlike fascination when your parents took you to the Maldives or Seychelles or Ivory Coast, each summer a different place and a different tide. There’s a sense of predictability to it, a routine you have in a language that is understandable to nobody but the two of you. He pushes and you pull, coordinating your movements in a choreographed dance so as to safely row your canoe filled to the brim with trust and love through the rocky seas of life.

He’s made a mark on you that will always be a permanent imprint on your soul much like the way that water stains the surface of the sand but it’s not as if you perceive that as something negative. You attribute the best parts of yourself to your mother and father and although their DNA isn’t housed inside your body, you’re more Tony’s child than he could have ever asked for. He hears so much of him in the tone of your voice and sees Pepper whenever you cross your arms over your chest and pin him with a look he knows too well - her influence is all over your mannerisms - and the both of them in the charming brightness of your smile when you let yourself laugh freely.

The moment he saw you, barely hours old and sleeping deeply - something that he found out that you would carry with you throughout your years - he’d thought you were cute (all babies are cute and the hundreds of other babies he’d seen in the past few weeks were also cute). But when you’d instinctively gripped Pepper’s finger tightly in your impossibly tiny fist and blinked awake sleepily, he’d fallen in love with your pretty eyes first, the way that you stared through him like you already knew him and it was then that he knew you were his as much as he was yours.

Of course, things weren’t- aren’t always as picture-perfect as they seem. He knows that there are days when you haunt his nightmares, dreams where he can’t protect you plaguing his conscience and causing him to crowd you with what he thinks is love. Rather, it’s an overbearing and often patronizing kind of attention that feels like a thousand sharp needles piercing through your skin. You’re very in touch with your emotions, a quality about you that Tony is sure that you must’ve learned from your mother, while he has the tendency to avoid sentimentality like it’s a disease and that’s where those arguments start, the ones that flare up and spread like forest fires.

In fact, you’re having one of them now. Tony knew how this was going to end before it even began but he can’t help but always engage because he’s as stubborn as he raised you to be. His jaw is set and his nostrils flaring as he stares at you - you’re his progeny, his baby, half of his heart who is standing in that way that reminds him of his wife with crystals in your eyes that make him wonder if you ever wear that diamond necklace he bought you last year.

“You never take me seriously,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him which causes a fat teardrop to spill over and run down your cheek. His eyes soften briefly at the sight of your emotional state before he looks away, the painful tugging at his heart trying to pull him towards you. He won’t give in to it: that’ll mean you win. “See - you can’t even look at me, Dad-”

“Sweetheart, I take you plenty seriously,” Tony gnaws on the end of the pen in his mouth, still sitting in front of the holograms of all of the data he’s been trying to process for the past few hours. His feet are propped up on the table, casually crossed at the ankles and shoulders completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair and balancing precariously one of the wheels, sitting in the exact same way that he always told you not to. He taps out a rhythmic beat against his leg with his fingers, eyes darting around the room as he pretends to be interested in everything but you.

His entire posture radiates the feeling that he doesn’t give a shit about you or what you have to say and it makes your heart sink to your stomach despite the fact that you know this man. You know that he’s just putting on a front and he’s really listening because he was the one who drilled into your head that you always have something to say that’s worth listening to. Yet you cannot for the life of you accept that this man in front of you is acting so coldly when his own daughter is trying to tell him how she feels.

The scoff that comes out of your mouth is involuntary and Tony can’t fight the twitch of his lips because it sounds so much like him, but he only lets it linger for half a second, not allowing you to see how affected he is. Both him and Pepper were under the impression that once they had kids, Tony would finally take the steps towards being willing to share more of himself with the people around him. And he did, for a while. But once you hit those teenage years, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t be his baby forever - you’d grow up and think your own thoughts and breathe your own air in an environment that he hasn’t polluted with his own ideals.

His heart beat out of his chest every time he thought about it and he had to face the facts: he was scared. And so he went on the defensive, coddling you and trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world that he had to face from such a young age. Unfortunately for the both of you, you didn’t appreciate being spoon-fed by your parents your whole life: you have a sense of maturity and independence that Tony is terrified of and it manifested itself in rebellion, a phase in your adolescence hat had almost gotten cost you your life in more situations than he cared to admit.

“I’m not kidding, Dad,” you reply, your head feeling as if it’s under construction because the unbearably loud banging on the inside of your brain is driving you crazy because he’s deflecting and you know it. A river of tears slide their way down to your chin and you don’t even bother to wipe them. “And you keep making jokes like this isn’t serious-”

“I haven’t been making jokes,” Tony points out calmly, playing around with a bunch of numbers that don’t mean anything to you and distractedly manoeuvering some stupid data table that is somehow more interesting than his own child.

As much as you try, you genuinely can’t help it when you stomp your foot, the loud noise breaking through Tony’s nonchalance and causing him to arch an eyebrow at you.

“This isn’t some temper tantrum, Dad,” you tell him, the strength in your voice breaking down and causing it to crack. Your hands come up to clutch your head tightly in a futile attempt to bring yourself back to Earth, tired of the way that your emotions throw your brain into orbit. Your feet are on the ground but it doesn’t feel like it, your rage burning your skin and setting a bonfire in the depths of your body. “You fight me on everything - first it was college then it was working for S.I then it was becoming an Avenger… you think I’m still some little kid-”

“Because you’ve proven time after time that you can’t fend for yourself,” Tony cocks his head as your eyes lock, daring you to challenge him on his statement because the two of you know how much validity it holds.

“That was one time!-”

Tony sighs, shaking his head in what you assume is disappointment and while in any other scenario your heart would’ve sunk, this time it stays where it’s been for the past ten minutes, perishing in the flames licking the sides of your stomach. He gathers some of his papers and tucks the pen in his mouth behind his ear before he starts to make his way to the door, leaving you to stare at his back as his hand drops on the handle and he addresses you again. “One time that you could’ve gotten killed, Y/N, so we’re not doing this today-”

“You know what, Tony?”

You’ve never called him that before - not even when you’re in large crowds and everyone seems to be yelling Dad! - and you know it’s vindictive and a step too far but it’s exhausting being treated like a helpless child. This has the desired effect, freezing him in his tracks and as he turns on his heel, you know that you may have crossed a line but you can’t bring yourself to care because your fury has consumed your whole body and the heat is boiling the blood running through your veins.

“What did you just call me?”

“Anthony,” you inform him matter-of-factly, hands on your hips while the hardness of his eyes halts your racing blood flow, the iciness freezing your bones while hot rage seeps out of every single one of his pores so palpably that you can almost see the steam spilling out of his ears. “You can fuck right off until you decide that I can be trusted enough to make decisions for myself and you know what else? You can-”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on in here?”

You bite back your next words as soon as that rich timbre caresses your ears and the rigid posture of your body begins to slowly melt at the sound. You don’t even have to look behind you to know that it’s your dad’s best friend - ever the hero - coming to diffuse the ticking time bomb that is this argument between you and your father.

“This isn’t your battle to fight, Rogers,” Tony doesn’t peel his eyes off of you at all, not even sparing his friend a glance.

And as much as you don’t like Tony at the moment, you can’t help but agree with him.

“Steve, he’s right,” you tear your eyes away from your dad, turning around so that you can glance over at the golden man whose presence alone has wrapped you in a comforting safety blanket that already makes you want to stand down.

“No, neither of you are,” his blond hair is pushed back away from his face and you’re momentarily distracted by the hard lines of his jaw and the thick beard that covers them. He’s speaking in that same low voice that he uses to rally the Avengers when he’s clad in red, white, and blue, and you have to discreetly squeeze your thighs together at the sound.

The rational part of your brain knows that this is not the time to be ogling your dad’s best friend but you can’t help the way that your heart starts beating double time when he enters a room and how his warm gaze sets your entire body alight, not unlike the way that your unbridled anger is making you feel right now; the only difference is that Steve triggers a deep desire for something unknown tucked away so secretly that it only awakened when you met him.

