#he probably learns the very hard way i fear

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven

NOTE: This chapter is about twice as long as normal. Thank you!

[CHAPTER SIX]

"Jordan, wake up!" I hear Hannah yelling through the bedroom door, pounding on it hard enough to break it. In a panic, I roll out of bed, hitting the ground with a thud.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" I cry out, scrambling for the door. I pull it open quickly, fearing for a millisecond I'd ripped it off it's hinges. In front of me is Hannah with a shy grin on her face. Next to her is Beth, holding a large plate stacked with pancakes. My jaw drops. I'm speechless.

"Good morning sleepyhead," Hannah says meekly. She very much understands she nearly killed me with her wake up call.

"What the fuck?" I groan, rubbing my eyes. "Is this how you normally wake people up?"

"With pancakes?" Beth offers, holding out the plate to me. I scoff, shake my head, and sigh heavily.

"Everyone else is downstairs," Hannah says, taking a pancake directly off of Beth's plate and handing it to me. I take it and take a bite. It's a good pancake.

"Who made these?" I sigh, motioning for the girls to enter my room so I could get dressed. They close the door behind them.

"We did, and Josh supervised." I rubbed my temples from the hangover that began to creep it's way into my consciousness. I hadn't even noticed it with the adrenaline roaring through me. As I crouch down to my bag, Hannah and Beth both set themselves onto the bed.

"How was your night? You guys were laughing, like, the entire time. We heard you from upstairs!" Beth says. I shrug.

"It was good, from what I remember." I admit. Slowly, the memories had started trickling back into my head. The porch, the couch.

Joshua.

My face starts to redden immediately as I think about it. The smell of his clothes, laying in the snow, his head in my lap.

"Did you get wasted?" Hannah asks. I can hear her eating.

"Feels like I did," I admit with a small chuckle. "My head is starting to hurt."

"Smart of you to leave water and aspirin next to your bed," she replies. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I pull out a pair of jeans, a dark blue turtleneck sweater, and a pair of thick black socks.

"What?" I look up, and knowing, evil smiles start to creep onto their faces. They are more like their scheming brother than I thought. I stand up and change as Hannah reaches over to the pills and water.

"No note," Hannah sighs as she hands them to me.

"Why would there be a note?" I ask defensively. "I probably put them there and don't remember." I take the items from Hannah and down them.

"Or somebody else put them there."

"Ok guys," I start, putting my hands up. "I can tell you're scheming. I know your brother, you've got the same look he does when he's about to throw paper at my head." They snicker a little at this.

"Josh totally has a thing for you," Beth whispers. I raise my eyebrows. "And we think you guys would be super cute together."

"I don't think so, girls. To either of those things," I gulp, walking quickly for the door. Beth is quickly able to block me, standing in front of it. "He's made my life hell for most of my life. Isn't just getting along enough?"

"We saw you guys outside yesterday," Hannah beams. She appears as if she can barely contain her excitement and she pushes up her glasses. "Just rolling around in the snow... On top of each other."

"We were drunk!" I defend, nearly yelling. "Now can we please go downstairs?"

"Are you claustrophobic?"

"What??"

"Nevermind." Beth steps aside, and I hesitate. I take a deep sigh before slowly turning back around.

"What makes you think he feels that way about me?" I ask. Both girls look at each other with smug smiles on their faces, and I roll my eyes.

"Well, for one, the amount of attention he's given you over the years is incredible," Beth starts. "Maybe not the attention anybody would've liked-"

"Not that we're excusing it." Hannah chimes in.

"Right. Bullying is wrong and he's an asshole for what he's done to you over the years. But for the entirety of our lives that he's known you, he's perked up at the mention of you." I raise my eyebrows again and place my hands on my hips, waiting for them to continue.

"Every time Chris was over, somehow you were always brought up, even after you changed schools."

"I think you guys are bullshitting me," I laugh. There was no way.

"I can almost guarantee he knows things about you that you wouldn't think he does," Hannah says. They finally start making their way towards me and the door to exit to the kitchen. "You'll see." I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Whatever."

"Don't worry, Jordan, we'll take care of it." I don't like the sound of that at all. As soon as the door is open, Hannah and Beth rush past me. When I get to the kitchen, I see Josh, Chris, and Matt talking.

"Good morning," I greet. As soon as Josh sees me, a red dusts his cheeks. He averts his eyes, looking at the ground. A smile tugs at my lips for a moment. Does he remember?

"Good morning, cousin." Chris says in a sing-song voice. Matt smiles and nods in greeting. Everyone else was scattered around, Emily, Mike, and Jess on the couch, Josh, Chris, Matt, and I in the kitchen, and the twins go to the dining room table to sit with Sam and Ashley.

"Mornin'," Josh nods. Chris squints his eyes, looking between Josh and I.

"Forgive the attitude, Josh woke up mad hungover." Chris explains.

"You didn't?" Matt asks, grabbing a plate of half eaten pancakes that I can only assume is his and continuing to eat.

"Nah, never had a hangover in my life," he brags, pushing his un-styled hair back. It pokes upward as it would normally would, but the bedhead was severe, making him look more like Guy Fieri than my cousin. As I go to the massive plate of pancakes on the counter, Josh walks up next to me to get some, himself.

"How did you sleep?" He mumbled, his voice low. I hum as I consider my answer.

"I slept fine," I answer. I grabbed three pancakes, spreading butter across each one. I hesitate before what I say next. "Thank you for the pain killers and the water."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Josh says, a smile tugging at his lips. The same as the day before out on the balcony, he was standing shoulder to shoulder with me as we decorated our breakfast.

"Right, I forget you're pure evil." I chuckle.

"Just the worst." he responds. We look at each other, just standing and smiling like fools. Chris slaps his hand hard on Josh's shoulder, knocking the air out of his friend and snapping us out of it.

"You guys seemed to have sorted out your differences," Chris coo's, shoving himself between us and draping his arms over our shoulders. Josh looks frustrated, his common intense stare now aimed at his best friend. "I'm so proud of you guys." I laugh, and Josh's expression softens.

"Yes, Cochise, your roll as best friend is officially revoked and now given to Jordan," he teases. Chris gasps and releases us from his loose embrace, allowing us to actually eat our breakfast.

We eat in a comfortable silence. The ambience of the warm fire crackling in the living room and the gorgeous view of the snow falling slowly outside of the windows allows for a comfortable environment. This is the most comfort and acceptance in a group I've felt in a long time, if not for the first time.

"Alright party people," Beth starts, everyone else following behind her. "Group meeting in the kitchen."

"Oh, yay, my favorite." Emily says sarcastically. Everyone ignores her as Beth continues on.

"What do we want to do today?"

"We could go on a hike." Sam suggests. Jess looks at her in terror.

"In this weather?" she gasps.

"If you wear the right clothes it's really not that bad."

"For Ms. One-With-Nature, maybe."

"Do you still have those skis and snowboards up here, Josh?" Mike asks. Matt perks up.

"Yeah, sure, but I don't think anybody here is professional enough to navigate the trails here," Josh answers. "We could use the outdoor hot tub."

"And freeze to death as soon as I leave the water??" Ashley scoffs. "No thank you!"

The group continues to babble, throwing out ideas left and right of what we wanted to do today. As it was my first time at the lodge, I figure it would be better if I stayed out of this conversation - especially because I just don't know what there is, here. I listen in. Sam, Matt, and Mike are suggesting more strenuous and physical activities, Chris suggesting things like a snowball war, the others suggest more indoor activities. The twins and Josh say nothing other than confirming the possibility of the activity being a choice at all.

It appeared that "snowball war" was tied with "massive indoor blanket and pillow fort."

"C'mon, guys, it's winter! When was the last time we played in the snow?" Josh asks excitedly. He's waving his arms around as he speaks. I'm not sure I've ever seen him want something so bad.

"When was the last time you've made a pillow fort?" Ashley asks. As they continue their debate, I can't help but notice that Hannah and Mike were missing. I glance around, but they're nowhere to be seen. My eyes land on Emily. Her expression is that of fake interest in the conversation, trying to hide what I could tell she really felt. I never thought that I would see worry in her eyes. She makes eye contact with me, but instead of making a scene, she averts her eyes and turns around, heading towards the bathroom. For a split second I swear I saw tears in her eyes.

"Snowball fight wins the vote!" Chris cheers, he and Josh chest bump and I nearly jump out of my skin at the sudden interruption to my thoughts. "Everybody gets ready and we'll meet outside." As we disperse, I go in the direction that Emily had. I get to the bathroom, where I assumed she went, and gently knock.

"Go away!" Emily hisses. I can hear her sniffling.

"Snowball fight is the winner." I say softly. I'm pressed lightly against the door, wanting to hear anything she might say.

"Okay, great! Then go do that and leave me alone." There's a long beat of silence, the only sound being toilet paper ripping off the roll and what I assume is Emily blowing her nose. "I know you're still out there."

"Are you ok?" I ask. Silence again, and a sniffle.

"Yeah, I'm... Fine," she answers, her tone much softer now.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not with you." she scoffs. I sigh and let off the door. As I do, it opens. Emily, shorter than I am, looks up at me, her mascara streaming down her face and smudged badly.

"You look like shit." I state. She laughs and steps aside for me to step in, closing the door behind me.

"Are you gonna make fun of me?" Emily questions, leaving against the sink and crossing her arms.

"For what?" she looks at me like I'm stupid. "You haven't even told me what you're crying about yet. Not much to work with." She laughs again, softly. A smile tugs at my lips, a sort of pride swelling in my chest at making her smile, let alone laugh.

Twice.

"It's just..." Emily looks down, shaking her head like she can't believe herself. "Mike."

"What did he do?"

"He -" she cuts herself off and looks up at the ceiling, blinking tears away as if her makeup wasn't already ruined. "He keeps entertaining other girls, I don't know. I know you noticed he and Hannah are nowhere to be seen. They were out on the balcony earlier." I slowly set myself down next to her. She doesn't move, so I hesitantly reach up and place my hand on her back. I can feel her tense up before settling under my touch.

"I'm sorry, Emily." I offer, unsure of what to say.

"Hannah and I have been friends for so long, I thought she would have some kind of respect for me," Emily gulps. "After all I've done for her."

"I don't know what to say." she lets out an airy laugh at my statement. All I know how to do is to continue to rub circles onto her back through her thin sweater.

"Listening is enough, or... whatever," she sighs, leaning into me and laying her head on my shoulder. For a moment, I considered pinching myself. We sit there together in a comfortable silence aside from the last sniffles of heartbreak from Emily.

"We can fuck them up with snowballs," I offer quietly. I didn't want anyone to start looking for Emily - I was almost certain she was missed. "You can spit on them or put ice chunks inside." Emily rolls her eyes, but she's smiling as she pushes herself off of the bathroom counter.

"Encouraging me to split people's lips with ice is a cruelty I never expected to hear from you, Jordy." I narrow my eyes at the rather cringeworthy nickname. "It's a nice refresher."

"Do you want me to help you with cleaning up your makeup?" I ask, opening the cabinets in search of makeup wipes. "It's smudged to all hell."

"It's a smoky eye, genius," Emily retorts. I scoff at her as I find the wipes I knew Beth kept in here. "Ever see it before?"

"You're not rocking it, girlfriend." I state in a mildly mocking tone. She quirks her eyebrow at me and in her eyes is something different when she looks at me. It looks like approval - respect, even, but with Emily I knew it could never be that easy.

"Jordan." She commands as she sits on the lid of the toilet and waits for me to clean her up. I snap my head to her. She spoke with such authority, I wasn't sure what to do other than pay attention. As our eyes meet, Emily looks away with a sudden shyness and embarrassment.

"Emily?"

"Thank you."

----------

I stand at the door, looking outside at my acquaintances as they chatter. I was as dressed for the winter as I could be - which wasn't enough. I hesitated in leaving the warmth of the lodge despite knowing I would only have fun.

"Don't just stand there, let's go." Emily goads, pushing past me and pulling open the door, causing me to stumble. She's cleaned up and dressed fashionably, and I suppose she's back to her old self. I can't help but smile, though. I'm just glad she feels better. I sigh before following behind.

"There you are," Josh says as he spots me. His gaze completely passes over Emily, who is directly in his line of sight. Of course, she notices and turns around to smirk at me with an eyebrow raised. I can only shrug in response. "Now we can get started!" I bury my nose in my hoodie, Mr. Winter already biting at my face.

"What are the rules, good sir!?" Chris shouts in a terrible noble accent. He's already in the snow, using his feet to push up a pile for cover like he did when we were children. Say what you want about Chris, but when it came to snowball fights? He didn't play around.

"Why, thank you for asking, my good man!" Josh responds, his accent better but not by much. "No ice, in the snow! We don't want a single fatality on this battle field!" He paces forward as if he were a drill instructor, holding his hands behind his back and looking straight ahead. I can see Matt and Mike rush to follow Chris's lead in making their own shields. "Do try to avoid headshots!" Josh stops and turns around quickly before pacing ahead. "FINALLY!!"

"Get on with it, Josh," Sam scolds, folding her arms. I can tell she's eager to begin and her patience was running thin from being cooped up indoors.

"If you're hit above the belt, three times, you're OUT!!" He continues, ignoring Sam aside from a glance. He stops, finally standing still and facing towards those of as that hadn't already started our defenses. "Are we clear?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" I shout, saluting him. Nobody else does the same, and I feel embarrassed. Is nobody else funny or am I just that lame? Josh beams at me, and my concerns suddenly cease. My heart rate rises.

