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beardysuits · 2 months ago

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Closer to Dad

Tim, a scrawny and pathetic idea of a son wants to get closer to his dad. However, with nothing in common, he finds it will be a lot easier to just take over his uncle to be able to spend some time with his old man.

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I can’t remember the first time I felt like I just didn’t match the expectations set out for me. Honestly it’s been for as long as I can remember. My dad had always wanted for me to be this strong football player who could throw a punch, catch a ball, knock a guy to the ground with ease. But, I couldn’t even finish a season of T ball, delved into fantasy books, and well, ever since I was at least 6, knew that I was gay.

My dad however, wasn’t too keen on how I had turned out. It wasn’t outright homophobia, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes when I would quit another team sport, or couldn’t do a pull up. I tried to relate to him as best as I could, trying to share my own interests, but I could see his eyes glaze over at every attempt. It seemed like he would find every excuse he could to join my Uncle Rob to go fishing, see a game, etc. Rob lived just down the street, so he would frequently come by to see my dad and watch a game in my dad’s man cave. I joined them a few times, but got bored very quickly every time, and honestly, dad seemed more annoyed to even have me there.

It was after years of trying to just talk to and relate to my dad, and seeing him only want to do that to his brother that I grew to become pretty jealous. I just wanted the relationship that Rob had with him. That was when I started to see how I could possibly achieve that. I always loved fantasy books, but by the time I hit my teenage years, it was magic specifically I wanted to really do research on. I thought I could transform myself into the dream jock son my dad wanted, or force him to like what I liked. But something that really caught my eye was the idea of body possession.

See, Rob was the kind of guy my dad liked to hang around, and the kind of guy I wanted to be. He was muscular, beefy, with a thick dark mustache that just oozed masculinity. My dad was in a similar camp, being a past athlete, but had let himself go a little bit in the past 20 something years. I thought, it would be even harder to make a connection with my dad, than it would be to just take over somebody who already did that for me. I had scoured all over the archive of books I had found in musty old shops until I found not a spell, but a potion which could help me.

It required a lot of items which I wasn’t sure how to even find, but after months of scouring and plenty of determination, I had brewed it. Now, the only thing left to do was hope that it would work. It was early Sunday morning, before the sun had even risen when I decided to make my move. It was going to be another game day for my dad and Rob’s favorite team, so Rob was sure to come by later, and hopefully, it would be me along for the ride. Rob’s house was only a ten minute walk from ours, and I knew exactly where the hide-a-key was.

After unlocking the door, I crept up the stairs to Rob’s bedroom, and lucky for me, the door was already wide open. I was stunned to see Rob laid out on the bed, full naked and exposed. I had seen most of Rob’s body before on lake trips or when he got too drunk with my dad. But this… this was amazing. He bushy armpits were on full display, and the treasure trail of hair stemming from his burly chest led to a mountain of fur which rested right above his girth cock. Even soft, it was thick and hung to the side, larger than mine probably could even hope to be.

I could feel myself licking my lips as I crept in to the bedroom, my heart racing in fear of any noise awakening him. It was once I was standing at the foot of his bed, I let out a large sigh of anxiety and began to strip down. Unfortunately, the potion required for me to be completed naked so I could slither my way into Rob’s body. As I stood there naked, I looked down at myself and saw my lanky frame, practically showcasing each of my ribs, my arms holding barely any substance besides skin and bone. I took out the vial of potion I had brewed and uncorked. Slathering myself with it, I could see my skin becoming slicker and shine. The final bit was my head, as I coated myself in the slime.

I cleared my eyes, hoping I could see more clearly as I shook the nerves off. Leaning on Rob’s bed, I crept up to his legs and used my finger to find his hole. I figured this would be the easiest form of entry, as the mouth would most likely wake him up too early. I couldn’t even hear Rob’s snoring anymore, only the pounding of my heart as I began to lube up his hole with my middle finger and softly press the tip inside. Rob snorted, freezing me in place. I looked up over his belly rising and falling, seeing his eyes still closed.

I pushed further my finger sliding in almost effortlessly by the time my knuckle had gone in. Becoming more brave, I tried the same with my index finger, this one going in even easier. I introduced more and more of my fingers into Rob’s hole, stretching it out like it was a rubber band. Rob made no indication that he even noticed the penetration happening to him. Soon enough, my entire hand was inside, and I could feel the warmth of Rob’s body encompass it. I was becoming impatient, wanting to finally get all of myself in Rob. I took my other hand and hooked my fingers round the edge, stretching him out.

I could see inside of Rob, like he was nothing more inside but a dark, damp cavern for me plunge myself into, and I was ready to dive. This was the part I was most nervous about. I hyped myself up, taking a few short breaths, before shoving the crown of my head in. I held my breath, not sure if I would even be able to breathe until the process was over. Soon enough, my whole head was inside, and I had to find a way to maneuver my hands to slide them in alongside. After a bit of wriggling, my arms up to my shoulders were inside, leaving behind the imagery of my body from the chest down hanging outside of Rob’s hole.

It was pitch black, and felt just as humid and wet as I had anticipated. I found that with difficulty, I could still breathe somewhat, but clawed myself forward, making sure to not hurt Rob in the process. Without the help of my hands, Rob’s hole had tightened once more and I struggled to pull more of myself inside. Surprisingly, what I found to the hardest part, no pun intended, was getting my own cock inside of him. I had become rock hard at this point, and given how slippery I was, and with little grip to go off of, I had to force it down to slip inside.