But you know he’d never do that to Tony - shit, you don’t know if he’s still holding a candle for a love once lost all those years ago and frankly, you don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself by feeling the poison sting of rejection dealt from the sickeningly sweet lips of America’s apple pie. The lethal mix of sugar and malice would only rot your heart and you don’t know that you could survive the decay.

“In fact, both of you are acting like children,” he booms, his hands landing on his hips while he shakes his head disbelievingly at your familial dispute. Steve opens his mouth as if he’s about to continue, but Tony simply holds a hand up and it almost immediately shushes the supersoldier.

“No need, Capiscle,” Tony cocks his head to the side almost mockingly, his eyes still glued resolutely on your wet face. “I just wanna say this: if you are going to be so ungrateful of everything that your mother and I have sacrificed for you, then you can get the fuck out of my house. You have no idea what we’ve had to go through just so that you can live a safe, healthy lifestyle in which you don’t have to want for anything. The fact that you have the audacity to speak to me like that is a testament to how much we’ve failed as parents because you are the fruit of all of our labor: a spoiled little brat with no conception of the real world because everything revolves around you, doesn’t it princess?”

He spits the endearment out and you can only assume that it is because it has left as bitter a taste in his mouth as it has yours. Throughout his heated rant, your hands started shaking and at first, you couldn’t figure out why but you soon realized that it’s because Tony’s never yelled at you like that before. He barely even raises his voice at you because he’s never wanted to be anything like Howard but today, it seems as if he could no longer contain all of the pent up frustration that he’s had with you that has been building for years.

And because of this, you’ve been rendered speechless with no visible emotion on your face save from the seemingly endless stream of tears that spill from your glassy eyes. You don’t know what hurts more: his words or the fact that he’s still staring at you like a stranger.

“Tony, that’s enough,” Steve intervenes when the silence between the three of you stretches on for what feels like an eternity. He positions his body so that he’s blocking you from your father’s cold stare. “I’m not gonna let you talk to her like that-”

“Oh, come on, Cap,” Tony scoffs and you don’t have to be able to see him to know that he’s folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know what-”

“And I don’t need to know,” the broad man in front of you interrupts him loudly and you can do nothing but watch the altercation happen because even if you tried, you can’t pick your feet up off the floor. “Whatever she’s done or said to you doesn’t warrant you speaking to her like that. You’ve fought her at every corner, what do you expect? For her to just lie down and take it? She’s your daughter: you should know as well as I do that she’s as hard-headed as you. You need to take a step back and stop being a backseat driver - she’s an adult now and can make her own choices, Tony.”

And with that, Steve circles an arm around you and lifts you up into his arms, his waist trapped between your legs and your arms gripping his neck. A moment passes when Steve breezes past Tony where your gazes meet and the usual sweetness of his hazelnut eyes has turned bitter with guilt and resentment. You avert your stare as quickly as you can to bury your face in Steve’s muscled shoulder and as your cheek rests on it, you’re reminded all too vividly of the way that Bucky or Sam or Steve (or your dad) used to carry you to bed when you had fallen asleep between the pages of your textbook or face down next to a cold bowl of whatever Pepper had cooked for you that night.

Really, you’re almost convinced that you must’ve dozed off during the short trip from Tony’s lab to your bedroom because when you finally snap back to attention, you’re still in Steve’s arms but he’s standing still in front of your bed. And neither of you say anything for some time, letting the moment breathe while Steve soothes you silently, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your spine as quiet sobs wrack your shaking body.

“Hey, hey,” he hushes you, eventually sliding you down his body and placing you on the bed. You’re sure that your face still reflects your previous mental state but you feel significantly better now, the hive of bees that were slamming at the insides of your heart have tired both you and themselves out and are now resting. You look up at Steve with wide eyes, wet lashes brushing your skin lightly as his baby blues drill into yours so deeply that you’re sure that he must be able to see inside your head by now. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because the answer seems kind of obvious, but I will ask if you need anything?”

You hesitate before giving him an answer, torn between confessing those powerful feelings for him that you’ve tried so hard to repress and letting him go. Instead, you grab one of his hands between both of yours, tugging on it so that he kneels in front of you.

“You didn’t have to do that for me back there,” your eyes flick up to his quickly and you can’t help it when you start to play with his fingers, consciously having to stop your mind from wandering to unsavory places. “I-I know you and my dad are, like, best friends, so I never would’ve asked you to put your friendship at risk and stand up for me like that… it was, uh- it was really sweet of you, Steve, so thank you-”

Steve jerks his head back and for a tense second, your heart drops because you’re sure that you’ve offended him but then he says:

“Y/N, you don’t have to thank me- not at all, I mean- it was the human thing to do,” Steve insists, forcefully grasping your chin in his large hand to make him look at you. The disbelief that sparkles in his eyes lights up your soul and makes a shy smile spread across your lips.

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek like he usually does, but you decide there and then that you really are tired of having your dad take the reigns from you every day. You want to be able to confidently grab life by its metaphorical balls and take a leap of faith off of what is admittedly a very steep cliff. So you grip his face between your hands and redirect his lips to your own.

He’s completely unresponsive for several seconds, causing a scorching hot wave of embarrassment to flood your face - a part of you wants to hold out hope and pray that maybe he’s just shocked by your bold move but you’ve learned not to cling onto unrealistic expectations so you move back, eyes squeezed shut because you can already taste the sourness of rejection on your tongue.

But he knocks all of the breath out of your body when he climbs on top of you and crashes his lips back on yours, cradling your face between his wide palms as he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and raw as your teeth clash with his almost violently but the feeling of his soft lips on yours soothes that ache, their warmth curing the hurt in your heart. He swallows any breath you have left in your lungs as your lips move in tandem with his.

When you pull away because you think you’re about to suffocate, Steve presses his lips down the column of your neck, sucking a bruise right underneath your ear and playfully biting your earlobe. The rough sensation of his thick beard on your sensitive skin makes you giggle breathlessly and your chest heaves as his hands move smoothly down to your waist, hooking his thumbs in the waistband on your shorts.

But then his hands stop moving and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. He lowers his head to your abdomen, resting his forehead on your stomach and your hand instinctively weaves through the golden strands of his hair.

“Steve?-”

“You want this, sweetheart?” he kisses your stomach and moves right in between your legs, looking up at you as his thumbs still toy with the stretchy material of your black shorts.

“Of course-”

And you don’t get to finish your sentence because you gasp as Steve whips off your shorts with unprecedented speed. He takes your panties right with them, throwing them somewhere to the side - you don’t care to notice where because Steve’s eyes are more black than blue and his gaze is locked on your core.

This is when you get an idea.

When you take your t-shirt off, you’re only left in the black bralette that you normally wear around the house, so you whip that off too without any preamble. Steve’s eyes are so focused on the bounce of your breasts that it gives you the opportunity to muster up all of the energy you can, locking your legs around Steve’s waist (your eyes can’t help but travel to the obvious bulge in his blue jeans) and flip him over so that you’re sitting right on top of his erection.

“Wh-”

You shush him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt so that he gets the message to take it off. He does as he’s told but narrows his eyes at you. You almost don’t notice because you’re staring at the glorious expanse of his sculpted upper body. You’ve always thought that he looked like a Greek statue and right now, the way that the sunlight streaming through your window bounces off of his smooth skin and brings out the green in his eyes only emphasizes the fact that he’s a true work of art, a masterpiece in his own right.

Pushing yourself up so that you’re nose to nose with the supersoldier on his back underneath you, you lean down just enough so that your lips ghost over his when you speak.

“I’m supposed to be thanking you,” you press your lips against his momentarily, watching the way that his eyelashes flutter when you slowly slide your hand down his powerful chest, over his muscled stomach and down to his jeans-clad crotch to boldly palm his dick.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

You cut him off with another quick kiss, moving down his body with the grace of a trained dancer (you can thank your mom for over ten years of ballet) so that you can unbuckle the black belt at his narrow waist. Steve props himself up on his forearms, staring down at you with hooded eyes and your eyes keenly follow the swipe of his tongue over his cotton candy lips.