"5 MINUTES TO PREPARE!" He shouts. As the remaining group disperses, Josh hurries over to me, looking me up and down with a concerned look on his face. "Where's your coat?"

"It was stolen at the station," I mumble. "This hoodie is all I've got. It's plenty warm." He sighs and opens his mouth to say something.

"Jordan, Josh! Come here, come here, team up with me!" Chris whisper shouts. As Josh and I rush over to the now massive wall Chris had pushed up, I glance over across the other side of the yard. Matt, Jess, and Sam hurriedly make their pile. Jess is grinning from ear to ear as she tosses fluffy snow onto the top of their wall, contributing near nothing while Sam and Matt pack the snow in as tight as possible.

In another corner, Ashley, Mike, Emily and Beth do the same - minus Emily. She's crouched down with the others, but by the look on her face I can tell she's not enthused about putting her gloveless hands into the freezing snow. Finally, Hannah and Ashley practically bury themselves in the thick blanket of weather as if hiding themselves. I can't help but snicker at their fear as Mike shouts.

"WAR!!" He immediately throws a fat snowball at Matt's pile. Matt turns to look, and unluckily enough, gets hit directly in the center of his face.

"Fuck!! I thought we said no headshots!!" He goes down. Jess squeals in fear and excitement. Snowballs start flying everywhere. Josh, to my right, made snowballs and packed them as tightly and as spherical as he could, making a pyramid of ammo for Chris. I move in between Chris and Josh, hoping for both protection and a little bit of warmth.

"Load!" Chris shouts. I take a snowball from the pile of 'ammo' and place it into Chris's hands.

"Dude, where are your gloves?" I ask. He throws, and just before he can hide again he's hit in the shoulder.

"THAT'S ONE!!" Jess shouts excitedly. I peer over the snowfort to see her jumping up and down before Matt and Sam pull her down, just barely avoiding the wrath of Michael Munroe and Emily Davis.

"Shit, I can't believe Jess got a hit on me," Chris grumbles. I giggle as I hand him another snowball. He throws it again, and I hear Mike shout.

"You're sure you're not too cold?" Josh suddenly asks, holding a loose pile of snow in both of his hands. I look at him over my shoulder and I'm shocked to be met with what seemed like genuine concern.

"Yes, I'm sure," I assure. I'm lying, though. I wanted to ask him to let me use his coat again so badly, to bury myself in it's warmth and his smell. I shudder at the thought of being so affectionate towards him. He may soon be a friend, if the kindness continues on, but I didn't want to admit yet that I'd grown so fond of him and the things about him so quickly after I'd hated him so passionately. I turn back around and hand Chris another load before feeling Josh's arm press against mine, sitting shoulder to shoulder with me. He's so, so warm - and I think he knows this.

"THAT'S TWO!" I hear Jess cheer as Chris's glasses are knocked off of his face.

"Fuck!" Chris hisses, wiping the snow from his face. "Shit, that's so -" another hit to the back of the head interrupts him.

"YOU'RE OUT!!" Sam boasts. I peer over the diminishing cover to see who had retreated back into the lodge in defeat. Josh, Sam, Mike and I were the only ones left, Jess actively walking up the stairs as she'd just gotten 'out'. Ashley and Hannah had gotten bombarded almost immediately after the match had started, so I was unsurprised to see them on the porch, huddled together for warmth. Aside from that, I notice that Emily and Jess are whispering to each other, glancing at Hannah and Mike. I furrow my eyebrows before getting blasted in the shoulder.

"Holy shit!" I hiss. Mike threw hard.

"Hey, man, cool it!" Josh shouts as I lay behind the nearly completely destroyed wall of snow.

"Sorry!" Mike returned. I feel another one hit me. Josh kneels next to my dying form.

"Josh, I..." I start dramatically, grabbing at his shirt. "I can't go on..."

"No, c'mon Jordan, don't do this to me! We're gonna make it, okay? We can still win! There's two of us and one each of them!" I hear Sam groan in displeasure as Mike defeats her swiftly. "One of them!" Josh corrects himself. I laugh, and he ducks to barely avoid getting hit.

"I'll distract him, you go in for the kill," I whisper. Josh nods, and I let go of his shirt.

"Godspeed, pilgrim," he says. I roll over to my hands and knees, crawling - rather clumsily - out of the little cover I had.

"Not smart, are you Jordan?" Mike calls out, launching snow at me. I drop to the ground, barely dodging it. "Pure luck!"

"How much life you got left in you, Mike?" I shout back, getting back up and running, crouched, to the depleted cover Matt had built up. Unlike the others, who were now huddled together and speaking in whispers, Matt, Hannah, and Beth sat on the stairs and watched us, cheering. Matt looked stressed out, as well, as if his favorite team was close to losing.

"Hit me twice and you've bested me!" Mike calls. I manage to dodge another of his throws. As I bend down, I scoop up my own snowball and throw, barely bothering to aim. The weak snowball splits into multiple pieces, but the majority still hits him.

"THERE'S ONE!" Matt shouts. I nearly jump out of my boots. I've never seen Matt so energetic and passionate about anything before. "ONE MORE, ONE MORE, LET'S GO!" As Mike aims to throw at me again, he's hit in the chest by Joshua. Mike falls dramatically, sticking out his tongue and crossing his arms as he fell backwards to his death.

Instead of walking to Mike, Josh walks to me and helps me up. As I grin at him, he presses a snowball to my chest.

"You are dead, and victory is mine." He states, patting my shoulder. My jaw drops, and I can hear Matt and Mike laughing.

"You betrayed me, just like that?" I frown. Josh says nothing, opting instead to lean down by my ear so no one else could hear him.

"Let's get in the lodge and get you warm." He pats me on the shoulder again before walking past me and into the lodge. I huff, crossing my arms in annoyance. Some things never change. Once we're back inside, I glance at the clock. We'd been out there for a little over an hour and a half.

"Who wants hot chocolate?" Beth asks in a sing song voice. She motions towards the counter, where there was a line of steaming hot chocolates and a large, clear bowl of tiny marshmallows. I stay behind as the rest of the group crowds the counter. Josh stands with me.

"Have you spoken to my sisters this morning?" He asks, bumping his hip into mine.

"Some. Why?" I return the hit.

"I think they're scheming something." He hums. We continue hip-bumping back and forth.

"They are Washingtons, after all," I grin, dodging his last hit and going to the hot drinks. They smelled so, so good. I grab my cup and step back, my back bumping into Josh's chest. He grabs my hips gently to hold me steady as he puts his mouth next to my ear, just as he did moments before outside.

"I think they're trying to get us together," he surmises. "They're even looking at us right now." I glance up at the twins as Josh backs up a little. He was right. "Just watch out. We might get tied together, or something when we least expect it."

----------

The night is an odd one.

As soon as the sun began to set, drinks were reintroduced to the group. Unlike the night before, however, everyone was sipping rather than chugging. There's an odd tension in the air. Nearly everyone had been shooting suspicious glances at one another for the entire evening, Emily and Jess being the worst. They just kept whispering. Sam was the biggest give-away that something was afoot, her expression one of guilt and confusion. Whenever I'd tried to pry, though, I was turned away until eventually the majority had sauntered off to somewhere else.

Josh, Chris, the twins and I sat in the living room together, red solo cups with our names written on them scattered across the large coffee table. On the television, commercials no one paid attention to were running. At this moment, the man on screen was attempting to sell a non stick copper pan.

Hannah and Beth sat on either side of me. Beth wore black leggings, a thin grey sweater, and her fuzzy beanie to match, while Hannah was dressed in dark jeans and a t-shirt.

"I never noticed your tattoo," I point out, poking the design on Hannah's right shoulder. "You like butterflies?" Her face grows red as she nods and smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. I narrow my eyes at her. What kind of a response was that? Chris and Josh bantered about some video game as Hannah and Beth began to attempt a confession from me.

"Do you like him too?"

"Do you think he's cute?"

"Would you kiss him if you got the chance?"

I grow more and more frustrated with each question, tired of repeating myself. With each 'no' and 'stop asking,' the anger continued to build inside my chest. Eventually, I stand up.

"Okay, guys, that's enough. I told you no and to leave it alone." Chris and Josh stop to look at me, the twins looking embarrassed themselves.

I don't think Josh was disgusting or anything. Unfortunately, in fact, I have continued to think the opposite as we to spend more time together. But the lack of boundaries that the twins seemed to respect had pushed me to my limits, despite their seemingly good intentions. A wave of embarrassment washes over me as they stare. Hannah and Beth are smiling, still, and the embarrassment is replaced again by anger.

"I'm going to go lay down, I think," I decide, taking a deep breath. I downed the rest of my drink quickly, setting it back down onto it's coaster rather harshly. Other than Josh, the others begin to protest. Instead of asking me to stay out, have more to drink, he stared up at me like a puppy. For some reason, that was what made me want to stay the most.

That look.

"Just a nap, just a nap," I promise as I walk towards the stairs, waving my hand over my shoulder dismissively. As fun as everything had been, my social battery and tolerance for other people had been shrinking exponentially. A part of me couldn't wait to go home.

I get to my room, flopping down onto the bed and groaning, kicking the bed. I love the twins, I really do, but the lack of boundaries and acceptance of the word 'no' was concerning and uncomfortable, to say the least. I start to drift off to sleep quickly.

Josh has been kind to me. Caring, even. I replay our interactions of the weekend over and over again in my head. He'd said it was because I was friends with his sisters and his best friend, but was that really the only reason? Kindness by association? My face grows hot when I remember the couch, his hand resting on my neck, the way he looked at me, leaning in to kiss me.

I thought he had a thing for Sam.

Just as I'm about to fade out into dreams, there's a gentle, barely audible knock on the door.

"Go away." I groan, burying my face into one of the soft feather pillows. I didn't want to see anybody right now.

"It's Josh."

"...come in."

I take my face out of the pillow to watch him. The door creaks open slowly, opening just enough for Josh to slip through. He closes it behind him as if sneaking in.

"Don't worry, I think we're in the clear. My parents are asleep," I joke. He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "What's with the smug face?"

"You told me to go away until you knew it was me," he says. I sit up and scoot to sit on the side of the bed, Josh coming to sit next to me. He sat close, our shoulders pressed together as usual. "I think you're starting to like me, J."

"Why did you come in here?" I ask, ignoring what he said. He chuckles.

"I wanted to check on you, is all," Josh answers. "I'm sorry about the girls, they're convinced we're meant for each other now that we're not... battling." I nod slowly as if in understanding, but all I can think about is how good he smells and how warm he is.

"It's just annoying, I guess," I shrug. "My boundaries mean a lot to me, I don't like when any of them are crossed." Josh says nothing. There's a sound at the door followed by girlish giggling, and Josh stands up quickly, his eyes wide.

"They didn't..." he says, marching to the door and grabbing the handle and shaking it wildly. "Goddamn it!"

"What? What is it?" I ask, growing worried.

"They locked us in."

"They what?" I nearly shriek, standing up with him. "What kind of door locks from the outside!?"

"It's a trick we used to do when we were kids," Josh explains as he continues to shake the handle. "There are these things that let you lock a door from the outside, it's kind of hard to explain." I scoff, pressing myself against the door.

"Hannah, Beth," I start. "Chris! Let us out! Please!?"

"In a bit!" one of the twins responds. I can't tell who is speaking through the door, their voices identical as their faces.

"I am not happy, you guys," I state. We hear them walk away hurriedly, and Josh sighs. I turn to him. "What do we do?"

"I guess we wait."

"...I don't like being trapped." I murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear me. I hold myself as if I'll fall apart. Josh looks at me with an expression I can't pinpoint. Fear? Regret? I don't have any issues with being in a small room or in any room at all - as long as I can leave at any time. I sit back onto the bed.

"Is that..." Josh starts. I look up at him. His expression is embarrassed and remorseful. "Is that because of me?"

"...yeah." I admit. Josh had locked me into lockers at least once a year when I was small enough to fit inside. I would scream and cry for at least 20 minutes each time until he let me out. The teachers at that school sucked. He says nothing, turning away.

He doesn't apologize.

"That... sucks." he mumbles. My chest hurts. Is he not sorry? His expression was remorseful but I wanted so badly for him to say it, to apologize for everything he'd put me through despite our eventual reconciliation. I say nothing, though. I hesitantly accept that an apology should never be expected from him.

Josh stays silent as he sits next to me again, though this time he's not touching me.

"They'll let us out, okay?" he says, attempting to comfort me. I don't respond, choosing instead to roll over and lay onto the bed, my back turned to him. It's petty, I know. But I was so, so uncomfortable. The inability to leave the room was crushing to me. "They'll let us out." I feel the bed shift as he moves, placing a hand on my shoulder. My instinct is to shake him off, but I would be lying if I said the physical contact didn't ground me somewhat.

We don't speak for a while, just sitting in the uncomfortable silence aside from my deep breaths in an effort to calm myself.

"Is there anything I can do?" Josh asks. His hand never leaves my shoulder. I slowly start to turn to him again.

"I don't think so," I answer. The silence continues as I very slowly make my way to sit next to him again. Eventually, I'm back in place. I barely lean against him, testing the waters. His touch was comforting and grounding, and it was what I really wanted - needed - right now. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't his arm over my shoulder pulling me into him.

Josh is warm, and much more solid than I expect. It wasn't as if he was a beef cake, but his shoulders were somewhat broad, he was lean, and it felt as if he were somewhat muscular.

I try not to think about him shirtless.

"I'm sorry for... kinda freaking out," I apologize. Josh hums in acknowledgement, rubbing my shoulder slowly and gently.