Once it had, I had almost cum just from the rush of sensation as Rob’s warmth overtook my dick. The rest of my body should be easy at this point, as I shimmied myself upward until the only draft I could feel left was on the soles of my feet. I had balled myself up trying to make sure all of myself could fit, but once Rob’s hole had clenched once more, I found myself encapsulated by him. It as almost cozy, and I could feel Rob’s heartbeat surrounding myself, still blissfully asleep. I could only assume that the potion had numbed him as well, making him entirely unaware of his nephew lodged deep inside of him.

I had to work quickly though, as I had no idea how long he would stay asleep. That, and I wanted so desperately to feel his hands become mine, his powerful legs, and his massive cock to slide over mine. I adjusted my feet, squirming them down Rob’s like they were a pair of leggings. Despite how much weight he had on me, it was a tight squeeze getting each toe into place. I could almost feel them lock into place as the individual digits took hold. I did the same for the other leg, and despite not being able to see anything, knew they had taken hold.

My arms were next, reaching out as best as I could to place each of my scrawny, withering fingers into Rob’s thick ones. Despite being almost half a foot shorter than him, it was like my body had elongated to fit into his perfectly. Thankfully with Rob’s arms raised in relaxation, all I had to stretch up like I was reaching for a pull up bar. My chest locked into place shortly after and all that was left was my head. I said goodbye to my old self, not sure how long I would be staying inside of Rob, and pushed my head upwards, feeling a tightness as his neck squeezed around me.

I felt my scalp reach his, but it was like a barrier blocked my face when I tried to push it forward. After maneuvering around a bit, I found what felt like the inside of Rob’s nose, and pushed mine into it. It was easy to find the spots at which his eyes were, but my mouth struggled. I could feel something thick in front of my mouth and I used my tongue to feel it out, as no other part of my body could be used anymore. It was then I realized it was Rob’s tongue stopping me. I tried to position it the same way I had with the other limbs and found it was almost like a glove. I slipped my tongue inside of it, like my own was using Rob’s as a sock.

The moment the tip of my tongue reached his, it was like my body wasn’t mine anymore. Rather, Rob’s was. My first instinct was to open my eyes, and upon doing so, I was looking up at his bedroom ceiling. (NSFW Version Here)

I looked around without moving a muscle and took in the view. There was no way this was real, right? I mean, I literally slathered myself into Rob….? I moved my arms, finding them almost falling in a rush with the added weight I wasn’t used to. I forced them up, feeling my chest and tracing my fingers through the dense forrest of hair Rob had proudly shown off so many times before.

“Whoa…” I uttered, before slapping one of my hands over my new mouth. I sounded just like Rob! I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Testing, testing,” I spoke, the familiar baritone of Rob’s voice rumbling in my throat.

“Holy shiiiiitttt….” I hissed, loving the sound, manipulating Rob to say whatever I wanted. It was so fucking hot, forcing him to my will. I could feel my dick pulsing in my… stomach? I glanced down and practically jumped off the bed when I saw that Rob’s cock was still limp to the side, while the imprint of a throbbing cock was pushed against my stomach.

“What the fuck!” I yelled out, my hand shaking as I reached down and poked at it. The moment my finger touched the imprint, I felt a shiver of pleasure mix with the panic as it coursed through me. That was definitely my dick still not joined with Rob’s. Fuck me! What do I even do about that. I took a few deep breaths, trying not to let the panic overtake me. I took a trembling hand, and grabbed my cock, seeing if I could move it. Sure enough, it still slide around, like it was inside of me just below the skin.

Cautiously, I pushed it downwards, grabbing Rob’s dick with my other hand. Okay, I had practiced putting on condoms before when bored, how much different could this be? I pushed my own dick downward and guided it through to the base of Rob’s. After poking around it, I found what felt like an opening and pushing it forward. My own bulge pushed through Rob’s, forcing it to harden and grow. It felt fucking amazing, like I was…. I don’t know, fucking myself?

After pushing my dick as far as I could, Rob’s cock was at full mast, and instinctively I knew they had assimilated. It was a rush of ecstasy as I I could see Rob’s dick at full mast, even thicker and longer than I could have ever dreamed. I was gripping it with his, I mean, my name hands. It was beat red, and what I assumed was my precut dribbling down the shaft. I pumped my hand up and down, moaning to myself, getting loader with each stroke.

Holy shit I was jerking off as Rob! I sat up to get a better look at myself and noticed the wall mirror across the bed from me. I had a front row view of Rob as he looked himself in the eye and pumped his fully erect dick. In the reflection, I could see a glistening around his hole. Some of the potion must have still been left behind. I used my other hand to grab a small glob of it and lathered up my dick. It was so fucking slick and my hands glided over it. I felt phenomenal, stroking my dick, pinching at my new nipples, and panting at myself. I stuck my tongue out and begged with my eyes, asking to please let myself cum.

I reached the end, and felt a blast of cum rush out from my new balls and sprayed myself in a thick coating which must have been a combination of Rob’s and mine. It was like I was lathered up all over again as I let my hand drop to my side and admired the view of my once strong armed and militant uncle lay there drenched in his own cum. I rested my head back and sighed in relief, loving the feeling of the new me. I hoped that I could stay like this forever.

The possession must have taken longer than I realized though, as the sunrise was almost complete, the beams of sunlight making me shine even more. I stood up, almost falling over with my new weight. It was going to take some getting used to. Rob had left a towel by the side of his bed, and I wiped myself off, not bothering to shower. I was going to have plenty of time with this body for that later. I walked over to the pile of clothes I had ditched when I got here and the satchel I left behind. In it was a bright pink jockstrap with a silky finish in the pouch.