You take your time pulling his zipper down, noticing how his eyes follow the movement of your hands as you push his jeans down his thick thighs. Your mouth is close to watering at the sight of his white Calvins which are very obviously tented in the front and you snap the elastic band of his boxer briefs playfully before pulling them over his erection.

It’s impossible to stop the way that your eyes grow comically large at the size of his cock, something at the back of your mind wondering whether or not you’ll be able to fully take him down your throat. He’s heavy in the both of your hands, the tip flushed red and leaking pre-cum.

But it’s the cocky little smirk on Steve’s face that steels your resolve.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too big for you?” he teases you in a surprisingly steady voice, inhaling again to continue his jeering, but his head falls back and his breath audibly stutters because you flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe up the underside of his dick.

“You were saying?” you taunt right back, a smile of your own gracing your face. He doesn’t have a reply to that, instead moving his hand down to grip the back of your neck tightly, guiding you back down to his cock.

The tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his length before you take the bulbous tip between your lips, sucking lightly and enjoying the way that his blunt fingernails are stabbing into the skin of your neck. You don’t tease him for much longer, one hand on the base of his manhood while you relax your throat and attempt to take all of him in your mouth. Your fight your gag reflex tooth and nail, reveling in the quiet sighs and moans from the man above you.

What you can’t swallow you work with your hand, your other hand coming up to toy with his balls and roll them between your fingers and palm. He controls the speed at which you bob up and down his cock and you keep watching the array of emotions on his face, feeling the power and control that you have over him surge through your body.

“God, doll,” he groans, his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “You’re such a good girl, takin’ all of me like that.”

His words spur you on and you really push your boundaries by taking him all the way down, so close that your nose is being tickled by the dark blond hairs at the base of his cock. What you’re not expecting is the way that Steve applies pressure to the back of your neck that’s just enough so that you can’t move. Your eyes sting as he keeps your head down, making you swallow and choke as small tears leak from your eyes. You’re forced to breathe through your nose as Steve groans when your gag reflex kicks in, your throat constricting around the heavy weight of his dick.

“Such a good little slut, huh?” he smirks, running the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby, suckin’ your dad’s friend off like a little fuckin’ whore.”

You can’t help the way that a loud moan falls from your lips, though it’s almost entirely muted by the thick cock in your mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” Steve’s confidence is only making you wetter. He eases up on your neck, allowing you to withdraw about an inch before he pushes you back down. “You like being called a slut, pretty girl?”

You nod as best as you can under the circumstances, fighting back another moan.

“That’s good, honey, because you’re gonna be my little cockslut from now on, hmm?”

And finally, he pulls you off of him completely, reveling in the way that your eyes are glossy with tears and your lungs gulp down huge breaths as thin strings of saliva hang from your lips.

“Messy girl,” Steve reprimands you condescendingly, but his voice sounds strained and he looks like he could cum just from drinking in your disheveled state. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face at the praise, and Steve cups your face gently and leans in to give you a sweet kiss.

“You gonna let me cum in your mouth, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, nudging your nose with his.

“Yes, sir,” you tease playfully, not wasting any more time and wrapping your lips around his dick once again, running the tip of your tongue against the prominent vein down the side while you bob your head up and down. You’re more determined than ever to push him over the edge, wanting to be the one who has complete control over his pleasure.

“That’s it, just like that- shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you after he takes your face between both of his hands and fucks your mouth, your jaw relaxed as he uses you to chase his orgasm, eyes closed and head hanging back as he loses himself in the throes of desire.

You bask in the sense of satisfaction that you get from the way that his cock twitches in your mouth and the shout that he gives when the evidence of his release floods your mouth. You happily let it slide down your throat, sucking on his tip lightly as you do. The tangy taste lingers on your tongue and as you pull off of him with a pop, you have to wipe around your mouth because you’re sure that he’s made a complete mess of your face.

“Holy fuck, darlin’,” he heaves, pulling you up to rest against his chest but not before you take the time to admire how beautiful he is. A light pink flush that’s started at his cheeks has traveled down his neck and bloomed on his chest - you love the way that it’s burning the tips of his ears. With your chest pressed against his, he ghosts his fingers up and down your back while his lips press against your shoulder.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me… and I didn’t even get you off, baby,” he mutters, only a second away from pouting and it makes you grin.

“He won’t because he’s not gonna find out… and I didn’t want you to,” you reply simply, lightly circling one of his nipples with the tip of your nail. “Besides, you have plenty of time to do that later.”

Steve readjusts himself so that his back is leaning against the headboard and you’re perched in his lap, straddling his thighs. His brows are knitting together and a frustrated frown mars his pretty face.

“No, I want to,” he insists, warm hands landing on your hips and rocking them back and forth so that your clit catches on the muscles of his legs. You bite your lip so as to suppress a moan. “It wouldn’t be-”

“Y/N, babe, are you in there?”

The two of you still as a knock followed by Tony’s soft voice bleeds through the door.

“Shit,” you curse quietly, scrambling off of Steve and grabbing the nearest article of clothing that you can find.

“I know you don’t wanna talk to me right now, but I don’t wanna leave things like this so I’m comin’ in, sweetie-”

“Dad, no!”

But it’s too late, the door opening just enough to reveal your father’s face whose whiskey eyes immediately land on yours. Thankfully, you were able to pull on Steve’s shirt and your shorts, but you can’t say the same for the six-foot-something supersoldier who has skillfully rolled underneath your bed, still naked as the day he was born.

“What’s going on in here, hon?” Tony quirks an eyebrow at you as he pops his head around the door, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his eyes scan the room.

“Nothing,” you say breathlessly, running a hand over your face as you silently pray that your dad won’t catch his friend hiding beneath your bed with no clothes on.

“Okay?” he draws out the word, obviously confused as your eyes meet his. “I just wanted to say so-”

“We’ll talk about it later, Dad,” you try to smile and move towards him so that you shoo him away from your room.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” you affirm, putting your hand on top of the one he has wrapped around the side of the door and squeezing it reassuringly.

“If you say so,” Tony lets go of the door, spinning on his heel and starting to stroll down the hall. You let go of the breath that you weren’t aware you were holding. “And give Bucky back his shirt!”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as your heart warms watching your dad throw a wink at you over his shoulder, knowing that the choppy seas have stilled and the water’s calm once again, the tide returning to its regular routine. You shut the door with a click before turning back to see Steve sitting casually with his back resting against the side of your bed.

“So, uh,” a cheeky smile graces his face. “Same time tomorrow or?”

tagged: @literaturefeen @evnscvll @donutloverxo @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #stark!reader

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nuttyrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Giovanni Conti Bio

“Nutty, are you only going to show up to post about Archie Sonic and your OCs?” Yes, yes I am

Anyways, I decided to throw together a quick bio for Gambit’s dad because hey I figured his stuff out and I’m doing shit with him now.

Shoutouts to @pidgeonspen for doing his design for me.

Anyways, as always, everything’s under the readmore

Name: Giovanni Conti (Real name Brando Romilla)

Age: Approximately 50 years old

Height: 3'4"

Occupation: Auto mechanic/Conman

Location: Unknown, last confirmed sighting in Westopolis. Originally born in Lugaio, Spagonia.

Sexuality: Bisexual, though greatly prefers women to the point of denying any male attraction

Personality: Giovanni's personality is what one would expect from a seasoned conman: charismatic, self-serving, and conniving, the weasel finds success in his trade thanks to his natural talent in dealing with others. To his victims, Giovanni appears to be a charming, compassionate, smooth-talking individual who seems to go out of his way to help others in their time of need. But of course it's all a farce, a way to con unsuspecting victims out of their hard-earned cash. In reality, the man formerly known as Brando Romilla is the exact opposite. A selfish, grumpy, and temperamental weasel "behind the scenes", Giovanni finds himself unwilling to engage with the world around him outside of whatever con he's cooked up or to get out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into this time.