"I wouldn't consider such a calm reaction 'freaking out'," he responds. I wrap my arms around his waist in a lazy hug, and I hear his strong heartbeat quicken, my eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. Was he nervous?

"Your heart beat is fast."

"Is it?" I feel his breathing slow down as if to calm himself and his heart, but the breaths are much deeper. I let go of his waist and back up to look up at him through my eyelashes. His hand moves from my shoulder to my back, and he looks back at me with a look I can only describe as desperate.

"Yeah," I murmur. Josh's eyes move quickly around my face as if looking for something, lingering on my lips for too long. The tension is incredibly thick. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Yes."

He slowly places both of his warm calloused hands around my face, his thumb caressing my cheek bone. His mouth hangs open slightly and his breathing continues to deepen.

"I am..." he starts again. His eyes lock with mine now. "Terrified of you." My lips part as if on instinct as he slowly leans in and tilts his head slightly. Our noses touch and he pauses. He's shaking so badly. I can't help but let out an airy chuckle. My own heartbeat was so fast I was waiting to go into cardiac arrest.

"ALRIGHT, FELLAS, YOU'RE FREE TO GO!!" Beth shouts, nearly kicking down the door. Josh and I jump, and I fall off the bed and hit the ground hard.

"Shit!" I hiss, the pain rippling through my body.

"Are you okay?" Josh asks, standing to pick me up. I can hear Beth gasping loudly.

"Shit, we should've just left you guys in here," Hannah sighs. I glare at her for a split second before scrambling for the door, nearly shoving past them. "Jordan, wait!" she calls, but I ignore her. I grab Josh's winter coat, the one he lent me previously, and go outside. Instead of staying on the balcony, I trudge down the stairs and under, sitting in the corner.

For a split second I feel like I am overreacting. But I needed to be alone and out of that room. I hated being trapped, more than anything. Not being able to escape a room, not knowing when you can get out - it's torture.

I'm able to stay grounded with the warmth and smell of Josh's coat. I can't believe I almost kissed him just moments prior, and despite my raging anxiety, I smile. Then I frown. It only then occurs to me that I wanted him to kiss me. I want him to kiss me.

I want to kiss Josh.

I bury my head in my arms and laugh.

----------

Hey y'all, once again I'd like to thank you for your patience. This chapter is really long because it's supposed to be the last day and night before the plot of the game really kicks in, but it started getting too long. Thanks for reading, next chapter soon!

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Taglist: @sc4rrc@mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby@kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest @barnxsromanxff @kapczan

[kurthorton-moving]

I love when kurt does something so fucking stupid u wanna shake him

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

as someone who's been doing deep dives lately into the characterization of both the gang and the oldgang from sdmi, the maxim from @thecottageinthedark that 'you don't join a mystery solving gang without being at least a little bit autistic' has not failed me yet

[maidenvault]

During my last rewatch of the prequels I was actually shocked by how much I've misremembered or decontextualized certain moments in my mind because of how they're often talked about in fandom as showing the Jedi as too arrogant, too bureaucratic, generally just burying their heads in the sand while everything goes bad etc. So I'm gonna try to address every individual scene that typically gets brought up to argue that this is an actual theme in Lucas's portrayal of the Order.

The Council doesn't take Qui-Gon's account of meeting a Sith seriously.

Mace and Ki Adi Mundi do both express doubt this guy could be a Sith. (Understandably! Historically they've never known Sith to be able to hide their existence, and for them to have survived totally in secret for a thousand years is a pretty wild thing for Qui-Gon to be so sure of.)

BUT Yoda admits that the dark side is hard to see, and Mace assures Qui-Gon they'll do everything to find out the identity of the attacker. Later he's ordered to go back to Naboo and try to draw out Maul to discover more. Qui-Gon accepts this and doesn't ask for backup. Why should he? He held his own against Maul before, and Maul's probably not gonna show himself again to face a ton of Jedi. They end up missing the chance to learn who trained Maul because of how things go down, but Qui-Gon's death isn't the result of the Council mishandling the situation.

At the funeral, Yoda says the presence of one Sith means there's another out there. They know they've got to be on guard now and will be, but they've got no more leads for now.

2. Qui-Gon's not here to free slaves.

There's this idea that slavery existing on Tatooine shows the Order is apparently too tied up doing shady things for self-interested politicians (footage not found) to help the people who really need it. But Padme's shocked to know the Skywalkers are slaves for a reason. The truth is there isn't a lot of slavery in the galaxy at this time because the Jedi have helped keep it that way for centuries only by working with the Republic. In TCW we see that Zygerrian slavers have a particular hatred of Jedi because they're literally The Anti Slavery People and did so much of the work to crack down on their trade. But Tatooine is controlled by the Hutts and they simply don't have the resources to start a war with them.

(And honestly, it's crazy how people talk like Qui-Gon's a monster for honestly and apologetically telling Anakin no, that's not why he's here. This is a child he's already indebted to and who has a hero-worshipping idea of Jedi, it would be fucked up for him not to be clear about how he can't help him and his mom.)

3. They doubt Dooku could be behind the assassination attempt.

This I understand shows the Jedi to be a little naive. But they knew Dooku as a good man, and at this point he and his followers are still putting on a show of wanting to secede for idealistic reasons (and a few of them, manipulated by Dooku, actually do have good intentions). Only later do the Jedi learn they're illegally building an army before they've even officially left the Republic and clearly have no interest in the peaceful resolution Padme's been advocating for. And they only find this out because they have Obi-Wan investigate the assassin and this very quickly leads him to Dooku.

4. "Arrogance, yes. A trait more and more common among Jedi. Even the older, more experienced ones."

In context, this line from Yoda is clearly not meant to be taken so seriously. Obi-Wan says he fears Anakin is too arrogant, and this is Yoda's light-hearted way of telling him not to be so hard on him. Part of training a Padawan is learning to trust them so they can grow, and Obi-Wan perhaps needs the reminder that he isn't done learning himself.

Of course Yoda saying this could be partly motivated by them having been caught off guard before by the existence of Darth Maul and the dark side clouding their awareness, as we're told repeatedly throughout the PT they know is a problem. But it's kind of contradictory to take this as confirmation that this is a serious fatal flaw of theirs. If someone acknowledges their own arrogance then they're aware of their ability to be wrong, which means they can't actually be that arrogant. If truly meant in a general sense and not just as a gentle reproof of Obi-Wan, it's a pretty self-deprecating comment coming from Yoda.

5. "If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist."

Chief Librarian Jocasta Nu gives this haughty response to Obi-Wan looking for Kamino, a system that's not in the Jedi Archives. So being so overly confident in the infallible knowledge of the Jedi, he takes her word for it and totally drops this lead.

Except no, he goes to someone older and wiser to figure out what this actually means. And he and Yoda are forced to conclude that the unthinkable - a trusted person among them somehow had reason to erase information from the archive - must nonetheless be what happened. This is honestly an exception that proves the rule: Kamino, and we can assume only Kamino, is missing from the archive only because it was removed, which is so suspicious it just shows he must be on the right track to discovering something. Jocasta is kind of snooty about it but theirs obviously is supposed to be one of the most accurate and complete databases in the galaxy.

6. Obi-Wan doesn't believe what Dooku tells him about the Senate.

For one thing, in this conversation Dooku's lying about basically everything but this. And I can't ever stress enough that Palpatine is a threat unlike anything the Jedi have ever dealt with before, who's already taken control of so much before they even know they're fighting anything, so the idea that a Sith is controlling the Senate would be really hard for anyone to believe.

Still, we know Obi-Wan reports this to the Council anyway. But it's a vague statement and they still don't have any information to act on. Palpatine soon has them very busy putting out fires in the war, and naturally fighting the Separatists who are led by Sith seems the best way for them to get to the bottom of what exactly is going on with the dark side. And they do finally turn their attention to how power-hungry Palpatine is getting once the war is nearly over and they've got the bandwidth for it, and think about what they might have to do if he's the threat to their democracy they fear, but of course he's too many steps ahead of them all the time.

---

So basically, what we see the Jedi being so guilty of in these examples are thought crimes. When confronted with the crazy explanation that happens to be true, their instinctive reaction is "No, I don't think that's possible." And then they do their due diligence to uncover as much of the truth as they can anyway. And Yoda, the Grand Master of them all, is often the first to admit that their first assumptions could be wrong. But Palpatine wouldn't be a good villain if his moves were predictable and he couldn't get an advantage over the good guys - that's just how storytelling works sometimes and it's not that deep.

It honestly felt stupid typing so much of this out because it's 90% just describing what actually happens in these scenes. But I guess it's a lot to ask that people actually carefully watch the films they discuss. 😒

[sharkylass]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

(It's not belated what are you talking about-) With the spooky day I bring...

---------------------------------------

--------------------------------------- There's A LOT OF ART under the cut, however it's A LOT OF SPOILERS.

ESPECIALLY FOR THE ACT 6 ENCOUNTER/TWO HATS, EVERYTHING IN THIS POST IS DEPENDANT ON THE FACT YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT ENCOUNTER.

(The dandelions are frozen in time) (...) (You envy them, but you think that's sacrilege, so you move on.)

The gif takes forever to load, please bare with me-

ALRIGHT, LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO ROBORO.

Roboro (it/they/he) is cold and calculative. It spent so long trying to get out of the loops, that a lot of their tact and bubbliness gave way to their cynicism and bluntness.

They exhibit more of their younger traits. Extreme smarts and avoidance. However, they still carries themselves tall, and aren't afraid to speak their mind. Most of the time, they simply choose not to.

The decision to make him cold and distant, rather then manic and erratic, actually came from Loop themselves. Loop is very actively trying to be the opposite of Siffrin. They act chatty and cruel because that's how far they've been driven, that's how they choose to hide themselves now.

Roboro is the same, in the sense that it's supposed to appear the very opposite of Isabeau.

"Why is it a Dandelion?"

From what I've seen, most people lean on the space idea for the guides, and I find that super neat-

But as an exercise (before this AU was even an IDEA in my mind-) I tried to design Mira, Odile and Isa as guides.

I tried the space theme, and felt really limited with it.

So instead I decided to design them based of ways to wish

Mira was a fire (candle)

Odile was a coin (throwing a coin in a fountain/well)

And Isabeau WAS in fact a dandelion (blowing on a dandelion)

And I guess that idea just stuck around in my brain until I got to making this au.

Their Dynamic With Isa

The two's dynamic isn't too dissimilar to Sif and Loop. Isa still tries to be his loud positive headstrong self, and Roboro sees past the bullshit, and grinds Isa's gears

(Fun fact for that second one: Roboro knew Isa wanted to be called "good boy" cause it probably would have wanted to hear it too-) As time goes on, the two learn to get along if only a little. Isa starts to appreciate the bluntness of Roboro, together with the helpful tips. Roboro meanwhile, seeing Isa's descent starts to feel a spark of empathy for the guy (which sucks for ACT 5 whoops.)

Silver Coin Equivalent

The equivalent is called "Lucky Pencil". Isa is a pretty superstitious guy, despite knowing better logically. So I thought he'd totally be the type to carry around a lucky charm of sorts!

(You recall.) (Before you lost yourself to time, you tried to become a defender.) (You got so tired of being the lone kid, the one people would not see, or think about.) (You were smart, but you were invisible.) (Sure, you were quiet, but you had good grades! You were getting by!) (Even your own family didn't think much of your solitude.) (And yet, you were so scared to open your mouth, to even answer questions you knew the answers to-) (It was hard. Suffocating even.) (When teachers started giving you good grades without you even having to try-) (Something had to change. You had to change.) (And you did! You became stronger, resilient, reliable. Became the very antithesis of what you used to be.) (Left everything you were behind.) (But it was worth it! You could finally!!! Talk!!! You could bring smiles to people's faces! They'd smile when you entered a room! And each time you felt pride. Pride in who you were.) (You tried talking with your family more, being more open, loud-) (They still didn't see you.) (Smart kids turned away, uble to face you, see their fears embodied. Fears that if they wanted to belong, they had to leave their brains for brawn.) (It was better. You were happier. But you still didn't belong, either.) (In hallways filled with people, you were still just there.) (…) (You tried really hard for you Defender exam. You exercised to near faints. Only really ate and slept cause you knew it would make you stronger.) (Buried your nose in reading and studying to avoid thoughts of doubt. And when they'd reach you anyways, you'd go for a run.) (You know it wasn't the best for you. You're supposed to be stupid, not unwise. "Just until I pass" you told yourself.) (… You were exhausted on your exam day. As your nerves heightened, so did your "coping". You were ready!!! You just, needed a little help.) (So you opened your drawer, filled with old papers and textbooks and notes. You don't like looking in there too much, but you took what you needed.) (A beaten up pencil. Your little lucky charm!!! Sure, you always knew the answers, but it was easier if you believed this pencil was helping you, guiding you.) (It was silly to think it would help, but you weren't taking chances.) (…) (Even after all that time, you couldn't leave that part of yourself behind.) (You still can't.) (You're the only one that can't.)

ACT 6 FIGHT

The ACT 6 encounter would... go about as well as you'd expect. Not only did a version of you win- it's the version of you that pretends to be a meat head, the one that's preoccupied with being nice rather then thinking ahead. How did he get to win when you, you who's changed, you who's given everything you had, everything you wanted to simply get out?

Why does he get to win? Why does this loud mouth, emotional, explosive guy get to win? He's learned nothing!---

I have more stuff to draw for this encounter, including the "I'm sorry/ thank you" pictures. I leave this one off with the knowledge that Isa used to tug on his hair as a stress stim. Guess is stuck around huh.