When I knew I was going to possess Rob, I made sure to buy this for myself in what I hoped was the right size. I stepped in, almost falling over once again, and slid the pouch over my knew balls. It fit perfectly, a the silky finish of the fabric was like a second, or rather third, skin. I stood in front of the mirror once more and admired my body, flexing for myself, sniffing my new armpits, and jangling my bulge. I had to leave for my dad’s place here in a bit, so I found a pair of jeans Rob probably never washes, and a jersey of his and my dad’s favorite team. After I had dressed myself, I did one more look over in the mirror.

“Hey Jim, how’s my lil bro doing?” I asked, trying to imitate Rob to the best of my ability. That part was going to be rather difficult, but I think I’d manage. With one final wink, I picked up Rob’s keys and laughed my way out the door.

#male bodypossession #male possession #body possession #male takeover #gay bear possession #uncle #uncle possession

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shunsuiken · 1 year ago

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HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK

pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader

genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)

wc. 400-800 for each character

an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg

kaeya alberich

after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.

but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.

he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.

your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.

you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).

kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”

you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.

kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.

“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.

kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.

“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.

diluc ragnvindr

he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.

“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”

after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.

“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.

they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.

you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.

“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-

“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.

“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.

you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).

diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”

your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.

(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)

diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.

zhongli

zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.

the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.

zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”

your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you.

“oh—!”

zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.

looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.

“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—”

“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.

you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”

“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.

“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.

this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.

for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.

childe

he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.

childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.

childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.

childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.

scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ‘borrow your attention’ for a moment.

you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).

“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.

childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.

“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.

“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.

you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.

childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”

kamisato ayato

by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.

it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.

“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.

ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.

“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.

he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.”

“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.

you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.

ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!

the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…

“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.

“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.

your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.

thoma

thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.

when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.

there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.

his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.

“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.

“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.

“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.

the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).

you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.

“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.

after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.

above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.

as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”

tighnari

a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).

“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.

a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.

“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”

tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.

you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.

a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”

“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out!

he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?

he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.

“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”

“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”

“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”

tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.

he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.

it appears that all his worries were meaningless.

kaveh

the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.

“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!

“went to… birthday party… drinks…”

that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?

kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.”

when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.

“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.

after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.

“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.

“you don’t understand.”

“what don’t i understand?”

what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!

kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”

“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!

“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”

“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.

why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.

you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.

“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap.

“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”

kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!

“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.

his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.

the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…

“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.

a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.

he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”

wanderer

wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.

you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.

that’s alright. wanderer can wait.

the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.

the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.

he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.

“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.

“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.

you’re fucking drunk.

“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.

“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.

“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”

talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”

wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.

you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.

“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.

#kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #thoma x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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thewulf · 9 months ago

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, ��You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Can you do a batfam x baby bro reader? Where Bruce puts reader in a Batman onesie and it was cute and when they boys see it they all start fighting, which turns physical quick, over who’s costume reader should wear a onesie of next

There would be murder in the manor anon, not just a fight. Couldn't find a gif with a Batman onesie so have this baby hippo. Also, a short fluffy story for melting hearts.

Summary: Bruce buys (Y/N) a Batman onesie. It ends up in a fight.

Warnings: Brothers fight for their baby bro.

It was started on a Saturday morning. Alfred had to go to the grocery store and Bruce decided to tag in. (Y/N) was too and Bruce thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to take (Y/N) with him. Alfred didn't oppose to it and (Y/N) needed to see a little bit more about the world.

And that's why Alfred, Bruce and (Y/N) were in Target just browsing for groceries. Bruce and (Y/N) in his arms were just walking around. Bruce stopped at the clothing department. (Y/N) had a lot of onesies, but what caught his eyes was a Batman one.

Bruce smiled at that, walking to them. He took one, showing it to his (Y/N).

" What do you think? Should we buy it? " Bruce said and (Y/N) started laughing. " You got it. " Bruce said, adjusting (Y/N) in his arms and started walking back to Alfred.

" Hey Alfred, what do you think? " Bruce asked, showing him the onesie. Alfred chuckled, pushing the cart.

" This will cause a fight back home. " Alfred said and the two started moving to the register.

" Oh come on. It's just a onesie Alfred. " Bruce said and Alfred shook his head.

" Say that to them. " Alfred said, waiting to be checked out. " I mean, why would they fight over a onesie. "

" Because they love their brother very much. " Alfred pointed out.

" I know, but still over a onesie? "

" Master Bruce, they will fight. Trust me on this. "

They came home 30 minutes later and Bruce quickly changed his son into a Batman onesie. Alfred quietly shook his head at the sight. He loves his grandson, but this was going to be messy.

After 10 minutes, everyone started pilling into the kitchen. And each one stopped, starring at their baby brother. They would usually run up to their brother, pick him up and just kiss his head.

(Y/N) was the anchor of the family and the brothers wanted to protect him and kill for him.

" I'm sorry, why is he wearing a Batman onesie? " Jason asked, pointing at his baby brother.

" Why not? " Bruce retorted and the brothers started glaring at each other.

" He should wear a Robin one. " Damian said and that has started a big argument. Bruce glanced at Alfred who just smirked in response. Jesus Christ.

It was all kind of good until somebody threw a first punch. Bruce had to step back, but the four brothers moved to the living room, away from (Y/N).

" Hey! " Bruce yelled out, but he wasn't heard at all. The tornado of four boys continued outside to the garden. There were grunts and one of them is going to end up breaking something.

" What have I done? " Bruce asked himself. (Y/N) just watched in wonder tilting his head in wonder.

" Interesting noises huh. " Bruce talked to his son, who giggled and reached for Bruce's nose.

" Yeah, I know. Alfred, holding him while I make sure that those idiots don't kill one another. " Bruce said and Alfred took his grandson gladly.