Giovanni's most defining personality trait however, isn't his sardonic attitude or his smoothtalking ways, but instead his paranoia. Giovanni has spent the majority of his life on the run and it shows. He often finds himself looking over his shoulder both figuratively and quite literally, hoping that his latest victim hasn't found out about him or that the law or the mafia or whoever he's crossed hasn't tracked him down to enact their revenge. As such, Giovanni is extremely hesitant to give out his name unless absolutely necessary for the con, even going so far as to make up fake names in emergency situations, though the truth eventually comes out. In addition, he trusts absolutely nobody and almost always looks for a way to backstab/escape any sort of partnership he's found himself on the receiving end of, willing or otherwise.

All of this being said, it isn't *all* bad for Giovanni personality-wise, for when the weasel finds something he actually likes, one can see a softer, more eager side of him come out. Despite his professed hatred of his previous job, Giovanni has a rather deep appreciation for the intricacies of vehicles and vehicle repairs, even going so far as to sneak into antique car shows to gawk at the new vehicles and reminisce about the "good old days" before it "got so complicated" in terms of technology. Oddly enough, he also loves vinyl.

Skills: Giovanni is of course, an incredibly skilled con-man, imploying a variety of cons and scams to trick people out of their money, ranging from simple "tourist trap" tricks such as "no change", "toll booth", and "free gift", to more complicated ones such as "flat tire" schemes and even reselling stolen/counterfeit items at a significantly marked up price. His variety in terms of cons is helped by his ability to sell them thanks to his smooth-talking charismatic persona that he puts on during them. As a result of his occupation he's also extremely adept at pointing out other cons/knowing when he's being duped. Not only that, but he's even picked up some basic lockpicking/hotwiring and ID forging skills, though they aren't quite as honed as his other talents in the area.

Surprisingly enough, again despite his professed dislike of his childhood job, Giovanni is an incredibly skilled mechanic, being able to assess the issues with (mostly older) vehicles just from a few minutes of observation and testing alone and fixing it in record times. OF course he'll complain about how he's "too fuckin' old" for it, but he'll do a damn good job...and even enjoy himself somewhat. He claims he would be unable to work on "new-fangled" vehicles such as Extreme Gear but if he were to get the chance, would find that he'd be a natural at it.

Likes: Antique vehicles, wine, the feeling when he pulls of a con, vinyl records, fresh pressed suits, rare steak, expensive cigars, older women, working on antique vehicles.

Dislikes: The law, organized crime outfits, his ex-wife, his kid, getting caught, prison, cheap beer, "new" technology, people who talk too much, his grandfather, working on vehicles (his relationship with auto repair is..complicated), staying in one place for too long.

Backstory: Brando Rombilla was born into anything but normalcy: born to a pair of younger Spagonian lovers, the result of a tryst gone wrong, he was abandoned on the steps of his paternal grandfather, the widowed mechanic Angelo Rombilla, who would raise the weasel as his own.

Angelo was an old, stubborn, hardworking man who had spent his entire life toiling away as a mechanic, even coming to own his own shop...yet despite it all, he never quite had a lot to show for it, and Brando grew up in not quite poverty, but in...less than modest means

Despite this...unusual situation, Brando would, at least for a time, grow up as any other child would, going to school, making friends, and living as a normal Spagonian child would--at least until he hit the age of 12-13, where his father suddenly and inexplicably ground his childhood to a halt, pulling him out of school and telling him that he was going to be a "working man" from now on, that he'd have to help out at the shop and help put food at the table--and that is indeed what happened.

From then on, Brando found himself working at the modest repair shop, working the front desk, doing oil changes, and learning the ins and outs of auto repair--and he fucking hated it.

Not just because he'd been robbed of the experiences his peers were getting, but it served as a constant reminder of the (at least to him) pathetic conditions in which they lived and worked. In addition, it only served to exacerbate his sheer irritation at his father's stubbornness and near-perfectionist standards.

But over time, as he aged and saw his peers move on to bigger and better things, he realized something else: all this work, all this "good, honest, hard" work he'd been doing, that his grandfather had been doing, that he wanted him to inherit, it was getting them nowhere

The both of them spent years and years doing the same shit over and over, and they were no better off than when they'd started. They still lived like shit, ate like shit, and worked like dogs, and the idea of doing this his entire life revolted him. Yet when he'd bring this up, he'd just get shouted down, beaten down, and told to get back to work. He loathed it all.

Then one day, around the time Giovanni hit 19--it all changed. In a moment of what his grandfather would call laziness and what Brando would later call ingenuity, he accidentally charged a customer for something they hadn't done--and with it, more money than he should've had. It suddenly hit him, his way out, his way to actually do something about all of this. It started off slow, an overcharge here, a useless job done there, a job not done this way or that, even some front product sold off of lies. Before Brando knew it, the shop was actually making money for once, and more than that, he was making money. And the best part was, that for once, Angelo seemed like he didn't have a stick up his ass. He seemed...happy, over the moon really that things had begun to look up. Things seemed to finally be getting better!

....until Angelo caught Brando in the act, after which the mother of all shouting matches ensued, of the grandson and grandfather screaming at each other about this and that, about everything--and saw Brando being thrown out of the shop, out of his grandfather's home--and out of his life

Out on his ass with only the money he'd pocketed and the clothes on his back to his name, Brando by all rights should have been terrified about his future, livid about what had happened, but instead he found himself excited. Now that his grandpappy or his stupid shop wasn't a problem anymore, he could finally do something with himself, and he knew exactly what that'd be--putting to use the same bullshittery that'd gotten him here to begin with.

And so the young weasel found himself hopping all over Spagonia, honing his craft. Whether it be through pinching wares from stores and selling them nearby at an outrageously hiked price, snatching and selling bootleg items, or even using his mechanic skills to craft "wonder items" that were quite literally just old scrapyard junk, Brando soon became quite adept at the art of the con. However, with that adeptness came attention, and with that attention came the watchful eye of the law, which attempted to crack down on the weasel multiple times as he traveled about Spagonia.

Soon enough, his face and name were plastered on wanted signs, in local papers, and in time, he couldn't run any longer, finally being booked on fraud charges and placed in prison for ~ 3 years at the age of 22. Upon getting out, Brando realized that he couldn't exactly do his work here anymore, lest he get thrown back in for good.

But Soleanna wasn't exactly appealing either, especially since the SPD were notorious for cracking down on fraudsters. He was at a loss at what to do, until he managed to catch a TV broadcast talking about Empire City and it hit him- EC would be the perfect place to disappear and get a fresh start. It was big, it was far away, and it was full of suckers just waiting to be parted with their money Forging himself a new identity (quite literally) as "Giovanni Conti" , he smuggled himself on board a ship and soon found himself in Empire City, where he almost immediately got to work--and found the results to be not what he expected

While the toursts were complete suckers as expected, the residents were anything but, and he found himself on the run from the law once more--and in addition, the various criminal orgs that made their homes there and had no tolerance for being scammed. Needless to say, the whole thing frustrated him, and with no other way to vent his frustrations, he turned to drinking, and with it, found himself at a small bar in downtown EC, drinking away his frustrations...and chatting up an equally frustrated, and rather attractive young woman. He didn't catch her last name, but certainly caught her first- Artemis

What should have just been a simple one night tryst suddenly got a lot more complicated once the young woman had tracked him down almost a week later with some soul-crushing news: She was pregnant, and it was almost certainly by him. To make matters worse, Artemis was an up and coming politician, someone in the running for the EC City Council, and she would be DAMNED if it came out that she got knocked up in a one night stand, that would ruin her career! Despite Giovanni's attempts at arguing otherwise, she also insisted on keeping the child, claiming that if word got out she got rid of it, it would ruin her career. Threatening to hand him over to authorities, she blackmailed him into sticking by her side for the following 9 months, appearing in front of the cameras as a pictureesque pair of parents-to-be, Artemis embracing the newfound attention and Giovanni absolutely loathing all the eyes on him, and not only that, but also moving in together to her (admittedly) lavish apartment.