______________________

Post Loops Roboro

Roboro, once again, Changes! This time to resemble a yellow dandelion, rather then a white one. The family is long gone by the time Roboro wakes up again, and first thing's first- It has to find clothes. It doesn't like the weird looks people give him.

So, he goes to the House, braves the looks and gasps and confusion. It's trauma be damned, it's gonna talk to that Head Housemaiden finally.

He meets up with Euphrasie, and she quickly catches on what must be going on.

She's readily willing to give Roboro one of her old dresses-

Problem being- 1. They are too big on it (he may be Tall, but not EUPHIE level tall-) and 2. It wouldn't be the most comfortable wearing a dress around.

So, they figure they should make some adjustments. Euphrasie is willing to make the adjustments, it would only take her a day or two.

However, Roboro kind of... wants to try to do it themselves. There's no rush, it has nowhere to be. Maybe... maybe learning to re-engage with an old hobby could be good for it...?

Euphie excitedly lets it stay at the House, figure out what it wants to do- to take it's time changing!

Obviously, Roboro has trauma from the House. The walls, the cramped space- it terrifies them. But they also don't want to stay at anyone's home in Dormont, the awkwardness would kill him, if feeling like a nuisance doesn't do it first.

So. Roboro stays at the rooftop.

Roboro does some sewing on a new outfit, at the top of the House. At the very end of everything.

It's a bittersweet reminder that it's over, so it's as good as it could get while staying at Dormont.

I have a whole comic about this in particular, but this is already a massive infodump so I'm gonna stop it there for now-

Roboro travels around a while. It and Isa agreed to meet up eventually, but there was no rush to it.

He went around a while, re-familiarized itself with life, with people, with hobbies, with existing-

Probably made some friendships along the way. Those are probably the people who pushed it into reconnecting with the family.

I'm not gonna go into detail about everyone's dynamics and stuff, this is too long, and I'm still writing that stuff anyway.

I can however leave you with this:

(I might change how Post Loops Isa looks in the future, I haven't quite figured it out yet)

______________________

PHEW

THAT WAS A LOT

IT'S NOT EVEN EVERYTHING I HAVE, I HAVE SO MUCH STUFF AUGH,,,

Anyways, I just wanted to thank you all for the support on the first post, I didn't expect it at ALL Just know I appreciate it :]

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about …

𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍!

pairing : deadpool x reader  warnings : groping (receiving from wade), yukio :3, mentions of reader being shorter than wade wc : 1.6k a/n : unedited, and i skipped out a few letters near the end😭

𝓐 = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

very very affectionate! all over you, 24/7, whether it be hugs or kisses. he’s super affectionate to pretty much everyone, whether it’s reciprocated or not, so with a partner, i think things would be 10 times worse (for the better) 💞

𝓑 = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

pff you definitely went from friends to lovers! your landlord had dropped by to tell you that you had a new neighbour opposite you. you were very excited, and before you could even go over and say hello, he was already on your doorstep, box of cookies in hand. he told you his friend yukio made them. you invited him in, and soon became best buds pretty quick! he’s an extremely supportive friend, and while he can’t be there for you all of the time (because of missions and saving your entire timeline and stuff), he tries as hard as he can to! he’s an instant pick-me-up, his humour’s extremely comforting.

𝓒 = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

absolute lovebug! he’s all over you, and prefers that when he's in your presence he has at least a hand somewhere on you. he’s always creeping up on you, only to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on the top of your head. you can expect a hand to be creeping up your shirt as he does so😭

𝓓 = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

settling down isn’t really on his mind at the moment, and he doesn’t expect that it’s on yours. if you ever mentioned it however, he’d be happy to hear you out! you practically live together as it is, so he’s all for you officially moving in! he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook, peter seems to have taught him a few things over time! as for cleaning, he’s not terrible, but he really fucking hates it, so it’s usually blind al who takes up most of the cleaning responsibilities in their apartment.

𝓔 = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he’d probably be breaking up with you if you got hurt because of him, or if he fears he may be putting you in danger :( he’d just be gone when you woke up the next morning, with no warning or any way of reaching him afterward

𝓕 = fiancé(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

not a stranger to commitment, and not opposed to it in the slightest! the thought of marriage isn’t really on his mind, he’s satisfied with you as his girlfriend. it’s not like he doesn’t want to get married, but he can’t wrap his head around why. the only thing that would change is he’d be able to call you his wife (which he does anyways)😭 but if you wanted to get married he’d be happy to comply!! 

𝓖 = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

very very gentle physically! once he’s fully grasped the fact that your injuries do not heal within seconds, he treats you like you could break at any moment😭 emotionally… he’s working on it. sometimes his constant joking was at your expense, and occasionally hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit :( but!! he’s learning to read the room, and he’s getting much better at it!

𝓗 = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

loooves hugs so much. you’re lucky you feel the same way because it would be horrible living with him if you didn’t😭he’s hugging you as much as he possibly can!! he thinks he has some kinda curse so he tells you he can only get any sleep if you’re nestled into his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around your frame. he will always greet you with a hug before anything else!! he gives really good hugs too :3

𝓘 = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

he’s saying he loves you from your first day together! you’re walking back to your apartments after a cute day out and he casually blurts, ‘bye, love you!’ he looks embarrassed after, but it soon becomes an inside joke, and something he says to you regularly throughout your friendship! it was only until he whispered into your ear one lazy morning, ‘i’m in love with you’ did you realise the gravity of what he felt for you💞

𝓙 = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

doesn’t get jealous quick, but when he does it’s bad for whoever else is involved😭they are definitely being threatened by him!! his instincts are usually pretty good when it comes to stuff like that but yours are totally not. you can’t tell the difference to save your life between flirting and a good natured conversation, so his protectiveness can come in handy for you sometimes.

𝓚 = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he kisses anywhere and everywhere on you :3 very often too! hmm i think he really likes it when you kiss him all over his face, although he probably won’t admit it.

𝓛 = little ones (how are they around children?)

very good around kids! he’s not usually the most patient man, but around kids it’s a whole other story!

𝓜 = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings are spent waking up late because you were both up well into the early hours of the morning doing whatever you were doing. mornings are spent groggily showering together as he yaps on and on about god knows what. mornings are spent eating yesterday’s leftovers for breakfast as you giggle over whatever absurd story he’s telling you💞

𝓝 = night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights are spent cuddled up on the sofa mumbling incoherent sentences into his chest as you’re straddling him, while he’s bingeing his favourite show. you wanna sleep so bad, and he’s not stopping you, but you would much rather fall asleep nestled into him than alone in bed! plus, you love when he moves you around while you sleep :3

𝓞 = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he’s very open right from the get go! but it’s harder to teach him to take things seriously :( he jokes about a lot of the things that he goes through, you presume as a coping method, but it’s really not healthy. he’s open to changing though, and slowly does after spending more time with you!!

𝓟 = patience (how easily angered are they?)

his patience is typically very short with most people (the exception being you, kids, and yukio :3) and it doesn’t look like that’s gonna be changing anytime soon😭

𝓠 = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he tries so very hard but m’afraid he’s just not the best at it😭but that’s okay!! he has other strong suits! he remembers the very important things, but he could use some work remembering the little things too :) 

𝓡 = remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

hmm i don’t think he really has a standout moment but if he had to pick one, he’d probably say when you said you loved him for the first time :3

𝓢 = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

sooo protective! he feels that you’re so fragile compared to him anyways, so he’d do his absolute best to protect you in every aspect he can! hmm as for you protecting him.. i think he’d like if you ever made an outward show of affection toward him when someone else was hitting on him in his suit. he finds it super hot :3

𝓣 = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he tries very very hard! sometimes the result of whatever he’s doing doesn’t exactly reflect that, that’s okay!! it’s the thought that counts! 

𝓤 = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

his self-deprecating jokes :(

𝓥 = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

unfortunately he’s really quite insecure about them, it breaks your heart to see that he can’t see himself the way you see him :(

𝓦 = whole (would they feel whole without you?)

no no no not at all! misses you so much when you’re away, even if it’s just for a short while, even when it’s just a day or two, your phone is always blowing up with his messages, he’s constantly checking on you, asking if you’re okay, when you’ll be free to call! it’s so comforting to know that there’s someone out there who cares for you as much as wade does.

𝓩 = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)

he is a very very active sleeper!! you can expect to be kicked in the night😭and probably hear him whispering something random as he’s rolling over, taking you with him. his dreams are so insane, you wouldn’t believe him if he wasn’t basically acting them out as he slept😭

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

Can I get more horndog Nikto pls? Like Nikto legit wanting the reader every way emotionally and physically, becoming territorial of them, and the reader doesn't take him seriously because they don't wanna be another conquest. Sad horny boi lol

HORNDOG!NIKTO FOR MY NIKTO GIRLS.

- He is jealous, it’s pretty much in his Slavic dna to be, so once you show him a bit of affection without strings attached, he gets territorial. Nikto does a lot of questionable things to ensure the recruits know you’re off limits. From standing really close to you no matter what you’re doing at that moment, to literally pressing himself against your body like a horny dog. The creepiest thing he’s done was probably standing in a corner, intensively watching you read from afar. Recruits would get scared about coming to you for advice because he was there, awkwardly staring and they would get chills (he’s just so silly!).

- The first time Nikto got to know your sweet side was when you made biscuits for the barracks and decided to bring some to him too. He was not the type to hang around the base, so having such sweet little thing like you come and knock on his door with a bag of biscuits was very surprising and suspecting on his side. He found you hot, there was no denying, so having many other instances where you would do something for him without asking anything in exchange was starting to grow onto him. You always brushed it off, how possessive he began to be about you, thinking he was just an awkward adult that didn’t get to learn proper socialization, and well part of that was true. You kept brushing his affections off, he was like that and nothing could change him. You knew he liked women, too much for your own good, and part of you did not want to end up as another conquest.

- Many times he grew frustrated of you, because no matter how many signs he gave, you always seemed to not understand, or maybe not care at all. He would touch you, press himself into you, sweet talk to you, yet all you would do is pat his head and crack a joke, continuing with your duties and leaving him there, by himself, contemplating weather he should just give up and leave you be. And truth is he was close to leave you be many times.

- What he didn’t know was that you kinda felt the same, you always found in Nikto a safe place, from the instance you joined KorTac he was always there, sure he was as hard as a rock at the beginning, but you made your way into the small remains of his cold, broken heart. It started strangely, you’ve seen him alone once, back laid on the side of a small balcony, while his gaze was lost into nothingness. It hit you, how he was never around, he was never with the boys, never made attempts to make friends, and part of you knew he was afraid, afraid of scaring anyone. Truth is recruits always feared him, even if he never gave them a reason to. The only person he would get along with was König, and occasionally you’d see him in Horangi’s or Kreuger’s company. His mask was most of the times on, and you started to pity him. Such a poor, lonely man. God knows the last time he felt the warm touch of a woman, and not the touch you feel when the only thing you do is fuck, because he did not lack intercourse in his life, but the loving touch of a woman genuinely caring about him? That’s a whole different story.

- You started small, afraid of coming off too clingy. You brought him biscuits, you always made sure to carry a bottle of water at practice, knowing he would always drink a lot and would remain without one lot of times. You’d pass him your bottle and he’d thank you, almost shyly if you squint. You’d bring his clothes to his room from the drier, your excuse being that you were already there so why not, you’d cook for him sometimes too, well not really, it was just that you accidentally poured too much of this or too much of that and being alone on the base you didn’t want it to go to waste, excuses on excuses that were always working. You always thought he was a bit too silly to understand what you were actually doing, and you were right. He just thought you were constantly friend zoning him.

- It was difficult once he actually accepted what you were giving to him and he wanted more. Ignoring him when he got too needy, when he was too close, when he made advances and all you could do was joke or excuse yourself to another room. Truth is you were scared too because what has started as a small act of kindness towards a lonely teammate, became a lot more, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

- One particular night brought out all the hidden emotions. Coming from a mission was always the best time of the year, week, month, it was just the best time, not only because you were alive, but because you could finally rest and turn your brain off. Well for Nikto it was a yes no situation, he was happy to be alive but coming at the base where he would be ‘confined’ again due to his loneliness, was not something he was dreadful about. This time was just too much, and after what felt like hours of contemplation he just went for it. A soft knock on your door late into the night awakened you, not that you were particularly deep into sleep, since the arrival time from the mission was not long ago, but it woke you up, and you opened, for some reason finding yourself in front of who you actually expected to come. Nikto stayed still, admiring you for a bit, just for you to grab his hand and pull him into the room. You didn’t care anymore, after almost loosing him this many times of the battlefield the only thing you wanted to do was hug him. And you did, he dreamed about this moment for months, and it came so unexpected yet so sweet. The night was spent between kisses and hugs, late talks between two people that were too afraid to fall asleep because of the fear of this all being a dream.

- Actually labeling your relationship with Nikto changes many dynamics. He gets bolder definitely, he’s more secure and shows off more. Being in a relationship with him is giving him access to your privacy also, and he makes sure he takes advantage of it. He shamelessly ravages your panty drawer, sneaks up on you in the common showers, after gym becomes a gig where you’re trying to run and shower and he’s after you saying how hot you look right now and how you should let him bring you to his room first. Sex is something utterly surprising for you, you would’ve not given him half the credits he actually deserved, because he does know how to please you, and he’s avid with it. He’ll be a dog for you, waiting and begging and pleading until you give it to him.