" Master (Y/N), I have told him so. " Alfred said, listening to Bruce yelling. He shook his head at his other grandsons. " Hopefully, you will be more calm than them when you grow up. "

(Y/N) just started giggling.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #fluff

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sunshineandspencer · 5 months ago

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heyyy!! idk if you take requests or anything but I was listening the song “Three Letters” from She Loves Me and heard the line “If it weren’t for your endearing letters/ I’d be flying south will all the geese” and totally thought of Garcia signing up Spencer for a lonely hearts thing (as a kinda joke kinda not) and so he starts writing the reader but don’t know it’s each other. then they agree to meet somewhere and realize it’s each other and?! idk if that makes sense lol thought it was cute though

Three Letters (Request)

A/N: Hello!!!! I definitely do. I just haven’t had the chance to sort it all out (colds and farming sims own my life) but let me tell you this idea has me kicking and screaming. I’ve done something like this before but I can’t find it for the life of me and I love the idea that they’re writing to each other and just don’t realise - I took it as the sense that they’re co-workers and Garcia signed them both up, not expecting them to get each other. I really hope this is what you were looking for!! Also I have never heard of a lonely hearts thing (I’m British) but I love the idea of it, and hope that it’s definitely what google told me it is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Garcia is tired of Spencer being single, and if the only way to fix that is to sign him up for a singles pen-pal society, then so be it. While she’s at it, let her add their other co-worker as well, there’s no way that could have any impact.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fluff, implied sa but nothing detailed

be added to the taglist

Some part of him knew that this was a good thing, that talking to someone and hopefully getting a relationship out of this was a good thing.

However, Penelope - loving, caring, thoughtful Penelope - had been hard at work ever since she met him to find him somebody to love. It.. hadn’t gone well, and that is the politest possible way he could’ve phrased that without hurting her feelings.

First there were the dates, with a collection of either Penelope, JJ or Elle’s friends - none of which had turned out great.

In fact, one woman had stormed out the minute she saw him, because she assumed that FBI agents were all muscle and Spencer was the last thing she wanted to see. Another zoned out every single time he started talking, just humming or nodding until even he realised that she wasn’t interested.. she fell asleep in her damn salad. The final straw, however, was the woman who got outrageously drunk and tried to blatantly ignore his aversion to touch.

He got out of that as soon as he found her friend to get her home safely, and swore off ever trusting a date from any of those three women ever again.

Penelope, however, didn’t give up.

Her next plan of attack started online, with dating websites. Notorious in their line of work for usually being full of catfish and UnSubs, and many dating websites led to men and women being murdered. But she’s insistent, and he’s desperate to love somebody.

There are only several things that went better than his first foray into the online dating scene, and one of those is a vehicular fire, which tells you all you need to know.

Several of the women he matched with ended up only looking for someone to help them cheat on their significant others, many of them married. Which made his bright outlook on love slightly dimmer. The final woman from the online dating websites was the woman who turned out to actually be an UnSub - looking for cute young men to complete her ‘collection’, a human version of an antique doll set.

It was not a fun case to take part in, certainly not when he was greeted with the way he would’ve turned out had he met up with the woman and not done a background check on her first.

After that, he firmly shut down Penelope’s insistence on dating apps as well, his technophobia had barely survived having to use a computer for so long, and the library computers were an embarrassing place to try and match with the ‘love of his life’. So an app on his phone. Absolutely not.. he doesn't even know how to do that.

There was a break, a few months where Penelope didn’t try to push him into anything new or exciting, or downright horrifying. He turned twenty-four, he had a failed date with JJ, in which she actually bought along Penelope, and suddenly it all changed.

In his letterbox a couple weeks after that, was a letter. It had his home address on, but not his name, merely addressed to whoever this may concern.

It was gorgeous craftsmanship, a cream envelope with an actual lilac wax stamp on the back, with little flowers pressed into the wax. Of course, assuming this was an incoming case, he called Garcia to try and trace it, where she finally came clean.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I signed you up to a lonely hearts club. It’s a small society for two single people to exchange letters anonymously so you can get to know each other over time. It’s all handwritten! I thought you’d like that more than having to use a computer again. I’m sorry pumpkin, I- I can take you out of the society if you like?”

He thought about it, he actually thought about it so long that Penelope actually thought he’d hung up on her, or died, or something else entirely because he’s never this quiet.

But.. how bad could it really be?

It could, theoretically, be terrible, but it can’t hurt to try one last thing. He would have contact with whoever this is - he’s assuming a woman from the handwriting and the care gone into just the envelope alone - and if it all goes to hell then it just wasn’t meant to be.

One last try at love, he can grant himself that. Anonymously, he can do that, give himself a pen name and try to fall for words on a page - his written word was always better than his verbal flirting anyway.

As it turned out, however, he didn’t need to give himself a name, she’d given him one already.

“Hello sweet thing! Sorry if that comes off as too strong already, I’m just incredibly nervous and didn’t know what else to call you, so that is officially your name from now on. Unless you hate it, then you can absolutely tell me and I promise not to cry about it. I really don’t know what to say, do I start with my favourite things? Well.. I like Doctor Who, and I’ve always--”

The more he read of the letter, the more he wished it was even longer. This woman, wherever she is, whoever she is, is starting to make this out as the best idea Penelope has ever had.

He all but crashed his way into the stationary store, grabbing the prettiest envelopes and pens, and little details to add to the letter that he was so excited to add. Steamrolling through the store and getting back home to quickly respond. Instantly realising he was being far more.. poetic than he meant.

It was the combination of the childish excitement of having a penpal, his mother reading him love poems as a child, and his extensive knowledge on love letters.

Hell, he even ended his own letter with a Shakespeare quote. Basic, he knows, but it’s hard to think of anything beyond wanting her reply.

“‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ Yours, Sweet thing.”

It had been nearly three months of exchanging letters, and he was absolutely smitten with this woman. They had stuck to the rules and not given away any of their information, only talking about the things they like and eventually writing nearly daily.

It would be daily if it weren’t for the useless postage system.

He knows that she lives pretty close to him, he knows her address, plus they’d both admitted to searching each other’s houses, and they’re only about twenty minutes away by car.

That’s it, however, they haven’t looked for the other person despite being desperate for it.

They had described themselves through letters, but both ultimately agreed to just talk and see how it goes and base their furthering relationship off that rather than off their looks. Of course, that just sprung up more worries that he won’t visually be enough whenever they finally meet.

Meeting was, by far, the one thing he both wanted and dreaded.

This woman, who he had only ever addressed with a barrage of cute nicknames and poetical references, who understood his every word and reciprocated his nerdy obsessions and added her own.. he wants to know her so badly.

There is a very big underlying fear that the minute they meet, it’ll be over, the magic of what they are will fade and he’ll lose all this. The thought of her letters being sent to someone else physically pains him.

Penelope, ecstatic that one of her ideas had finally worked, had been badgering to meet with his ‘mystery woman’ for weeks now.

Finally, when she also, tentatively asked to meet with him for Valentine’s Day of all days, he knew she couldn’t deny her a single thing. Not when she sent with her letter, a coupon for flowers on their date.

A date. God.. he has a date for Valentine’s Day.

Not really a holiday he’s ever put much thought into before, but now it suddenly felt like the most important day that had ever existed. And one that came up far sooner than he expected it to.

Even with the place booked - a cute little café a little ways between both their apartments - and his outfit picked, and a card and little teddy picked with the help of Penelope, he didn’t feel ready. Perhaps it’s the lingering fear of rejection the minute she has to deal with him in person, or the fact that his last dates certainly didn’t go well.

Even with Penelope’s reassurance that she’ll adore him, especially after she actually read through his twelve page letter after she’d asked for his opinion on Egyptian mythology. Sending back her own absurdly long letter with a bunch more questions and her own fun facts that she could remember. He’s still absolutely losing his mind at the thought of having to finally meet her.

He got to the café about half an hour earlier than he needed to, wanting to make sure it was perfect (definitely not because he would’ve gone insane at home).

Spending whatever time it took for her to arrive making the table look nice, messing with his hair in the reflection and wondering if it really was getting too long. Constantly fixing his tie, and redoing it a hundred times over and tucking into his maroon cardigan sweater which Elle had called ‘dorky’.

Once it got to fifteen minutes before their date should’ve started, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, immediately rushing to get up and turn to meet his mystery writer. But.. it’s just the waiter, asking if he wanted another drink.

Jesus, they probably think he’s been stood up, and he quickly asks for another glass of water.

As the man walked away, he ran his fingers through his hair again, looking towards the door - he’d been sat with his back facing it or else he wouldn’t have stopped staring for fifteen minutes.

Immediately, someone was looking at him, a vague sense of recognition swimming across her face. For a few split seconds he thinks it could be her, a beautiful woman with a bouquet of purple lilac blooms in her hands, but then he realises who it is, offering a small wave.

She’s friends with Penelope and, by extension, he’s spoken to and interacted with her quite a few times. They got on pretty well but never anything more than that since she’s always busy, part of the FBI’s CSI unit, and she’d even helped on a few cases before. But she isn’t here for him, she can’t be.

Walking over, she gives him a bright smile, eyes darting to the empty table and three empty water glasses - he’s been here for a while.

“Spencer! Hi! It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, I like the outfit.”

Looking down at herself for a few moments, she grins and then looks back up, doing a quick spin and then settling him with a mock-serious look.

“I’ve got a hot date, Penny said he would like this.”

“You look beautiful, don’t worry.”

Ahh, there goes any chance that she’s here for him, offering a smile and reassuring her that she looks great, eyes darting behind her to the door as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Eventually sucking a deep breath between her teeth and looking back as well.

Which got his attention, especially when she looked around the rest of the café with a confused look on her face. Sighing softly and looking around, his date wasn’t here, may as well help her.

“What does he look like?”

Turning back, she offered him a bashful smile, but she wasn’t going to turn down his offer of help, not when he’s tall and can see over all the stupid tall people around the café. Also.. it’s a very weird thing to explain.

Moving a hand to fidget with her necklace, his eyes focusing on it, vividly remembering her letters.

“--honestly, I have the coping mechanisms of a child. I still play with my necklace when I get nervous.”

“I don’t actually know, it’s sort of a blind date. Really hard to explain, Penelope kind of set us up in a way. I’m actually about fifteen minutes early so he’s probably not even here.”

There is.. no way this is happening right now. She’s still looking around the café for her mystery date, who might just be standing in front of her and he.. doesn’t know what to say or how to get his tongue to pick up from the base of his mouth.

Suddenly, and pretty violently, he’s flooded with the personality of the woman he’s been talking to for months, all of it projected onto her in front of him. It matches, from what he remembers.

The vague descriptions, her proximity to the FBI building, the fact she knows Penelope, the little TARDIS pin he’d seen on her lanyard that he never got the nerves to ask her about. Turning up to a date with a guy she doesn’t know, holding a bouquet of flowers that clearly weren’t for her, causing the flower token in his back pocket to start burning.

Fishing it out and stepping closer, getting her attention, surprised eyes snapping up to meet his at his sudden proximity. Until he took her hand and shoved the handmade coupon into it, her breathing immediately coming in short as they both looked down at it. Her voice trembled slightly.

“Oh~ hello sweet thing..”