This continued up on through the end of the pregnancy and into the birth of their son, who Artemis named "Tai", a (perhaps ironic) homage to an old Apotosian patron of Luck. From then, things continued normally, well as least as normal as could be for the unwitting parents-to-be, up until the child was around a year old, when Artemis went on a sudden vacation. Left alone with the child and feeling helplessly trapped, Giovanni contemplated making a break for it, perhaps faking his own death and figuring out the details later, when a hooded figure burst into the home and attempted to shoot both him and the child dead. Through a near-miraculous stroke of luck though, the intruder's gun jammed, giving Giovanni the chance to brandish a knife and stab them in the jugular. His heart pounding, his mind racing, Giovanni quickly put two and two together: someway, somehow, Artemis had tried to get the two of them whacked. Quickly disposing of the body and without really thinking about it, Giovanni grabbed the child and made a break for it, bolting from the apartment and leaving Empire City under cover of darkness, trying to make sure he left no trace that he had left--or was even still alive.

Soon arriving in Westopolis, Giovanni and Tai found a small apartment to squat in for the time being. Quickly settling in, Giovanni quickly fell back into his old ways, and found the people of Westopolis far more vulnerable to his schemes than in EC. Still, the weasel wasn't happy. His "new start" that he'd hoped for had fallen apart before it'd even gotten the chance to get off the ground because of *her*, Artemis. Giovanni's frustration gnawed away at him--not helped by the tiny weasel at home, his little boy--the *mistake* that'd gotten him into this mess. He often found himself verbally and physically taking out his frustrations on young Tai, even more so when it turned out the little brat wasn't even good enough to help him on cons. He wished he could get rid of the little bastard once and for all, but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to kill him despite his best efforts.

Years went by, but nothing truly changed for the pair, until young Tai was 8 years old and Giovanni found himself on the bad end of a con gone wrong, having inadvertently found himself attempting to swindle an undercover cop. Rushing back to the apartment he and Tai shared, he quickly grabbed whatever tools he could and attempted to disappear, leaving the young Tai behind for good.

Throwing himself out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire, Giovanni had managed to disappear and evade the cops---and run right into one of his "victims": "Downtown" Ebony Hare--a "made man" in the Carnades, one of the major local outfits--and someone who he'd given a shoddy brake job. Ebony recognized the weasel almost immediately and motioned to off him for messing up his car, but after Giovanni pleaded for his life, Ebony spared him-- on the condition that he work off his "debts" to him and the Carnades.

Faced with either paying his dues or paying with his life, Giovanni made the obvious choice and ended up doing quite a few small jobs for Ebony over the course of the next decade and change (approx 13 years) not only fixing his car but also fixing the other vehicles in the outfit--and giving a disgustingly large portio nof the proceeds from his other "work" directly to Ebony. Once again, Giovanni was trapped doing the very thing he'd been stuck doing since childhood and not only that, but also indebted to a mobster who had no intention of letting him go. He desperately tried to find a way out, but it was to no avail--until a near miraculous stroke of "luck".

The Black Arms invasion decimated a significant portion of Mobius, especially Northamer, and no place found itself worse off than Westopolis. For most living there, it seemed like the end times as the city burned around them. But for Giovanni, it was an opportunity to finally disappear--and never come back.

The invasion soon ended, the repairs soon begun, and the Carnades began to operate once more--but Giovanni was nowhere to be found. Despite a thorough search of the city, the weasel had just...vanished, presumably killed by the aliens or escaping to parts unknown after.

Giovanni's current location is unknown and those who know of him believe him to be dead, but there have been some apparent sightings of the aged con-man. Some say they've seen him on the outskirts of Sand Blast City, others say they've seen him working his trade with another individual down in the Southern Baronies, and some even say that he's still in Westopolis, working his craft, and sticking close to the headquarters of the East Side Pack, a noted rival of the Carnades.

#OC Refs and Bios #Sonic OC #OC Stuff #Sonic FC #Archie Sonic #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Giovanni Conti the Weasel #Gambit the Weasel

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sirchubbybunny · 3 years ago

Text

I have a question for anyone out there who might see this. It's going to be a lot of word vomit at first, but bear with me because this will get wordy. I think what I'm wanting to ask is how did you know if your feelings for someone was just super close, but platonic, or something else. I've talked about this before, but now I'm just in a weird state.

---

I've been thinking about this a lot more over the last few months, especially with everything I've been dealing with. It's been long and complicated, and maybe I'll open up more about it in the future. But needless to say it's been isolating and I've been feeling alone. It feels like the only people who have seen me are my server friends, even though I've been hesitant to show them more of me because I'm afraid I'll end up in another cycle of toxic relationships.

They're so kind to me with how they try to lift me up and remind me of my worth. It always catches me off guard to see people say I'm a good person, I bring them joy, and I'm a beloved asset to the community. We had a little thing going with grids, sliding scales, and charts on where we'd place each other based on different situations (ex: who we'd most likely invite to a dinner party or social event, who is most competent and willing to do crime, and so on).

One compiled by two top members, one being a certain friend, was how they'd rank us based on our demeanor and our relationship to the community. You can think of it as a karma and moral compass system from "good" to "bad", but it was just based on our conduct and not their personal take on if they liked or hated us as a person. To my absolute shock, I was in the top three for both categories for both of them - if not the very first person they listed. I guess it's just telling of how bad my own self worth is because I just feel like I'm here, and I see them say I'm more than that. I'm their guy. I'm (insert nickname).

It's weird coming into a place and, even though my trauma has me always hyper-vigilant, they do so much to reassure me of my worth and that they aren't going to leave me like everyone else has. I've had people defend me before, but they're also people who have contributed to the cycle. With them though? They haven't, at least as far as I know. It sometimes has me wondering if I'm seeing my friends with rose colored glasses, and at this point, I don't care; especially with this one friend in particular. Nobody's perfect. We're all works in progress. But with her, I see her "flaws", but to me, they're beautiful imperfections. She's like kintsugi and stained glass. She's endured so much, she's lived a thousand lives, and yet, like a timeless being, her step and grace remains youthful.

I knew shortly after we met that we'd be friends. We have too much in common and are just weird enough to balance each other out. During the summer, we meshed more and it was comforting to have a ride or die companion to rely when things got messy, and boy, was that a wild time. I think both of us being queer helped, but I don't know. By the end of the summer or fall, I felt like we got closer, and by the time winter arrived...all bets were off. I felt so at home in her company with how we'd share music, movies, art, and memes. I felt a sense of calm when we'd do voice chat stuff and she'd play music - and that only got stronger by the time February arrived.

I don't know when it happened, but something did and I saw her in a new light. I've seen things like her videos and photos before, but now it was different. When I'd see them again, I would notice little things like how bright her smile was or how her eyes reflected in the light. It would make me smile to see her shine and then I'd get fuzzy feelings all over, kind of like butterflies and that weightless feeling you get when your stomach drops on a rollercoaster. I didn't notice until I was free falling without a parachute and it's been hard to not see her the same way again.

I'm always second guessing myself when I send her stuff or we share things because I can't tell if I'm letting my feelings bleed out too much. I've already done this a lot with my writing because I see her as a muse, and now I can't tell for the life of me if she and our server can see it plain as day and they're too polite not to bring attention to it or they're totally in the dark. I've mentioned some stuff she's tagged me in and because I don't know how to read tone, I can't tell if it's just her sharing stuff she likes with me because she thinks I'd like it because we have similar tastes, or she's trying to tell me something - albeit platonically but maybe with something extra.

When I think about the stuff I've sent and want to, I'm afraid it will scare her off if she reads between the lines or can overtly see that I've developed a crush on her - even though I'm doing so much to work on letting that go because losing our friendship for something that isn't going to happen would be selfish; especially since she has her own crush and has said before the idea of being with a guy doesn't feel great. Before I go on, I think I should preface that when I think about my feelings in relation to her, it's never been a sexual thing. I don't see her like that, and that's one thing I'd agree would be crossing a ton of lines and is creepy (if not predatory).