- Ride his face he LOVES it, just use him as your personal seat and he’s cumming in his pants no lie. He’s a sucker for your pleasure, also a big voyeur, he tried to fuck you many times in the main hall, or in the showers, he once succeeded in the kitchen, and oh boy you could not look into the eyes of some of your female colleagues for a week straight. Nikto is always eager to try something new, that’s because he finally has you, his woman, and prefers to do with you all the things he never got to experience. He always told himself that he’d prefer waiting to do certain things only with the woman of his dreams, and there you were finally, ready to let him fuck you up, or the other way around.

- When I call Nikto a dog is because I mean it. The utter loyalty this man has for you is something straight out some romance movie. You’ll start to notice how his eyes are always on you, no matter the surroundings, no matter the circumstances, and the utterly look of an enamored man he gives you always succeeds to make you weak in the knees. He is avid, lustful, borderline possessive about you, like a feral dog that’s protecting the only thing that he ever got to call ‘his’. And don’t get off the birth control, because he brings to the bedroom each and every ounce of possessiveness he shows outside.

[simplygojo]

Another Speeding Ticket

Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.

Spooky Szn Masterlist

This kinktober oneshot includes a Kinktober Prompt request, I hope you enjoy ;) I am getting very smutted out, so I unfortubatly will not be able to complete all of your requests! I will try my best, even if I finish them in November, but thank you guys so much for the support!

Pairing: Cop!Nanami x f!reader

Request: This request was by @aurorascorpio, although I slightly altered it. I hope you enjoy :) The request is linked here for any interested <3

I also included a few other anon requests in this fic, so I hope YOU ALL ENJOY!!! (shoutout to 🐜 !!)

Kinks: Spanking, Overstimulation, Edging, Size, Brat Taming, Breeding & Gun Play

Word Count: 2.2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gun play, fingering, spanking, size kink, overstimulation, breeding, brat taming, aggressive sex.

The sound of your engine roaring down the empty highway was almost therapeutic, the thrill of speeding through the night air intoxicating. 

But as soon as the familiar red and blue lights flashed behind you, your heart sank. Not again.

You groaned, already knowing who it was. Every time. It was always him.

You pulled over, slamming your palms on the steering wheel in frustration, and your forehead followed, leaning against it in defeat. 

You didn’t even need to look in the mirror to recognize the tall figure walking toward your car. 

His slow, measured footsteps sent your pulse racing, not in fear, but in a way that made your body heat.

Nanami Kento—your boyfriend—who was also a cop, and didn’t mind giving you speeding tickets despite your relationship.

Blonde hair slicked back, face perfectly composed and stern, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform almost too well. 

You swallowed as he approached, your heart hammering in your chest. This was probably the fifth time he’d pulled you over in the last month alone, and each time, his scolding made you feel like a naughty child being disciplined.

But this time felt different. There was a tension in the air you couldn’t quite place, an edge to his movements, like his patience had finally run dry.

He tapped on your window, and you rolled it down, biting your lip as his sharp eyes locked onto yours.

“Step out of the vehicle, Miss y/l/n,” Nanami’s voice was clipped, no room for argument.

You blinked, your stomach doing nervous flips. "W-wait, is this really necessary? I wasn’t going that fast—"

“You were going twenty-five over the limit. Again,” he said, his tone hard as steel. His gaze pierced through you, making you shrink back. “Step. Out.”

You hesitated but did as he commanded, heart pounding in your chest. 

The night air was cool against your legs as you stood beside your car, your skirt fluttering slightly as you faced him.

Nanami stood tall in front of you, his jaw clenched, looking every bit the no-nonsense cop he always was. 

There was a certain dominance in the way he towered over you, the stiff set of his jaw making your breath hitch. You could practically feel the weight of his authority pressing down on you, making your knees weak.

“I’ve warned you so many times, y/n,” he sighed, his voice lowering as his frustration bled through. “And yet here you are, speeding again. Reckless.”

“I-I’m sorry, really! I swear this is the last time—"

“No. You don’t get to talk your way out of this one,” Nanami cut you off, his tone sharp. 

“You don’t seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I need to teach you a different way.” His eyes darkened, and before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pressing your front against the side of your car.

You gasped, heart racing. “Wait—what are you doing?”

“Bend over,” he ordered, voice deep with authority.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against your back, forcing you into position. 

You could feel his presence looming behind you, his large frame towering over your bent form. 

The cold metal of his gun on his waist grazed your lower back as his hips pressed into you, and the weight of it sent a shiver through you.

“You’ve been a brat every time I’ve caught you,” he muttered darkly, his hands sliding down your waist, roughly pulling your skirt up to expose your panties. 

“Maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”

The thrill of it all made your thighs clench together, heat pooling between your legs. You squirmed, trying to protest, but he was having none of it.

“Be a good girl, my dear,” he commanded, his voice laced with danger. “Or do I need to use more force?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, already feeling the wetness soaking through your panties. 

“No, sir…”

His large hands roamed over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a sharp slap. You yelped, the sting sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core.

“You like that, don’t you?” He growled, landing another smack, harder this time. 

The sound echoed in the quiet night as you gasped, body arching against the car. 

“You act like a brat, and you’ll get treated like one.”

Another slap, then another. 

The rhythm of his spanking had your ass burning, your legs weak. You were dripping, your panties clinging to your slick folds as he continued his punishment.

Without warning, he yanked your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to the night air. 

Your heart raced, both embarrassment and excitement swirling together in a heady mix.

Nanami’s fingers slid between your legs, teasing your entrance before slipping one thick finger inside. 

You moaned, your body instantly responding, grinding back against his hand. The stretch of just one of his fingers was enough to send a surge of heat through your core, your walls clenching around the intrusion, desperate for more.

“So eager,” he muttered, pleased with the way your body reacted to him. 

“My job is to enforce the law, and teach people lessons when they break those laws…” 

He unholstered his gun, the metallic sound making your pulse quicken. 

The cold barrel pressed against your hip as his fingers moved inside you with deliberate slowness, curling against your walls. 

The juxtaposition of pleasure and danger sent a shiver down your spine.

The pressure of the gun against your skin made you gasp, your body arching against the car. 

He wasn’t rough, but the weight of it was enough to remind you who was in control. His thumb brushed against your clit, applying just enough pressure to have you trembling beneath him.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Nanami murmured, his voice deep and steady, even as his fingers slipped deeper, hitting a spot that made your legs weak. 

“I’ve warned you time and time again, and yet here you are, acting like a reckless brat.”

You whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. But Nanami wasn’t having it. 

He withdrew his fingers almost entirely, barely grazing your entrance as you squirmed in frustration.

“Stay still,” he commanded, the gun now resting against your waist as a cold reminder. “You don’t get to decide when you get what you want.”

Your hips moved on their own, seeking the friction he was withholding, the need in your belly tightening like a vice. 

The absence of his touch left a hollow ache, but his control over you kept you teetering on the edge of submission.

Every time you felt yourself climbing toward release, he would slow down, making you gasp in frustration. 

The ache between your legs grew, your need for him becoming desperate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to beg. Not yet.

His fingers slipped back inside, slow and deliberate, rubbing against that sensitive spot that made your legs shake. 

“Look at you,” he muttered darkly. “All that attitude, and now you’re desperate for me.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to moan too loudly, your pride still intact despite the torment. 

But Nanami could read you too well, knew how close you were.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunted, his thumb brushing over your clit in maddening circles. “I can feel how badly you need it. How you’re shaking for it.”

“Yes…Yes sir” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop it. 

Your pride wavered as the pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling against the car.

Nanami hummed in approval, but instead of giving you what you craved, he pressed the gun harder against your skin, reminding you who held all the power. 

His pace slowed again, the edging cruel as your body throbbed with need.

“Have some patience, my dear” he growled, his voice dangerously low. 

His fingers worked you with precision, drawing you to the edge once more, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink.

Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened, the authority in his touch clear as he held you firmly against the cool metal of the car. 

His voice was low, commanding, as he muttered darkly into your ear, “If you don’t learn, maybe I’ll have to give you something to remember. Maybe putting a baby in you will finally get you to listen.”

Your breath hitched at his words, heat pooling between your legs as the weight of his intention sank in.

His fingers left you aching, desperate for more, and before you could respond, Nanami moved swiftly. 

His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, and you felt the heavy press of his cock against your slick entrance.

The size of him alone had you gasping, your body trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he pushed into you, his cock stretching you wide as he filled you completely in one rough thrust. 

The sensation of him deep inside you made your legs buckle, and you braced yourself against the car, the overwhelming fullness leaving you breathless. 

He was so thick, so impossibly big, that it felt like your body was struggling to take all of him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Nanami grunted, his voice strained with restraint. His hands roamed your hips, holding you steady as he pulled out only to slam back into you, his pace rough and unrelenting from the start. 

Each thrust pushed you forward against the cool surface of the car, your ass burning from the rough spanking and your body tingling with overstimulation.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growled, landing another sharp slap on your ass that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you. 

“Maybe this will finally teach you to behave.”

The sharp sting of his hand contrasted with the deep, pounding thrusts of his cock, and you could barely keep yourself together, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiralling toward the edge. But Nanami was far from done.

He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, 

“You’re going to take every inch of me, and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” His thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight circles that had you clenching around him, desperate for release.

The pleasure was too much, your body trembling as you felt your orgasm build, but Nanami wasn’t giving you the satisfaction. 

He pulled back slightly, dragging his cock out of you slowly, only to slam back into you with such force that you cried out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the car.

“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Nanami taunted, his hips snapping against yours with punishing force. “Breaking the rules like a spoiled brat? Not anymore.”

His pace quickened, the force of his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the brink, but every time you felt yourself teetering on the edge, he slowed down just enough to keep you from falling over. 

The overstimulation had your body shaking, desperate for release, but Nanami wouldn’t let you have it.

His words sent a shiver through you, the promise of him filling you making your body respond in ways you couldn’t control. 

You wanted it, wanted him to finish inside you, to claim you in every way. The idea of him filling you with his sweet release, of the possibility of it taking, had your thighs clenching with need.

“Please,” you whimpered, your pride shattered as you begged him. “Please, let me cum…”

Nanami chuckled darkly, his hand landing another sharp slap on your ass before he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and deep, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur. 

Your body tensed, teetering on the edge once again as he fucked you harder, the pleasure overwhelming as he pounded into you. 

His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing with brutal intensity, and the combination of his size, the stinging spanks, and the threat of being filled finally pushed you over the edge. 

You were practically seeing stars as you felt the familiar sense of pleasure begin to creep up on you.

“Cum for me,” Nanami commanded, his voice sharp as he thrust into you with one final, deep stroke. “Take it all.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you came hard, your walls clenching around him as you milked his cock. 

The intensity of it had your legs trembling, and you barely registered Nanami’s groan of satisfaction as he followed you over the edge, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, filling you with his cum.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he said, his voice muffled as he squeezed the skin on your hips tightly, staying buried deep inside you as he emptied himself, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down. 

“Maybe now you’ll finally listen.”

Your body was spent, your legs weak as you leaned against the car, panting and trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

Nanami stayed inside you for a moment longer, making sure you felt every bit of him before he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless and full.

[atrwriting]

mercy — fem!highborn!reader x davos blackwood

was everyone else going crazy to find out that this man is actually named davos ?? absolutely wild. i refuse to believe it is davos, but alas — i must comply.

someone said that this guy would match your freak and i haven’t been able to unsee it and therefore i compose

as always, warnings: smuuuuuuut, knife play, choking, swearing, switch reader, power bottom davos, my very own self indulgence

____

with your family and several others declaring for rhaenyra targaryen, the one true queen, it led to others seeing women in a different light. a daughter of a highborn family like you would not be trapped to embroider for the rest of your life — unless you wanted to. that was the beauty of choice and what rhaenyra had started — you should have the same opportunities of men in that age, including the opportunity and ability to choose.

and so you did: you chose to fight.

with war brewing, how could you stand by and only wield a needle and thread when you didn’t want to and had the ability to do something else? what, were you going to embroider the war? some battle with red thread? illustrating the rage and fighting of men losing their lives with and against fire and blood? absolutely not. if you could wield a sword instead, and weren’t half bad — maybe that would save someone else from fighting.

and so you did. you started training.

you weren’t half bad, honestly — given your size and age. most men began when they were boys and very small, growing into their strength and work ethic. you could not be blamed for your lack of skill — it just meant that when you could wield a sword against a worthy opponent and beat them, you would gain the respect you deserve.

and you would work for it. you had to.

in order to achieve that, you had to actually find willing opponents. despite the fact that they declared for rhaenyra, that did not mean that other soldiers wanted to face a woman in a fair fight. you tried not to take it too personally — as they would probably fear for your father’s response if you had been hurt. you tried to understand, but you wanted to improve — needed to improve.

however, there was one person that was willing to spar with you.

you rolled your eyes just thinking of the name.

davos blackwood.

there was nothing wrong with him — but he bothered you. got under your skin in a way that no other man could, nor even dream of being able to. he taunted you the first time you had ever met him, and taunted you further towards the first time you had ever sparred with him. you did not mind someone baiting you, but to be constantly reminded of your lack of skill, your womanhood, and the approaching war was a weight on one’s shoulders that a beginner could not always bear the weight of. they would not expect a young boy to withstand that pressure, and didn't understand why davos would expect you to handle it. when that insecurity was opened and showcased for onlookers to see fighting in daylight, it was even harder. you didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to, frankly, haze you — and it’s not like he seemed open to fair or friendly communication.

so you tried to avoid him.

you tried.

you really, really did try… but in the end, he was the only one willing — and you had to learn.

you sighed with reluctance — knowing what you had to do.

when he was alone in the camp you were both staying at, you walked up to him.