“.. hello.” At his soft voice, she looked up and she gave him a completely bashful smile that matched the cute little poetic ramblings she’s been obsessed with for months. “Uhm, are those for me then?”

They both looked down at the flowers in her hands and she handed them over, feeling her heart shoot up into her throat as their hands brushed. Pointing at the purple lilac blooms as if he wouldn’t already know the meaning.

Needing to focus on something other than the fact that she’s going to kiss Penelope Garcia hard on the mouth for this.

“They uh- they are usually given to someone you meet for the first time, and signify the first emotions of love. Kind of love at first sight- not- not that I’m saying I’m in love with you, that would be a crazy thing to say on the first date- absolutely crazy--”

He eventually shut her up, leaning down to peck her lips softly, all nerves and panicked rambling dropped to just look up at him, in utter awe. Okay, maybe she can fall in love with him, she’s already halfway there with a month of letters.

Carefully, he guided her to their table with a hand on the small of her back as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and also he’d just kissed her to shut her up, and it worked.

“It’s fine, I love them, really. And Penelope was right, as your date I love the outfit.”

“Thank you, I love your sweater and-- ohmygod--”

As they sat down at the table, she buried her face into her hands, causing him to panic slightly, reaching out to carefully touch her shoulder. Saying her name worriedly as he set the flowers onto the table.

But she just looked up with a soft whine of embarrassment, peaking at him over her fingers.

“I called you my hot date to your face! That’s so embarrassing.”

Instantly relieved that it wasn’t anything he’d done, easing into a soft laugh and leaning back in his chair after squeezing her shoulder.

“It was cute! You didn’t even know who I was and you still called me hot.”

“It’s mortifying, you’ll never forget it and use it in your wedding vows or something.”

Sure, she was joking, but in the back of his head he filed something away for the future. A tiny, mental box, labelled ‘wedding vows’, wondering how long it would be until he could actually use that.

Until then, he’d have to stick to ordering dinner on their first date.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides @peachsodameg @angelinajolie0213 @jiggly-puff-12 @khxna @kennedy2156 @trulycayla @none-of-your-bullshit @alexxavicry @meg-black @princess76179 @khxna @chicken-fifi (if your tag is here and it doesn't work, check your settings to see who is allowed to tag you or this might not work)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #request #fluff

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grandlinedreams · 6 months ago

Text

|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok

|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️

|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers

He doesn't know why he's here.

No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.

Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.

There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.

Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.

The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.

Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.

Is that a bell?

Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.

His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.

Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?

"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."

It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."

"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.

Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.

"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."

Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."

You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"

Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.

"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.

"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."

Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.

"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."

You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."

You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.

Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.

"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."

The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.

"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."

Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"

"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."

Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."

You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."

Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."

You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.

Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."

The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.

You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.

"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."

Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.

The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.

Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.

He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.

"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"

"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.

"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."

Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"

Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.

"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."

And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."

A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"

A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."

ㅡ

The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.

You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."

He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"

You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."

Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.

"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"

Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.

"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"

Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."

#ㅡmine.#fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #now to get the norm thing done for Lexis!!

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indianamgc11 · 10 months ago

Note

“makes me want to wreck you.” from the prompt list woth ethan landry 😇

eyes on you

a/n: hello! i wrote this with the intent of making a pt. 2, so lmk if you would be interested in that :)

warnings: cursing, mentions of weed and alcohol, touching, mentions of blood and the tiniest bit of violence, fighting, implications of sex, talking of body parts, ethan x f!reader (lmk if i missed any)

word count: 2,665

summary: reader and the group attend the frat party, but ethan and reader have their eyes, and minds, set on something else.

You never have really been a fan of parties, let alone frat college parties. But Chad had convinced you to go along anyways, saying you needed to “get out more.”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun! Maybe you could find a piece of eye candy to snack on.”

He laughs at his own comment and flexed his muscles in the air, jokingly referencing to himself, earning a playful eye roll and a sigh from you.

“Fine, I’ll go, just don’t try to find somebody for me, that didn’t go too well last time.”

You remember back to the last party you went to with the friend group, where Chad attempted to hook you up with a guy who ended up being some 30-year old freak who passed by the party scene, thinking he could get away with a girl or two. Chad ended up getting into a fist fight with the creep, leaving himself with bloodied knuckles and a red slap mark on his face, and the guy with a broken nose and a black eye. That was the last party you had gone too.

But you wanted to try again, seeing that you wanted to join this sorority with Tara for a bit, and figured that a party would be a good start (hopefully).

It was later in the day and you were getting ready with Tara in her room. Her, Sam, and Quinn were your roommates, and Sam wasn’t too fond of the “social gathering” that Chad had been talking about. She’s been very paranoid about letting Tara go out alone, or to any crowded event, since the recent Ghostface killings in your hometown of Woodsboro, California the previous year. Even with Chad saying him and the remaining friend group would be going, Sam still turned the idea down. Nevertheless, you and Tara still planned to go to the OKB party, you currently adding lavender body glitter to yourself while Tara was finishing pulling her hair up.

Tara is dressed as a pirate, while you were dressed as a fairy, sort of. Having a shimmery cropped top with feathers around the edge of the upper half, and a glittery skirt to go with it. It wasn’t a kiddy costume, but wasn’t an attempt to pick up any guys, they’d all be drunk or high anyways.

Quinn was, occupied, in her room with some guy you both didn’t know, so she definitely wasn’t going with you two. Instead she was going to cover for you both if Sam questioned your absences when she got home.