The best way I can describe it is I see her and she just lights up the entire room. She's absolutely fucking stunning and breathtaking that I feel like I need to take my hat off to show respect, if that makes sense. To go back to the kintsugi comparison, I see her and all her perfect imperfections and it makes me admire her more. She's incredibly resilient, confident, smart, and talented, and it just blows me away to see all that she's accomplished. She's brave in such a powerful way that I don't know if she fully knows and it makes me want to fall to my knees in reverence with how she'll do anything to protect those she loves and pull them from the darkness, even if she's fighting too.

She's that person I want to travel the world with and never once for a second have any hesitations or doubts if we're making a mistake. I want to be with her through all her highs and lows. I want to be her personal cheerleader with her accomplishments and milestones, but also her shelter if the world gets to be too much for her to carry on her own. Being in her company is the most I feel I could ever ask for, but something simple and tender like hugs and being able to hold her and her hand would be lovely, too. Again, no sexual favors - period. Being without her is like a year without rain and I can't imagine my life without her. She's easily one of the best things to ever happen to me and just having the honor of her considering me a friend means the world to me. She's done so much for me and my confidence and before her, I always felt like a shell of a person with the world beating down on me. With her, there's no passive aggression (that I can tell), lip service, condescending putdowns, abusive remarks, or anything. She just sees me and everything I can be.

Sharing stuff feels a lot more meaningful now too. She has a lot of movies that are a source of comfort for her and being able to enjoy that with her is always wonderful. Lately, I've been feeling more called to share music with her, but I'm afraid of coming off strong if it's already a song that has deep personal meaning to me. I know with some songs, they're part of my devotional playlists and something I have a strong attachment to because they've felt like a way for me to feel closer to my gods. Now, if I hear one of them, it starts to remind me of her with the same warm feelings I got when I found my path. In a weird way, it kind of feels like stuff with weddings when the dad hands his daughter off. Here, it can feel like my gods giving me a nod to share something personal with someone I have the same admiration for. Does that make sense?

I think I've gone on long enough. I'm trying not to get too deep in my feelings, well more than I already have. My coffee's gone cold and if I keep this up I'll end up writing War and Peace. Like I said before, I don't ever anticipate things to go anywhere. It would be wrong of me to do so and the last thing I want to is to blow the best relationship with another person that I've had in a long time. I know I can't be, well, that, for her. But, I'd like to hope I can at least be the best kind of friend I can be. But if there was no risk, I'd somehow do more to reassure her that I'll always have her back like she has for me, and show her how much she means to me. I don't want to die with that regret of leaving things unsaid because tomorrow is never guaranteed.

I guess I'm a fool, aren't I?

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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Here's another angst prompt for you, should you choose to accept it. JC/NHS or JC/NMJ or similar. Someone convinces NHS/whoever that the way to test JCs love for them is to make him jealous and make him fight for a relationship harder, except that's not how JC works, he's all like 'I knew NHS couldn't really love me, he'll be happier with XX, I have no right to force him into an unhappy relationship' etc etc etc and just aaaaannnggsstt!

as usual, I’m not sure how well this fits the prompt, oops. But there’s Jiang Cheng, there’s a Nie, and there’s some jealousy as well!

Jiang Cheng left the room without a word, and headed out for a walk in the gardens of Carp Tower. He had seen enough.

It wasn’t a surprise as such that Nie Huaisang, a few cups of wine into the banquet, should start misbehaving. For someone who drank so much, he couldn’t handle alcohol very well, always making a spectacle of himself. Usually that meant crying over a minor problem with his sect, or about how much he missed his brother, but sometimes, like that night, he would get flirtatious instead.

Jiang Cheng, often a victim of that flirtatiousness, had more than once advised him to stop drinking in public. It was often a half-hearted scolding though, because he didn’t exactly dislike having Nie Huaisang’s attention like that, especially not now that Nie Huaisang, on occasion, had made overtures while sober as well. Jiang had started wondering how he was supposed to show that he didn’t dislike the idea, but hadn’t found out how yet.

Which was just as well. If that night had proven anything, it was that Nie Huaisang had never seen this as more than a game. And after seeing him shamelessly flirt with Lan Xichen all evening, pouting and batting his eyes like one of those dancers the late Jin Guangshan sometimes brought to conferences, Jiang Cheng felt stupid for ever thinking Nie Huaisang could have seen him as more than a temporary amusement.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t been walking for very long when he heard footsteps rushing behind him. He hated that even before turning around, he could recognise the person. His mother hadn’t been wrong, every time she’d told him he needed to harden himself against others. It really was weak of him to be so desperate for attention.

“What do you want, Nie zongzhu?” Jiang Cheng hissed, refusing to turn around.

He heard the footsteps stop a moment and a soft gasp, as if Nie Huaisang were surprised to have been noticed and recognised. An instant later, Nie Huaisang sauntered at his side, hidden behind a fan.

“Jiang-xiong, you left so suddenly, I became worried. Is there a problem?”

The tone of Nie Huaisang’s voice might have been innocent, but the way he peered at Jiang Cheng over the edge of his fan wasn’t. It was easy to forget, with the way he acted and how he never made anything of it, but Nie Huaisang was pretty good at reading people when he bothered. That he had been seen through made Jiang Cheng’s heart twist with shame.

“It was just too noisy in there, I needed some quiet,” he lied. Partly lied. Banquets held in Carp Tower really were annoying, and brought back unpleasant memories. He’d never have come again, if not for the chance to see Jin Ling. “I’m fine, you can go back and have your fun.”

Nie Huaisang stared at him a moment, then closed his fan and turned as if to leave.

“You’re right, I should enjoy myself while I can. Er-ge is so fun when he unwinds a little, isn’t he?”

Jiang Cheng huffed, refusing to comment on that. All Lans were the same to him, not one of them worth anyone’s time, yet always catching the attention of people around him. If Nie Huaisang wanted to have shitty tastes though, he was more than welcome to go after whoever he pleased.

Unbothered by his lack of reply, Nie Huaisang started walking back towards the buildings. He didn’t make it very far before he stopped again.

“Seriously? That’s how much you care?” he asked in a voice steadier than it ought to have been after how much he’d drunk.

Surprised by the chance, Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. Nie Huaisang was glaring at him, hands on his hips, a stern frown on his face. With such an expression, he looked a lot like his brother.

“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to care about anything,” Jiang Cheng dryly retorted. “Please, go back and have fun with Lan zongzhu.”

Nie Huaisang tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.

“Jiang-xiong, I just never know how to go about things with you,” he sighed, coming closer again. “You’re always making things more complicated than they need to be.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Jiang Cheng retorted, only for Nie Huaisang to tense and quickly hide again behind his fan. “I remember the kind of schemes you’d come up with when we were students. Now that was needlessly complicated.”

Nie Huaisang laughed awkwardly, and lowered his fan a little.

“Ah, yes, that. I was young, I needed to have fun. I still want to have fun. It’s just harder now. And you,” he stated, closing his fan to poke it at Jiang Cheng’s chest, “are a lot less cooperating than you used to be. Hence my previous statement: I never know how to go about things with you.”

“By the look of it, you don’t need me to have fun,” Jiang Cheng replied, batting away the fan. “Lan Xichen seems more than happy to provide you with all the amusement that you need, so go back to him and leave me alone.”

“Er-ge has been indulging me a lot tonight,” Nie Huaisang agreed, stepping closer still.

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth.

Rationally, he knew that Lan Xichen hadn’t exactly flirted back. All he had done was reply to Nie Huaisang’s very silly remarks, laughed at his jokes, and tried to make sure the younger man ate a little between two cups of wine. As far as Jiang Cheng knew, Lan Xichen had never once given any indications that he thought of Nie Huaisang as anything but a second little brother, slightly more whiny and demanding that the first one, but a brother still.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t in a mindset to be rational, not about this.