“...lord blackwood?” you asked, trying to refrain from using a soft voice.

he turned around to face you, a smirk already growing on his lips. one of his hands was lazily gripping the hilt of his sword, while the other grasped his hip. his shoulders were wide and strong — indicative of how skilled of a fighter he was. you clenched your teeth — hoping you wouldn’t regret this, as you could only benefit. you had to keep reminding yourself of that — a means to an end. that's all this is and would be. it's worth it. you then tried to meet his eyes as the wind swept his brown hair from his line of sight.

if he wasn’t so snarky, you might have found him attractive.

might have.

“yes, my lady?” he asked.

you could hear his smirk in his tone — like he already knew what you were going to ask, and how much you did not want to ask it.

you folded your bottom lip in between your teeth. “...would you be willing to spar with me?”

“i would,” he replied. “you have not asked me since our last. i have some time now — should we find an open space?”

you shook your head. “perhaps this evening... when people have retired?”

he raised an eyebrow, obviously displeased with your decision. “...why is that, my lady?”

“less of an audience, my lord,” you tried to say confidently.

he raised an eyebrow at you. “battles are not won in private, my lady.”

you tried to keep your tone flat, fighting the urge to turn your nose up at him. “i’m aware.”

“so why do you not join me now?”

“i would like to make mistakes once or twice in private — and then i will feel more comfortable where others can see.”

“you would do fine now, my lady,” he spoke, but then dipped his head. “but as you wish.”

you felt dirty after he agreed — you couldn't put your finger on why. the dip of his head — like he was giving into the conquest and silly dream of that of a young girl. a young, naive, innocent girl who would never be taken seriously, no matter how hard she tried — but you couldn't think like that. you couldn't afford to — especially not during the time of war. you swallowed you pride, and waited for your meeting.

he kept his promise. later that evening, when the sun was setting, you finally met him in the sword shed before you intended to meet him in the makeshift arena. you found him sharpening his sword, face being illuminated by the lamp light. you entered the shed.

"good evening, my lady," he greeted, with a hint of grit in his voice.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "good evening, lord blackwood."

"following in your fashion — should we start with something easy? something, say — one starts with at the wee age of — eleven, perhaps?"

“i never asked you to go easy on me — but i would have hoped that after i voiced my concerns as to why i would prefer not to have an audience when i spar with you, you would’ve understood.”

“and — pray tell, my lady, why would i have understood?”

you slapped your sides in defeat, beginning to get frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t read between the fucking lines. your cheeks were beginning to pinch at the feeling of flush. “because it was like you were constantly reminding me that i am new to this and that it was unlikely that i would ever get better!"

he raised his eyebrows then, eyes widening. the smirk was still playing at his lips, as he couldn't help but let an amused chuckle push past his lips — intending mockery. “my intention was to make you better, my lady.”

you shook your head in disbelief, almost scoffing. “i just — it would’ve been nice —“

“nice?” he scoffed, walking towards you then. he approached you with his hands behind his back, but his walk was led by his head, neck, and shoulders. it stuck out at you like he couldn't wrap his head around as to how you could believe or say such a thing. “my lady, there is no nice on the battle field. not only do you have to beat the swords you go up against, but also the men wielding them. i was not nice to you because there is not enough time. you do not have enough time to learn at the pace of a boy, because you are a learning to fight as a woman during the time where another woman is fighting for her crown. you need to be good — for your family, for your army, for your queen — and because i want you to be good.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, sucking in a sharp breath at his words. there stood davos, pleading with you to have confidence in your own ability and skill — despite how he always made you doubt it. you didn't know what to think, let alone believe. “i am not naive enough to believe that the battle field is nice — just forget it, i can’t —“

you went to turn away, but he stopped you. he grabbed you by the elbow, and you immediately turned to face him. within almost an instant, you had stopped his other arm. you shoved his grip down at the same time you pressed a knife to the skin of his neck with your free hand.

you bared your teeth at him, the tip of your nose pulsing into a snarl. there was a dagger to his throat, but nothing compared to the ones you shot with your eyes. your pupils dilated so the only thing in your vision was blackwood and his dark eyes, only focused on yours. both sets of eyes had seen peace and danger, fire and ice —but neither knew the feeling you had when you looked into davos blackwood's eyes and witnessed the exact moment he realized you had been the one to best him. to have his throat at the mercy of your wrist, and have him still smirk down at you — was a feeling that startled you, and excited you.

he pushed against the blade, forcing you to reluctantly allow his head to lower to yours. you could feel his hot breath on your face, shrinking your space. "is that what will make you feel more confident, my lady? — you think you can best me, with a knife to my throat?"

he walked forward, forcing you backwards. you continued taking steps backward when he did not stop. soon, your back was pressed up against a table your lower back had been stopped by. the force of davos' hips collided with yours, pressing you against the table. the plumpness of your ass was pushed into the wood as davos planted himself between your thighs. "is this how you make yourself feel safe? — because even if i am stronger, that does not negate the fact that in a moment's time you could bleed me."

"i could —" you bit — as if that statement was something monumental. as if you hadn't agreed with his own statement. as if it wasn't pathetic.

you watched as he realized that fact the same time you did.

"but will you?" he asked, in a soft, taunting voice.

"i could," you spat again.

pathetic, you spat to yourself in your head. at that same moment, davos smirked down at you.

"there is nothing more enticing than a woman who knows her strength," he spoke, tone threatening to break. "especially against a man whom they both know could end her.”

“testing me, davos?” you spat, nose turning up at him. his smirk wavered when he felt the sharpness of the blade scrape his skin, threatening to draw blood.

“oh — i find myself doing more than that, my lady,” he pressed forward once more, so your noses were almost touching. there were inches — barely inches — between your lips, words ghosting over your skin. his breaths hit your lips with such force you almost believed they were touching. you couldn't let it show on your face — couldn’t let him know he was winning, or that he won. “you want to keep that blade at my throat? be my guest — as long as you let me do this.”

with your lower back pressed against the table and the knife flat on his throat, davos locked you in by placing both of his hands on either side of your thighs. he leaned forward, and he took what he wanted. he took, and took, and took until you were putty in his hands. he held your lips hostage with his own, leaving you at his mercy. mercy, mercy, mercy. you were jailed in his embrace, hating and relishing it at the same time.

your free hand gripped his collar, pulling him into your knife and you. you didn’t even realize you were doing it — or maybe you didn’t want to admit it. maybe you didn’t want to admit that you liked the man who constantly bullied you, nor that you liked the boldness in his smirk before he kissed you.

“you bastard —“ your insult was breathless. pathetic. ridiculous. it made him smile, and it only made your pride and shame swirl in your chest more. how dare he? how could he? “you fucking — !“

“that’s right, my sweet — “ he grunted, pushing your skirts to the side. you felt the cool air hit your exposed thighs, a blush rising to your cheeks. he laughed against your lips before sliding his tongue into your mouth. you could’ve if you wanted to — you so could’ve — you could’ve, you could’ve, you fucking could’ve, but you didn’t want to — you didn’t want to push him away. the knife, still pressed against his skin, wanted to push him away. wanted to cut him. wanted to bring him pain. wanted to get him away — but you? no. your body’s reluctance fell away once you felt his hands slips between your thighs. “hate me — come on — show me how strong you are — show me how much you fucking hate me.”

his thumb was on your clit, sensitive with excitement and anger — never been touched before. his finger drew circles; a long curve on the top of your bundle of nerves, fast when it made he made his way towards the top of the circle once more. long, and drawn out was his torture. he wound you up tight, only for him and at his mercy. he shoved his middle and ring finger inside you, letting the pads of his fingers rub the length of the roof of your cunt. the beckoning motion brought you closer and closer to him, no matter how hard you tried to fight him inside.

“keep that knife at my throat, my lady,” he spat. “let’s see if you can keep a steady hand without drawing blood when i make you cum. — i’m betting you can’t.”

“fuck…” you trailed off off, getting lost in his movements. “f-fuck you.”

“that’s all the brave fighter’s got?” he spat into your ear, making your hair stand. “weak words? you claimed you were of a higher skill — am i going to be the one to prove you wrong?"

you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t. there was no way. it would’ve been useless to even try. your let your neck relax as his lips found the length of the side of your jaw, kissing and nibbling at the clammy skin. he found your pulse point — thumpthumpthumpthumpthump — and sucked the blood from the source, and to the surface. you couldn’t see, but you felt the blood rise to the top of the skin and settle. your blood, your veins, your fucking heart was pounding as it rested at his mercy. his. him. davos. he controlled every part of you — including where your blood moved, pooled, and clotted — and you didn’t know how to feel about it. you were swimming in his embrace, holding onto him for dear fucking life.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried.

“that’s right, my sweet,” he spoke. groaning in your ear, “that’s it. show me. show me how much you hate me. i want that knife to almost cut me when you cum. i want to see the look of hatred in your eyes when you make a mess on my fucking sword hand.”

you couldn’t stop it.

you couldn’t.

it was useless. pathetic. worthless.

your head fell against his strong, broad shoulder and you felt every part of your being lose control. every single one of your muscles tightened. your grip on the hilt on the knife tightened and the grip on his leathers tightened. everything was so fucking tight you didn’t know how the strings inside of you that were wound so tight didn’t fucking snap. it should’ve snapped. it should’ve snapped like the light behind your eyes, blinding white being the only thing you could see. you thought you could hear your own cries, his grunts — but you weren’t sure. your were lost, floating in your own release while his fingers didn’t relent against you.

“so-so sensitive,” you choked out, vision still hazy.

“you think i’m done with you?” he spoke. your strength was beginning to waver, as was your knife from his throat. you could feel the exact moment he realized it. “can’t even keep a knife to my throat at your most vulnerable? how do you expect to fair, yeah? in battle? — shall i get you a needle and thread instead, my lady?"

something inside of you snapped inside you for a second time that night — but this time it was anger. your gaze, aflame, caught his. how dare he? how fucking dare he? with a snarl, you spat, “unlace your fucking leathers, blackwood.”

fire also danced within his irises as the corners of his mouth raised once again. for the first time that evening, you had me davos' fight as an equal match.

you would not back down.

his fingers left your dripping cunt, and he began working at his strings. you struggled to catch your breath as you came down from your high, forcing yourself to regain composure. and, yet — there was davos. smirking. confidently. not fearing the knife at his throat, nor fearing the girl who held it, nor that she was now his match.

his tore his eyes away from you to spit on his hand, coating his long member. though angry, you couldn’t help but grow hungry at the sight of his red, leaking tip. there was no desperation on his face, but davos blackwood had control over his expression. his demeanor. his emotions. but his cock? red and neglected? there was no control. it plunged into your sopping wet cunt, buried in you until the hilt.

your cunt blossomed around him. you felt your walls blossom for the man on top of you. your womb, warm and welcoming, wanted to suck him in and never let him leave. you had never known pleasure like this, wanting even the most frustrating of men to give it to you.

you threw the knife on the ground.

you pressed your flat palm to his throat, curling around it. your squeezed the sides of his throat. your teeth were bared once more, fighting for dominance against the predator before you.

davos smiled, diminishing your resolve.

“there she is,” he spat, smirk wide with his teeth on display. “there’s my fighter.”

"fuck you," you replied.

"good," he responded, before sliding his length inside of you.

that was the thing with davos — showing vulnerability like succumbing to pleasure made you feel weak, whereas davos never felt weak. even in a vulnerable state such as this — this, joining bodies as one, each thrusting their hips against the other seeking to reach their own peak, while also relishing in the fact that you were helping the other reach theirs. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, deliciously painful and bittersweet. even in his most vulnerable state, davos radiated power. there was dominance in his state of weakness and pleasure that was asserted over you, and you had no choice to bow — no choice but to give in.

��you missed me so bad, didn’t you?”

there you were — a light sheen of sweat on your skin glistening with the dim light of the lantern as you thrusted your hips to meet his. there was one firm hand of his, pressing down on your stomach. every time he could feel the thrust of his own cock through the soft skin of your stomach, you witnessed a flash of mischief in his dark irises. a groan collected in the back of davos' throat — building, building, and building until it came out in a growl. carnal. animalistic. untamed, and all yours. you couldn't help but moan at the sound, sending a gush of pleasure swirling around his cock. he glanced up at you, smile being illuminated by the lantern.

“that’s it, my sweet — whine for me.”

and you did. oh fuck, you did. it was all you could do besides let your muscles go taut at the idea of losing all control to the pleasure of the tip of his cock hitting that space behind your clit deep inside you. once more. that's all you needed. once more. one more peak. your pride would understand — you could not feel shame with the feeling of pleasure so electrifying. every crook of your body was hot and clammy — but you didn’t care. you couldn’t care, and neither could he.

“you just want to cum, don’t you?” he asked. “i know you do, yes? — answer me.”

he slapped your your sensitive clit. it sent sparks up and down your nerve endings, making you squeal and jump. you glanced up at him, and immediately connected your gaze with his dark one. his eyes tested you — your pride, your shame, and your being. however, the want and need in your hips was stronger than you — but that didn't matter. that was the strength and fight davos' wanted, and he would lose to.

“i do,” you whimpered, folding your bottom lip into your mouth. your eyes, like a doe’s, pleaded with him through your thick lashes. you thought you saw a flash of pride on his face, but you couldn’t tell. “fuck, youfuckingbastard — please, davos, just a little longer… ‘m so close.”