You both turn your lights off and shut your bedroom doors before leaving (so Sam might think you were sleeping), then shut the front door and started heading downstairs. Neither of you spoke a word, the only sounds to be heard were from your shoes hitting the floor and the air conditioning in the building. You did this just in case you ran into Sam, which was unlikely, but just for good measure. You make it out of the apartment building and join your group of friends, walking down the busy streets of New York. The sidewalks of the roads, and now the campus, are quite crowded, seeing various costumes on many bodies, including many Ghostfaces. You’re bumped out of your observations, literally, when you see a familiar face.

“Hey, Jason!” Tara says, glad to see her friend.

“Are you and Greg coming to the OKB party?” You ask him as you and Tara both stop to talk with him briefly, pointing behind you.

“Yeah, if he ever finishes his Spanish project.” Jason responds.

He continues to talk with Tara rather than you and asks if Sam would be there, seeming to take an interest to her. They finish conversing and you catch up with your group. You make it to the house, lit up with flashing lights, tables holding many plastic red cups and bottles of beer with lots of people around. You walk inside and are immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and many lit joints, which isn’t very surprising. You lose the friend group you arrived with, being left with Tara. It’s hard to hear nearly anything except for the loud bass of the music, and clips of conversations from everywhere you go. A course someone is taking, how Subway messed up their sandwich, or just plain horny college students at a poor attempt to start something up. But seriously, get a room.

“I’m gonna go find Chad”

You say to Tara, but end up nearly yelling for her to hear you, needing to repeat yourself. She gives you a thumbs up before you both wander off. You eventually see Mindy and her girlfriend, Anika, on a couch on the opposite side of the room. Anika has a pumpkin cropped shirt on with some blue flared jeans and a bucket hat, her legs over Mindy, who was dressed simply, but you could tell she was going for a simple costume look. You just couldn’t squint your eyes enough to see the same on the corner of her shirt. Your eyes lead you to Chad, who was without a shirt, but had a large cowboy hat, jeans, boots, and an obnoxious cowboy belt. Next to him stood his roommate, Ethan Landry.

Ethan was newer to the group, not always around but still present. You’ve known him for about 6 months, and within those 6 months slight came feelings for him. He was cute, really cute, having fluffy, curly black hair, plump lips, and eyes that could break your soul. You’ve always wondered how he doesn’t have any girls going after him. I mean, why wouldn’t they? He was also a typical nerdy guy. Being cute and a little dorky you thought was the perfect combination.

You walk over to the pair and see them both take a shot, but Ethan spit his back out into his shot glass. The guy wasn’t a fan of drinking, either.

“Hey cool kids”

You say to them sarcastically referring to their costumes, specifically Ethan. He smiles at you.

“Hey, y/n/n, you did come! I’ll bet you’re glad you did, huh?”

Chad says, nudging you with his elbow. You shrug your shoulders at the scene, looking around to the same wildness you saw before.

“Eh. It’s more of your scene definitely.” You shouted.

You look back to Ethan and scan him up and down, eyebrows knitting together, forming a guess in your head as to what he’s dressed as.

“I’m a knight from Murder Party.”

He says lightly to you, having that no one has been correct when seeing his cardboard costume. You nod your head and make an “ah” shape with your mouth. He then leans in so he can hear you better, and vise versa.

“A fairy? That’s not really what I thought you would go for,” He says closer to you.

“It’s what I got on short notice. Better than that stupid attempt at a sexy nurse or something. Also surprised that you got that.” You shrug.

Chad disagrees with the statement, but you nudge him in the side. You notice Ethan’s eyes linger on you every moment or so. Not to say you didn’t either. You never really noticed it, but the guy had muscles. He was wearing a plain long sleeve blue shirt underneath the cardboard, and even in the dark, his arms were defined.

It was hot. He was hot.

But that’s not something you would ever admit. Nobody had a clue, not even Tara, that you had a developing crush for Ethan. But you couldn’t help it. You were around him a lot of the time, and your eyes could just never seem to look somewhere else. Like at another guy.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Anika approaches you three.

“Big guy. You’re needed.”

Chad glanced at you with quick worry along with Ethan, as you three follow Anika to the scene of some older looking guy dragging Tara up the stairs, mumbling something to her. You and Ethan make your way through the people gathering around to see what’s going on. Chad approaches the guy with a fake smile on.

“Hey pal. No private tours for this one, mkay?”

“Sorry bro, didn’t catch that.” The guy, Frankie, says, clearly drunk. His eyes were slightly glossy and his speech was slurred together, his eyelids drooping a little as well.

“Yeah, bro, you did. Tara’s good down here.” Chad says irritated.

Tara chimes in saying she wants to, followed by Frankie drunkenly agreeing with her and began dragging her by the arm upstairs, Tara’s expression turning from happy to discomfort, a tinge of fear evident. Chad grabs Frankie by his shirt and yanks him to ground level. Ethan quickly put his hand around your arm and pulled you back a little. You’re a bit surprised at his action but don’t try to pull away, leaning back to him. His fingertips were warm on your arm and his hands were soft. And you never realized how large his hands were. Pushing you once again from your thoughts, before Chad can show the guy, Sam comes in out of nowhere.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, I’m just gonna taze you in the balls real quick.”

She then electrified Frankie and he fell to the floor screaming at Sam.

“Fucking bitch!” Frankie screams while groaning in agony.

Tara immediately storms through the crowd and out the door, mortified and angry. You glance behind at Ethan, then to Chad, seeing his face confused as to what all just happened, then you all follow suite to Tara and Sam.

You catch up, yet keeping your distance to the sisters as you hear them arguing, Tara fuming and unpleased. You all stop behind the two and witness the argument, eyes going back and forth from one girl to the other.

“That guy was an asshole and he was gonna take advantage of you-“ Sam starts but Tara cuts her off.