Because he knew, also, that Lans weren’t exactly demonstrative about their feelings. He knew that Lan Xichen had been there for Nie Huaisang since the moment his brother died. He knew that it was to Lan Xichen (and Jin Guangyao, not that it mattered right then) that Nie Huaisang turned to whenever he encountered problems, even though Jiang Cheng had made it clear he was willing to give a hand as well.

He couldn’t even blame Nie Huaisang for this. Between the number one bachelor of their generation who lead a rich and powerful sect and was skilled in every domain, and the leader of a half ruined sect that was still desperately trying to get back on its feet, a man with so little to make himself appealing that he’d been judged less attractive than the son of a nobody… well, it wasn’t hard to see who Nie Huaisang would pick.

Nobody, given the choice between Jiang Cheng and literally anything else, had ever chosen Jiang Cheng. Even Wei Wuxian had chosen a life in exile and poverty rather than stay at his side, so why would Nie Huaisang be any different?

“Good for you,” Jiang Cheng hissed. “Invite me to the wedding I guess.”

He tried to leave, but Nie Huaisang quickly grabbed his arm with unexpected strength to stop him.

“Jiang-xion, wait! I swear you’re so… can’t you react normally sometimes?”

“Apparently not!” Jiang Cheng spat. “What’s a normal reaction supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang whined, twisting and turning his closed fan in his free hand. “Something? Anything? Maybe saying ‘I’m better than him’ or ‘I won’t lose you to him’ or something like this? Make an effort, Jiang Cheng, I can’t keep carrying this courtship all on my own!”

Jiang Cheng blinked a few times, startled by that unexpected reasoning.

“I’d be an idiot to think I’m better than Lan-fucking-Xichen,” he numbly pointed out. “And what do you mean by courtship? Who’s courting who here?”

He hadn’t realised that it was something so serious between Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, but maybe his own stupid infatuation had forced them to make it more obvious so he’d stop mooning over Nie Huaisang like a lovesick puppy.

Nie Huaisang who tensed again, and threw him a worried look.

“I thought… Jiang-xiong… Jiang zongzhu, did I misread the situation?” he asked, sounding oddly fragile. “I thought we were courting? Isn’t it… I thought you were just a little shy about it,” he whispered, dropping his gaze. “That’s why I… I just wanted to spur you on, I didn’t think… This is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, Jiang zongzhu. I’ll stop pestering you then.”

True to his word, he released Jiang Cheng’s arm, looking more pitiful with every passing moment.

“You never said you wanted a courtship,” Jiang Cheng snapped, making Nie Huaisang flinch.

“I thought it was obvious?” he replied with a nervous laugh. “Like I said, it’s fine, I’ll stop…”

“How was I supposed to guess?” Jiang Cheng cut him. “You’re supposed to ask these things, you idiot.”

Flinching again, Nie Huaisang met his eyes, looking as if he might cry, and opened his fan once more. He didn’t say anything for a while, just observing Jiang Cheng carefully until he seemed to reach a conclusion and lowered his fan again.

“Jiang-xiong, you… is that you saying that you wouldn’t be opposed if I just asked?”

“Don’t say it like it’s an outrageous thing to want! It’s normal to ask!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide, before he burst out laughing.

“Jiang-xiong, only you would need it spelled out when I’ve been so obvious about it! Even Lan Xichen noticed, and he wouldn’t notice a murder happening right under his nose, so that’s saying something.”

That seemed like an oddly specific remark, Jiang Cheng thought, before deciding he didn’t want to ask about that when there were more important matters at hand.

“So you do want a courtship,” Jiang Cheng insisted.

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“Yes, with you!” Nie Huaisang laughed. “Who else? Lan Xichen? No thanks. I’m a Nie, I can’t imagine being with someone who never took the time to develop a personality. So, Jiang Cheng, let me ask you properly: would you entertain the idea of a courtship between the two of us?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, the words stuck in his throat. It seemed almost too good to be true, that anyone would choose him, that Nie Huaisang of all people would choose him, but he wasn’t about to question his luck.

“Good, excellent, we’re finally getting somewhere,” Nie Huaisang said, still half laughing, his cheeks flushed beautifully. “I guess just saying things isn’t a bad method either, after all. Now, Jiang Cheng, how about you kiss me?”

Jiang Cheng spluttered and grumbled at the shameless request, but quickly obeyed anyway.

#jiang cheng #nie huaisang #sangcheng #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #jau writes #my main reason for writing this was to poke fun at xisang yes thanks #and I picked nhs rather than nmj because nmj seems too sensible to try something like this lol #thehobbitbadger

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murasaki-murasame · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Higurashi Gou Ep20

In which Satoko gets sent to gay baby jail for crimes against the aristocracy.

Also I’m finally vindicated in talking so much about Umineko spoilers, lmao.

Thoughts under the cut.

Oh boy where do I even begin with this one, lol.

Well, firstly, I actually like how relatively subdued this episode was, compared to my expectations. Like, Satoko getting sent to a literal on-site prison center is extremely fucked up, but I kinda expected something like her straight up murdering someone. Instead it all started when one of her normal traps ended up giving someone minor injuries, and then after she spent a while in prison, she just went back to school, and ended up going on a trip back to Hinamizawa with Rika and the gang where she stumbled her way into the meta world because haha Featherine go brrr.

Which feels a lot less over the top than I was expecting, but I think it’s a good thing that it didn’t turn into some sort of psychotic mass-murder event or something.

Also, the whole angle of miscommunication leading her to think that Rika ratted her out and got her sent to prison is really neat, and helps make the situation way more messy and complicated without making anyone unrealistically evil or anything. It at least makes it a bit more understandable that Satoko would genuinely blame Rika for her current misery.

I still think they’re both more or less equally in the wrong, though, and they both contributed to the miscommunication. Satoko is basically refusing to adjust to the culture of St Lucia’s, and she’s actively pushing away Rika out of stubbornness, while Rika is leaving Satoko alone to go hang out with her new rich friends, and is giving up on reaching out to Satoko at the slightest bit of resistance from her. So neither of them are really doing enough to communicate or compromise, but it fits with how Satoko is unwilling to change herself, while Rika is desperate to have a place where she can stop putting on a childish act all the time.

It’s kinda interesting how many people seem to fall really strongly into the category of either blaming Rika or blaming Satoko for everything going on here. It probably says a lot about each person’s own personality and their own previous friendships.

I’ve seen people disagree about this, but I actually like that the ‘big incident’ ended up just being that one of Satoko’s normal traps ended up hurting someone. It’s way more minor than pretty much anyone expected, and it feels kinda jarring when compared to all the slapstick comedy stuff in this whole series, but I think that sense of contrast is intentional, and it goes to show just how much Satoko isn’t fitting in with her new environment. She comes from a countryside village where this sort of rough-housing is normal, and everyone’s familiar with Satoko’s traps, and she’s trying to apply the exact same things to a stuck-up boarding school full of rich kids who don’t even know her. Back in Hinamizawa the other club members would just brush off having a metal pot land on their head as part of Satoko’s traps, but in this sort of environment it’s something unprecedented and shocking.

There’s also the fact that Satoko usually sets these traps up in rooms that have much lower ceilings, whereas here she had the pots fall from a chandelier high up in a fancy entrance hall, so it’s likely that they fell a lot further than they usually do, and thus picked up more speed and caused more damage. Which in it’s own way goes to show how Satoko just isn’t used to her new environment, and is still trying to act like she’s back in Hinamizawa where everything’s small and cozy and everyone’s willing to put up with some bumps and bruises as part of having fun.

I still feel like there has to be more that goes on to show how Satoko gets to the point of straight up being willing to repeatedly murder Rika across multiple time loops, as well as hurting all of her other friends along the way, but this whole flashback still isn’t over yet.

I’m also getting more and more convinced now that it actually took a while for her to get to the point of actively trying to murder Rika. I think that throughout the first arcs, she was going through her own whole arc where her motives and methods changed as she became more aware of what was going on.