“ohhh — that right, my lady? yeah?” his gaze was heavy — dark, tired, but fueled by lust. his throat was worn and scratchy, and the thickness of his voice mirrored it. “showing that fight you promised me, yeah? just like i asked? so beautiful and fucking strong —”

"fuck..." you sobbed. your womb was blooming once more, sucking him in farther and farther into you. he welcomed the pull from your warm, wet, and gummy walls — for you had no strength to push him from you, and neither did he.

"shall i spill my seed into you, my sweet?" he asked, chuckling darkly. he cock continued to pound into your throbbing cunt until you could only think davos, davos, davos. your grip on his throat grew tighter — but not because of your anger, but because you could only cling onto something to hold you present. "shall we create the bravest, most dangerous fighter there has ever been?"

his words were beginning to slur together, like ears underwater. your brain was swimming, being pushed and pulled through saltwater waves that wove ropes around your lungs and hips.

"if you dare..." you whined, failing at sounding brave.

"i would dare," he immediately spat, plunging his cock in once more.

your grip on his throat tightened as he spanked your clit once more, sending you spinning. your thighs locked around him, pulling you into your core and trapping him there. it only enraged him — energized him. it was the final fire that spread throughout him to snap his hips once, twice, thrice more into you and spill himself inside you. your peak made you cling to your lover in the lamp light — holding onto him as you both fell forward into each other, clinging to each other.

you had fallen onto his shoulder, seeking rest. his cheek was pressed against the side of your face. his lips pressed a warm, wet kiss on your cheek — and then another onto the love bite he left on your skin. you felt his tongue poke through his soft lips and lick the bruised skin, sealing his mark in. with his dark gruff voice, davos stated, "that is how you best a man, my lady."

"fuck you."

----

so what do we think? love u guys xoxoox - L

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

.

.

Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally 🤭🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural. 

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no'  just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it. 

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror. 

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively. 

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave. 

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!” 

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling. 

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time. 

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror. 

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters

for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace

rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.

It’s rarely accidental.

It’s always painful.

He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.

So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.

Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?

“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.

Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?

“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”

Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?

“Which friend?”

“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.

Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.

And then his hand was gone.

Eddie breathed in, breathed out.

“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”

Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.

“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”

Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.

“You good?” He eventually asked.

“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”

“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”

Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.

“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.

“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.

Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.

“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.

But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.

“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.

“Uh…smoke what?”

“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”

“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.

“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”

“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.

As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?

“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”

Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.

“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.

“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”

Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”

Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?

“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.

“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”

“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”

Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?

“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.

“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.

He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.

“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”

Eddie whimpered.

He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.

But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.

What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?

He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’

Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.

He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-

“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.

“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.

“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”

“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”

Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.

Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.

“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”

“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.

Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?

Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.

Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.

“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?

“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.

“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”

“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”

It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.

“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”

How fucking embarrassing.

Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.

“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.

Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.

There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.

He shook his head at the thought.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”

“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”

“You don’t walk off subspace.”

Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.

“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.

“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”

Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.

“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?

“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”

Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.

“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.

“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like that.”

“We should probably talk about it.”

The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.

“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”

Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.

He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.

Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.

“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.

“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.

“You said we could talk about the weather.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”

It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.

“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”

Eddie started to nod, but stopped.

This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.

He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.

The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.

But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.

Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.

Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.

It was, dare he say, romantic.

Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.

Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.

When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.

Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.

“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”

They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.

They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.

“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.

“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.

“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.

“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”

Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.

“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.

“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”

“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?

“Good. Need you to be alone.”

“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”

“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”

Well, fuck.

Day two: ao3 | tumblr

[prahacat]

#fml#i can't think about him too much lest i go insane#him and his big stupid castle and no-one to share it with#imagine your social life reduced to nothing but horrid powerful people‚ your psychpathic boss‚ your old family who now hates you and your -#- various apprentices that you occasionally fling lightning at but end up caring for anyway#i think that just does things to your brain.#you build up layers upon layers of awfulness with all sorts of fossils inside them#and in the process you get farther and farther away from your core while also putting more and more pressure on it until it boils#which is why i really like the “he'd rather burn them down than allow them to continue to fester“ part#it's so on point#at his core he's a teacher and someone who cares so much but his circumstances compress those traits into something kinda twisted#and boy you're gonna need a BIG excavator to take some of that pressure off#anyway sorry for the ramble and the sediment metaphor but. ughh this guy#he really gets my little brain gears grinding#meta#count dooku#rael averross#qui-gon#UGHHH (prev tags by @rochenn)

May I ask about your Star Wars fanfics? I wanted you to know I really enjoy them to read on my off time!

May we know your opinions/ headcannons on Dooku and Qui gon's relationship?

How was there dynamic during there early years?

Do you think deep down in when dooku is alone in Sereno, asleep he dreams of seeing his old padawan one last time?

This lyric comes to mind I added on to it.

"Alone and forgotten, i never thought he'd look at me again, but he smiled at me, and I held him.. just like I used to do. Like I used to when he was scarred as a child. Or maybe he was holding me?

Holding me to the light as he used to hold me and look at me, those eyes so full of hope and admiration"

You may absolutely ask me about my Star Wars fics! Thank you for reading my stories! (I swear one day I'm going to finish off those WIPs, aaaaaaaaaa).

Caveat that I'm not as active in the fandom these days (on a bit of Star Wars sabbatical), but I do feel (and I'm someone who melds Master & Apprentice, Jedi Lost, and Dark Rendezvous into canon as I see fit) that in contrast to Dooku's relationship with Rael (which was surprisingly casual, especially as Rael aged. This, if I may be allowed a small tangent, is probably a combination of Rael's aggressive form of charm and Dooku's inexperience and youth)

...but anyway, in comparison to Dooku and Rael, there's this...distance, on the surface, that Dooku keeps from Qui-gon. Their relationship, at least the trappings of it, is more formal, their roles more defined. (This being said, anytime Rael pops by and the three of them are together, those neatly constructed walls start to crumble). This doesn't mean Dooku doesn't care about Qui-gon. He cares, deeply. But as we see in Tales of the Jedi, Qui-gon's apprenticeship years mark the true beginnings of Dooku's disillusionment with the Jedi Order and his slow fall to the Dark Side. And I think part of this detachment from Qui-gon (even as he shows a ferocious protectiveness over him) is, in part, Dooku trying to shield Qui-gon from his more insidious desires and actions. (This backfires, on more than one occasion, when Dooku chokes the crap/lightening attacks/otherwise manhandles out of various enemies who were either threatening his Padawan or were obviously part of the bloating corruption that was metastasizing across the entire Republic).

And to get back to their relationship, we have Dooku being a little more standoff-ish. A little older, a bit more bitter, in general. And young Qui-gon is less outwardly brash than Dooku (at least when he was younger) and Qui-gon is definitely intimidated his new Master. (Although he respects him as a teacher and while Dooku is an exacting, demanding instructor he is also always fair. Whatever his personal troubles are, Dooku is never anything less than a damn fine teacher).

So yes, Dooku cares. Qui-gon's death had no small part in his eventual choice to join the Sith and I have no doubts whatsoever that he dreams both of Qui-gon and Rael regularly as he lies alone in that gigantic, empty bed on Serenno. (I think Dooku, as much as he was trying to manipulate Obi-wan in AotC by bringing up Qui-gon's name, was also being completely honest with Obi-wan in that moment. Actually, he was wholly honest with Obi-wan that entire scene and got shot down due to - at least as Dooku would have seen it - Jedi indoctrination).

And it's this caring that helps to bury Dooku in the end. Caring about his Padawans. Caring about the Republic. About Serenno. About the Jedi. For a man that is so stoic and proper, he is passionate and invested in the future of all the different organizations and governments and societies he's tasked with defending (to the point he'd rather burn them down than allow them to continue to fester). But more than any of that - the Jedi, the Republic, Serenno - Dooku is a teacher. A teacher who is instructing in an intense, one-on-one relationship that puts him in the position of half-mentor/half-parent. We see it when he and Rael embrace after meeting again years later; we see it when Dooku asks an adult Qui-gon for information about this Sith, to protect Qui-gon; we see it when Dooku is forced to turn on Ventress; we see it when he tries to recruit Obi-wan again and again (and, for the record, does not kill him in the bridge scene in RotS when he easily could have crushed Obi-wan with that platform).

This is all to say Dooku cares. And that, to some degree, was exactly the problem.

[sim0nril3y]

Deployment

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.

One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?

“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”

There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.

“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”

Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.

Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.

The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning.  “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.

Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”

“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.

A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”

The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.

He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It’ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”

It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.

Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…

A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…

Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.

It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”

For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”

John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”

“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”

Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024

[sugurouge]

— call her my obsession : ghostface! ex boyfriend! endo yamato x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, mask kink, slight stalking, hunter/prey, possessive topics, lovesick endo, lots of praise, marking, biting, public sex, pet names (doll, good little thing/ thing, darling, bunny, princess, sweetheart, he rambles), dubcon, yandere themes, slight strangling&asphyxiation, hair pulling, remnants of conditioning, toxic relationship, cunnilingus, rough sex, manhandling

summary: endo would do anything to please. even if you have scratched him out of your life months ago, he would never give up on the person he loves that easily. when will you learn that he lives to make you happy? maybe if he brings your wildest fantasies to life, you will let him in again. in the end, he is nothing but hopelessly devoted to you

wordcount: 2.8k | my kinktober masterlist

a/n: this is my piece for the tokyo station ghostface collab! i hope you will enjoy <3

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

It all began at a silly Halloween party. You showed up dressed provocatively, in a skin-tight black bodysuit and a laughable excuse for cat makeup, topped off with a pair of fake ears. It looked cheap, but in the best way possible, a pair of icy blues noted with amusement. His brave little bunny hiding in cat clothing.

Throughout the night, you felt his presence, like a chilling gust of wind that made shivers crawl down your spine. Yes, someone was watching you—someone hiding behind a rubber white mask. You saw many of those masks that night, but he stood out. The tight fitting black turtleneck, muscular build, gloved hands. Everything made him look too hot to be at this shabby party. 

He knew you were watching him, lusting after him. You were probably halfway gone the moment he first touched you. Strong hands hovering over your hips as you swayed to the playlist's songs. Despite the booming of the music, your pathetic little mewl rang through to his very core. The tremble of your glossy lips told him all about the dirty thoughts that were racing through your pretty mind.

Naughty little thing.

How dare you leave him alone on the dance floor after eyefucking him as much as he did you? Of course, his desires were hidden better than yours. You were an open book, playing hard to get like the princess you are as your heels carried you through the crowd. Yet, that longing gaze over your shoulder was all he needed to keep following you. He could almost smell your arousal. The thought of your wet pussy made him salivate, his sharp canines digging into his bottom lip to keep him grounded. 

He had to focus; he couldn’t lose you now. 

Not when you finally made it outside the abandoned house, moonlight casting you in an ethereal glow, making you look like an angel.

But where are you taking him? Why are you so certain he’ll follow you? 

With only one goal in mind, your feet follow the pathway until you reach the edge of a little forest. You can’t help the curiosity that screams at you to just give all this a try.Those scenes in horror movies that make you unconsciously press your thighs together, make you bite your nails until your company pointed out your adorable reactions. It was embarrassing back then, realising that such twisted scenes turn you on, and even more so, the wish to be chased for once. You never expected this to actually happen. 

So this is all your own fault. Because of your stupid social media and movie obsession.What kind of idiot would actually want to play catch in the woods with fucking Ghostface? With a stranger of all things. Your ancestors would be so disappointed. 

It all seemed like child’s play, until actual fear settles in your bones. Until your heels make your escape harder, getting stuck in the dirt or caught on roots again and again. You have to take them off if you want a fair shot at this game.

The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding, each shadow seeming to stretch out, eager to swallow you whole. Your breath quickens, heart pounding in your chest as you venture deeper. The moonlight barely pierces the dense canopy above, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.

The game has turned dangerous, as adrenaline surges through you. The echo of your pursuer's footsteps grow louder, closer. He teases you with the cracking of branches beneath his heavy footwear, he must have an easy time stalking behind. “Sweetheart, where are you bringing me?” His raspy voice rings through the trees, as clear as if he were to stand right behind you, looming above your smaller frame like a starved wolf. Your mind races, torn between the intoxicating excitement and the creeping terror as a pathetic whimper seems like your pathetic answer to his question. You have fantasised about this moment, but reality is far more intense. The fear is real, and so is the man chasing you. “I thought you wanted to play with me as much as I wanna play with you, bunny~” 

How dare you try to get away from him?

Maniacal laughter echoes through the woods as Endo watches you stumble through the dark, refusing to speak with him. Are you really that scared?. "Stop trying to run from me," he warns, impatience starting to lace his voice. "You were such a good little thing, got me all riled up. Now let me catch my reward."

The forest seems to close in around you, shadows dancing and whispering secrets. His footsteps grow louder, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot mixing with your staggered breaths. He revels in the chase, the joy of witnessing your fear, and the promise of what comes next.

"I want the woods to hear your pretty moans, all for me," he nearly moans the words himself, tearing off the Ghostface mask to see better. His crazy blue eyes lock onto you, the moonlight illuminating his face, twisted with a mix of lust and madness all for you to see. 

You stumble upon the initial scare, heart pounding wildly in your chest. How? Why? Out of all the people in the world. “No backsies~” Endo warns, as you lose sight of him in the trees. Anyone, anyone but him. You hide behind a tree, eyes heavy from the tears you were fighting back now spilling free. The forest, once a place of curiosity for your dark fantasies, now feels like a trap. And Endo is closing in on you. 