I’m not 100% sure about a lot of this, but I think that in Onidamashi she didn’t even do anything until the very end. I think that arc was her attempting to just go back to how things used to be, and the stuff with Rena and Keiichi wasn’t planned by her at all. She might have done a murder suicide with Rika to start a new loop afterward, but I don’t think she was trying to kill anyone, or even hurt Rika at all. At least not in that arc.

Watadamashi’s one of the more confusing arcs, but I also get the feeling there that she wasn’t really trying to hurt Rika or anyone else. I don’t think she’s the one who killed Rika in that timeline, and I think her going to the Sonozaki estate at the end of the arc was due to her genuinely trying to figure out what happened to her. Same with her suspicion toward Keiichi.

Tataridamashi’s kinda weird in general, and even after all these flashbacks it still feels weird. But with what we’ve seen of Satoko lately, I really don’t thinks he was spending that whole arc just intentionally lying to everyone about the abuse while not actually being abused by Teppei for some reason. Unless she got told about what to expect from Featherine, a post-Matsuribayashi Satoko shouldn’t even have any experience with a timeline where Teppei shows up, and he doesn’t show up in the first two Gou arcs either, so I think everything with her in Tataridamashi was actually genuine.

The stuff at the end of that arc with Ooishi is still a bit of a mystery, though. Maybe that’s where she first starts actively sending people to go kill Rika, but I’m not sure. The question of why she’d change her motives and methods partway through if she started off with innocent intentions is a bit of a mystery, but I get the feeling that Tataridamashi might have been the turning point, since it would have been the point where Satoko really started to realize just how much pain she herself was going to have to deal with in these loops. So that might have pushed her to try and be more forceful in her methods to try and make Rika change her mind about the village, because she wants to get out of the loops as fast as possible, and she’s also stuck in them until she can ‘win’ against Rika. Which would fit with how in Nekodamashi she seems genuinely distressed and conflicted about having to kill people. I think that rather than her just being some kind of sadist, she’s just trying to brute-force her win condition as fast as possible while dealing with the escalating stress of being stuck in this loop.

And even if she got cured of her syndrome over time after Matsuribayashi, being sent back in time to her pre-teen body might mean that she started slowly developing it again as the loops went on, which might have made her more willing to resort to violence to try and escape.

So basically I think the story boils down to Satoko being given the ability to go back in time with time-looping powers, in a way that’s structured as a game between her and Rika where her goal is to convince Rika to stay in the village forever instead of leaving for St Lucia’s. So at first Satoko didn’t really have any reason or motive to be violent about it, but as time went on and she became exposed to all of the different scenarios with her friends going crazy and killing each other, and in general all the trauma that she basically side-stepped in the Matsuribayashi timeline, she got more and more desperate, and more and more violent.

I at least like the idea of Satoko basically taking for granted that she happened to wind up in the good timeline where everything went well and nobody went crazy and killed each other, and now her attempt to go back and ‘fix things’ has caused her to trap herself in the same hellish loop that Rika was trying to escape from in the first place.

I could also totally see Featherine setting this up and watching it unfold because she knew it’d be fun to watch, lol.

And yeah on that note, Featherine’s officially in the story now. So that’s a thing.

I guess we’ll see how things go next week, but I think it’s kinda fruitless to try and deny that this is Featherine. I could see them not using her name explicitly, but for all intents and purposes this is literally just Featherine, and at some point we’d just be arguing about meaningless semantics.

They did adjust her design a little bit to fit the Japanese mythology vibe of Higurashi more, but I’d say her design is still about 80% the same, and they still included both her distinct memory device and the green sash with the medal on it that has nothing to do with Japanese mythology. They just replaced her cane with a staff, adjusted part of her dress to look more like Hanyuu’s outfit, and gave her some eye-shadow.

I get the feeling she’ll just introduce herself to Satoko as ‘Oyashiro-sama’, to explain what Satoko meant about meeting Oyashiro-sama and being made into their new miko, but she’d still be Featherine at the end of the day.

One detail that might go a long way to explain things one way or another is how Featherine mentions having met Satoko at some point in the past. Which might mean that she’ll just straight up say that she’s a version of Hanyuu and reference the events of Matsuribayashi. I know people still disagree on if Hanyuu and Featherine are the same person, but I think that for all intents and purposes they are. If anything, ‘Gou!Featherine’ might exist to show how that transition happened in the first place. Which is probably along the lines of Hanyuu ‘going to sleep’ after Matsuribayashi, physically maturing and having her personality adjust, and then going on to straight up ascend into witch-hood. But we’ll see how it goes.

I’ve also seen people suggest that it might tie in to the hypothetical connection between Satoko and Lambda, which might just cut straight to the chase and directly bring Featherine’s role in Umineko into this, but that seems less likely. I still like the idea of Lambda being relevant to this somehow, but I’m not sure if she’ll come into play just yet.

It might annoy some people, but I hope that they just commit to having Satoko and Lambda literally be the same person, and just have it be a bit of a time paradox where maybe Satoko becomes Lambda after going through this loop, and she then goes back in time and gives Takano her blessing to trigger the original events of Higurashi. Which might be a bit of a clunky retcon that’d annoy people who don’t like paradoxes, but honestly at this point it’d be the most satisfying way to actually explain who Lambda is, and how her relationship with Bern even started in the first place.

This also feels like exactly the sort of situation where Featherine would grant Satoko the powers of a witch as part of setting up this whole loop, like what Lambda did with Takano and Beatrice. Satoko gets to become a new witch of Hinamizawa for the duration of the time loop, and maybe at the end of it, both she and Bern ascend into full-fledged witches who leave their game board and become voyagers.

Though, like with how I think they’ll avoid outright using the name ‘Featherine’, they might just use the word ‘miko’ as a sort of analogue for the concept of witches, so it fits Higurashi’s setting more.

There’s also the point that, as Satoko mentioned, she had broken into the Saiguden as a child, but I dunno if Featherine is referring to that. Honestly that whole plot point still feels super weird to me. She brings it up in this episode, so it’s not like Ryukishi forgot about it, but then we see that even in this loop, the statue is unbroken, which just raises the question of if it’s some kind of major oversight or retcon about what Satoko did when she broke into the Saiguden as a child.

Anyway, the real question with all this super heavy-handed Umineko stuff is whether or not this is actually going to lead to something along the lines of an Umineko anime remake [or a Gou-style sequel]. It really feels like they’re risking alienating people on both sides of the aisle if they bring in Umineko elements without doing a whole lot with them.

I have a lot of thoughts about how some kind of new Umineko anime could work, but I’ll just make a separate post about that if I want to go into it in detail.

I’m also wondering more and more whether or not they’re even going to be able to wrap up Gou’s story itself in just four more episodes, or if we’ll get some kind of second season. I still feel like we’re in an awkward situation where four episodes doesn’t feel like enough to wrap things up, but even one more cour feels like more than we need, considering how deep we are into the end-game. Unless things massively switch course for a second season, I dunno if there’s that much material left. Considering that this isn’t even acting like a remake anymore, I doubt they’ll go back and cover some of the stuff they’ve glossed over like Meakashi and Tsumihoroboshi. But who even knows.

One option is that Gou could directly lead into a new Umineko anime, especially if they go down the route of doing a Gou-style sequel to Umineko rather than a regular adaptation. There’s a lot of ways they could handle it.

Also, we STILL haven’t seen the animation for the new ending theme, so unless we’re just never getting any, I think it’s probably going to include stuff like Featherine that would have been a spoiler before this episode. The way that they only played the last section of the OP visuals also makes me wonder if maybe they’re going to adjust those as well, even if the song stays the same. I could at least see them explicitly showing Featherine rather than having her be a silhouette.

Anyway, I’m still enjoying this arc a lot, and I think it actually serves as an interesting continuation of the VN’s story, but as a whole I think it says a lot about Gou that it feels more interesting to just speculate about the Umineko references going on, lol.

#murasaki rambles #higurashi #higurashi gou #This amount of Umineko teasing is actually going to give me an aneurysm :v

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