It’s an eerie atmosphere as silence holds your body still like a ghostly embrace. You are too scared to speak, move, or look. You should really keep an eye on your surroundings, but your eyes remain tightly shut, tears seemingly unending as they ruin your makeup and taint your cheeks.

The stillness is unbearable.

Until Endo reaches you. His strong frame overwhelms you in an instant. Somewhere along the way he rid himself of the constricting sweater, freeing his heated skin to let his signature tattoos greet you. The sudden proximity of his body wraps a blanket of intense, nearly unbearable heat, around you. It battles the stark contrast of the chill that clings to your skin. His hand grasps into your hair recklessly, yanking you back until you stumble into his broad chest. The tattoos that snake along his arms are suddenly around your neck, his fingers pressing into the delicate skin, constricting your breath. Endo hums cheerfully, his sugary voice vibrating against your ear as he whispers, "Found ya!" The sweetness of his words contradicts sharply with the crude actions that follow: he presses you against a tree, his teeth biting into your shoulder, nibbling along your neck. His canines break your skin with ease as his nails dig into your hips, to perfectly hold you in place.

He arches you into the tree, your ass out for his cock to rut against while he abuses your skin, littering it with love bites. "Fuck me, you smell so good, pretty thing," he murmurs while shamelessly inhaling your scent, just as sweet as he remembers but now laced with fear. “I’ve missed you so much, you can’t imagine…”

Deep, raspy moans of your name and filthy mumbles a haunting symphony of his deep love. 

He can no longer contain his excitement. The need to have you, to feel you, to taste you again reigns over him. Endo's large hands run along your outer thighs before moving to the inner ones, his fingertips teasing your overly sensitive skin. Greedily, he cups your pussy in his palm, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. Oh, he loves how much you leak because of him. He has no other choice but to rub in just how much your body reacts to him. 

You fulfil Endo. The pathetic cry that escapes your lips? Heavenly. The plea of his name? Delicious. And the nimble fingers trying to push against his strong hand? "Fuck, you’re so cute," Endo whispers, his voice lovesick. 

But enough playing around. Enough hiding from him. Endo focuses back onto the task ahead, onto the flimsy bodysuit you’re wearing. Which is, by the way, so easy to tear, to conquer what he needs, just like that: His fingertips dig into the fabric between your thighs and the harsh ripping sounds have you jolt awake, have you pull away from his grasp like a spoiled brat—he hates brats.

"Stop putting up a fight," he murmurs, "You asked for this."

The sharp sting in your scalp is a brutal reminder of your place as Endo yanks your hair once more, pulling you back into his grasp. Your head rests on his shoulder, his crazed gaze locking onto your widened eyes, fear evident in your pretty pupils. Two fingers pump deeply into your cunt, scissoring your walls to prepare you for his own twisted desires. "Look at you, clinging to my fingers like a cockhungry little monster," he chuckles, relishing in his own words and your ashamed reaction as you struggle to maintain eye contact. 

"Why don’t your pretty lips beg for me as well?" he whispers into your ear before his teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "Beg for me to fuck you out in the open. Beg for me, come on, pretty girl, I need you to tell me how desperate you are for me right this fucking moment." His eyes widen with excitement, a manic grin spreading across his face, making him appear almost unhinged—yet, to you, insanely hot? 

His maniacal love brings back memories you repressed. No matter how sick his affliction was, it filled you like nothing else. And now that he’s back, Endo will make sure he never messes that up again.

This is all you wanted, isn’t it? The hunt, the chase, the inevitable claim of the prize. You nod quickly, lips pressed tightly together before they part again, though you can’t stop grinding against him like an animal in heat. "Please, fuck me, take me, I’m all yours, you won, I really, really wanna—" Your pleas are cut off by a high-pitched moan as he thrusts a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back from the intense stimulation, but a sharp spank to your arse drags you back to reality.

"Didn’t say it was enough—go on," Endo urges, his eyes searching your face, desperate for praise. "Can’t think of anything but getting fucked by you tonight. Please, please, please, I need you!" Of course you do. And he needs you just as badly. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to make your sharp tongue forget how to form words, how to make you chant his name like a prayer. The sounds falling from your lips fuel his madness, his eyes frantically searching yours for every scrap of affection you can offer him in this obscene display.

Your back meets the rough bark of a tree as Endo lifts your legs effortlessly, placing them on his shoulders as he kneels before you like a man devoting himself to his goddess. You barely have time to catch your breath before his mouth is on your pussy, his head buried between your thighs as he laps at your folds with fervour. His tongue, hot and insistent, drags along your puffy lips before pushing against your throbbing flesh, circling your clit with maddening precision. His groans vibrate through your body, and you clench your thighs around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging violently at the roots—just the way he loves it. He savours the shivers running down his spine, the tightening in his gut, the aching weight in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane, doll," he moans into your pussy, his teeth grazing your clit until you jerk, too sensitive yet craving more. You could never get enough of him. Why did you even bother breaking up with him?

"‘M so close, can’t take more, Ya-Yamato~" You gasp, but he won’t let you falter now. You can take more—just a little more of his love. The pain you cause by pulling his hair only spurs him on, driving him further into his frenzy. Until you’re trembling against him, your legs shaking around his head under the relentless patterns of his tongue circling your clit. Your increased volume drives Endo to the brink of madness.

"God, bunny, you taste so fucking good," he mutters into your folds, the vibrations of his words adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans are like music to him, a symphony he could listen to endlessly. His fingers slide back into you, curling to reach that perfect, gummy spot inside while he devours your slick like a man starved. He pushes you harder against the tree, his free hand roaming your thighs, tearing your bodysuit further apart for easy access to everything he craves.

This is his reward, his obsession—his twisted love made flesh. And you, trembling and whimpering under his touch, are exactly where you belong.

You’re rutting against his face, pulling him deeper into your pussy, thighs squeezing around him, muffling his groans as your moans echo through the dead forest. Just as the crest of your release approaches, he suddenly pulls away, and your feet land on the ground. His palm meets your puffy cunt with a sharp, stinging slap, pushing you over the edge with a burst of pain. You tumble into his strong chest, fully engulfed in Endo, surrounded and protected by him as you come undone in the palm of his hand.

"Good little thing, playing so well with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice a mix of praise and possessiveness. "You deserve to be fucked until your legs give out, leaving a trail for all the perverts to lick up on your way home." He inhales your scent deeply, arms holding you steady as you teeter on the edge of consciousness. You’re halfway gone, lost in the aftermath of your release, so it’s no surprise you don’t register the sound of his zip being undone.

Endo manoeuvres you like his personal plaything, turning you around with a practised ease. A flat hand between your shoulder blades pushes you forward, but he doesn’t let you fall. He’ll always hold his princess up. His biceps flex as he snakes an arm around your waist, positioning you perfectly to slide his needy cock inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, drowning himself in your scent as he thrusts deeply, each push driving you forward in his embrace. Your body jerks with the impact, on the verge of giving out.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, his breath staggered, drawing out each word as he battles his own exhaustion. "You know I’ll make any of your wishes come true, no matter how fucked up." Another harsh thrust nearly drives you into the tree, but Endo pulls you back, refusing to let you drift too far from him. He will always hold you as close as possible. "I’d do anything for you," he rambles, his voice thick with devotion. His brows furrow in concentration as he leans back, his eyes raking over your subdued form.

His hands grip your upper arms, his thighs spreading you open as his hips bounce against the soft flesh of your arse. He’s so close—so fucking close. Mumbled adorations spill from his lips, "My perfect girl," and hushed "I love you"s pouring into your fucked-out mind. He doesn’t mind your muted responses; not when your walls clamp around his cock with every word of praise. His beloved is tired, after all. "Gonna cum inside ya, fuck, I’m so close," he groans, his breath ragged, moans raspy. The heat of his breath and the drops of sweat the only sensations grounding you while he fucks you with growing desperation.

Endo's movements slow down for him to only grind into you once his neediness makes a return. "Let me hear it again, pretty thing, tell me." His voice is a desperate pant, needing your words to anchor him. Perfectly conditioned, you remember what makes him fall apart in the palm of your hand. No matter the bile biting your throat upon the messy memories you hold for him, you give him what he needs. "I-I love you, Yamato, I love you, can you cum for me, please?" you pant, your voice trembling.

His eyes roll back, a near-maniacal grin spreading across his face as his head falls back to gaze at the bright moonlight above. "Don’t have to ask me twice, doll," he promises, and with a final thrust, he finally lets go, freeing himself from the pent-up need that consumed him.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[starlinehoney]

cw: fingering, male sub, humping, innocent!art, slight religious themes, reader is very sexual and art is very virgin, art thinks of Patrick while with you which could mean nothing. Took inspiration from @artdcnaldson and her virgin!art au.

NSFW under the cut

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I love innocent!art I DONT CARE IF ITS CANON

Art had never touched a girl like this before. He’d kissed them, and sometimes they’d touch him through his shorts, but he was always too nervous to go further. From the way Patrick talked about it, he didn’t know if he was prepared. He doesn’t know how to be assertive or dominant. He likes to be sweet, he likes to be.. taken care of.

Of course, he’s watched porn. He’s seen the girls who step on guys and spank them and make fun of them, but that’s just porn. And he’s honestly not sure he wants that either. He just wants to make whoever he’s with feel good, and he.. hasn’t exactly learned how to do that.

But you.. you showed him a whole new world. You were like some sort of sex goddess.. you just knew how to take care of him. You knew exactly what he was thinking— you let him just.. explore you. You were perfect.

He’d liked you for a while now, and you weren’t exactly shy about how you wanted him. So one night, you finally got him into your apartment. It took some puppy dog eyes, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t resist.

Just as he feared, you’re immediately on top of him, kissing him with such.. need. He’s never felt that before. Most girls are always hesitant.. more slow, cautious movements. You just immediately took over, and that made the blood rush straight from one head to the other. He felt lightheaded, and your lipgloss was so sticky and you smelled so good.. he was overwhelmed and fidgety, you could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“…are you a virgin?” He hears you mutter against his lips. He pulls away slightly as he watches an almost wicked grin grow on your previously sweet looking lips. He blinks a few times at the question. What does he say to that? It’s embarrassing. You know the answer by how he flushes from the tips of his ears down his neck, and somehow, your smile only grows.

He sees how you slightly bite your lip. He can’t help but think you’re a little too excited by the idea of him being a virgin— the look on your face reminds him of how Patrick looked when he found out Art had never jerked off. The face of someone who was about to change his life.

“have you ever touched a girl before?” You ask sweetly, softly. There’s an almost motherly tone to your voice, and it makes his head all fuzzy. He shakes his head after a moment, stuttering out a small “no” as he bats his long eyelashes up at you. He’s so hard it hurts, and all he can focus on his how you’re pressing against him while straddling his lap. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so they just rest at his sides. He wants to touch you, feel you, worship you.. but that’d be too much, right?

He feels your hand touch his own. God, they’re probably all gross and clammy. Now that’s all he can think about. He’s about to start a small apology for his nervous state when he feels his fingers press against something warm and wet. His eyes flit to where his arm leads and he sees his hand underneath your skirt. “You want me to—“ he asks, seeming almost concerned. But when he looks up, you just.. nod. So simply, without a care in the world. And suddenly, he can’t remember why he was so nervous. You’re here..you’ll teach him. You’ll take over where Patrick left off.

He feels around and stops when he hears you make a small noise “was that bad?” He asks ashamedly, but regains his little dignity when you frantically shake your head. He furrows his brow slightly when you tell him to keep doing it, but does as you ask. You’re the expert.

He runs his slender fingers over the raised area over and over and over, eyes trained on your face as he watches you lose your composure. “Inside— put them inside.” You say as you hold back a small moan and he nods, searching eagerly for your entrance. He runs his fingers over the slick skin and finds it rather quickly, slowly inserting his middle finger. He moans at the feeling just as you do— it’s so pleasant inside of you. It’s soft and warm, and so.. close, you’re constricting around his finger like you never want it to leave.

He begins to feel around there, too. Pressing against a particularly squishy spot that piques his interest as you grind on his palm and his lap. He feels himself getting more and more warm, and he feels an all too familiar knot building in his stomach.

Guilt creeps in as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. You haven’t even touched him and he’s about to soil his boxers. How pathetic. Not to mention all he can look at is how hot you look like this. Flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, your boobs in his face. There’s a soft light coming from your desk lamp that shines through your messy hair, and he swears that you’re a god, or an angel.. or something. You can’t feel this good, and look that way, and be.. a person. People have flaws, but you’re just.. perfect.

Your moans get more frequent and loud, so much that he can now hear you over his own whimpers and whines. He wants to tell you to stop, to avoid the humiliation of cumming in his pants. But you feel too good, and he can’t resist the thought of cumming with you. It’s like an obsession now, it keeps replaying in his brain and he has to have it be his reality.

He hears you chant his name and give him a quick warning of your impending orgasm before planting your lips back on his. He whines into your mouth as he tips over the edge and you groan as you do the same. You’re humping against eachother like dogs in heat, and there’s something so beautiful about how you made eachother feel so much with so little.

As you come down, he’s still humping against you, despite the encroaching overstimulation. He wants to feel you as much as possible. You smile “does that feel good?” You ask in that motherly tone, regaining your composure with impressive ease, and he stops like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He flushes and mutters soft apologies into your shoulder, letting out a pathetic whimper when you tell him to keep going.

He learns a lot that night..

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.