“So? If I wanna hook up with an asshole that my decision. My decision! You’re out of my life for five years and now you can’t leave me alone for five minutes!” Tara’s voice gets higher as she gets more agitated just talking about Sam’s actions recently.

“See why I don’t live with them? I love them, but the drama.” Mindy whispers to you, Ethan, and Anika. You purse your lips and look at Mindy.

“Sorry” Mindy whispers back, averting her eyes and stepping back to Anika.

Ethan leans down to your ear,

“Is it this bad all the time?” He questioned in a curious tone.

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

Sam and Tara bicker quite often. Quinn has never been to bothered by it, usually doing other things, but you on the other hand, are always around to hear them. Occasionally you’ll go over to Mindy and Anika’s, but if they’re busy then you’ll go stay with Chad and Ethan. They normally know what it is when one of them opens the door to see you standing there with a pillow in your hand. Not that it’s a big deal, sometimes you just do it to spend more time with Ethan.

Usually you and Ethan would end up playing cards, study, or even watch a movie until you both fell asleep. You also used to just sleep on the couch, but Ethan has recently let you sleep in his bed while he either takes the couch or the floor. You refused at first, saying it wasn’t necessary, by the boy wouldn’t take no for an answer.

In the mornings it was Ethan who was up first, stretching and checking the time on his watch set on the nightstand. He was careful not to wake you, seeing as you were still sound asleep with the blankets all about. One leg would be over the covers while the other was under, you turned on your side and face against the pillow. One thing that Ethan noticed as well, was how you still looked perfect to him even after turning around all night. Your tank top accentuating your curves well, also being enough to where your cleavage would show a little. But Ethan wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact he got a little aroused by the simple sight of you a few times. But you also chose to wear that to bed, so maybe Ethan’s eyes might linger a little longer. Exactly how you intended.

What wakes you up is the closing of his bedroom door, leaving you alone to sleep for a bit. You sit up and stretch, feeling the warm sunlight through the cracks of the shut blinds. You swing your legs over to the floor and walk towards the door to the kitchen. You see Ethan, who is currently sipping a cup of coffee while reading his Econ textbook. His hair is quite fluffy and his eyes are intently focused on the schoolbook in front of him. When the cup moved away from his lips, they move against each other to savor the taste of the caffeine. He doesn’t even notice you standing there until you say something.

“Econ? Really?” You express as you walk over to sit with him.

He sets his mug down, giving a slight laugh and smile at your comment.

“I have an exam in two days, I can’t risk anything.”

You smile and shake your head, still loving the smart boy in front of you, even if he willingly reads from a textbook in his weekend free time.

You don’t notice it at first, but your eyes don’t leave him. He looks up at you before you can look away. He raises an eyebrow at you and smiles with the left of his mouth.

It stays silent for a while as you hold your coffee and take a sip, the steam still visibly coming from the caffeinated drink. Not many sounds are heard except the flipping of the textbook pages and the honks of cars from NY traffic.

You eventually finish your coffee and get up to refill it, knowing you have many lectures that day. You walk over to the machine and start to pour the liquid in the mug. You place the pot back in its place and then around, only to be met with Ethan’s tall frame facing you. You nearly shriek from the startle.

“Ethan! Why would you scare me like that?”

You say as you exhale and hold a hand over your chest, the other leaning against the countertop behind you.

Ethan doesn’t say a single word. He just continues to watch you, his eyes scanning over your figure.

“Eth? You alright?” You hesitated.

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine,” he nods and bits his lip a bit.

You then feel his hand snaking on your waist, slowly pulling you towards his.

“Last night, at the party..” He begins slowly.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, you know.”

His voice is deep. He sounds like a sexy villain in a movie, almost. Why is he acting like this?

You can feel his breath on you.

“How could I not? Even going for a simple costume, I couldn’t look away..” He trails off.

You were now flush against him. Your mouth felt dry and you needed to clear your throat but didn’t want to ruin the silence. You felt your heartbeat quicken, your stomach whirl.

It felt good.

Ethan’s eyes were still on yours, burning with something. A passion. Something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but so badly wanted to. His fingertips slightly squeezed your hip, his other hand to your side on the countertop. His arms were tanned, flexing from his hand slightly moving. His nostrils flared a bit with every breath out, his lips pursed a little bit.

He leaned closer to your ear, your eyes following him until they couldn’t anymore. Barely above a whisper, he muttered a phrase that made your heart beat everywhere, your palms sweaty.

“Really makes me want to wreck you.”

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion #scream #scream 6 #ghostface

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erinartemis · 8 months ago

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OMGOMGOMGKFMSGSKB IM FREAKING OUT IT'S HERE!!! MURDER DRONES EPISODE 7 TEASER!! EEEEEE!!! I went frame by frame and picked out some cool scenes I wanted to scream about, so get ready for a bunch of crazed ramblings and some theories !! (Long post ahead, folks)

Okay first of all- just- the lighting in these shots ✨ simply gorgeous... Also that "poster" thing in the background of the first image is very interesting.. obviously it says HELP (though that looks scrawled-on afterward with probably blood), and it looks like there could be possibly eyes? EDIT: it's not eyes it's two drones standing !!!

Also can we appreciate how creepy cool that hole in the ground is :00

THEIR ROOMS! THE SILLIES' ROOMS!!! WHAT SECRETS DO THEY HOLD?? I hope we find out

EDIT: THEY'RE LOCKERS NOT ROOMS OOPSIES

Good to see we've still got a bit of that classic md humor: "not to be overdramatic but core collapse" xd

N oh no N IS HE OKAY?? what am I talking about ofc he's not (I'm going to cry at this episode)

OKAY NEXT-

This thing. What is this thing. Probably part of the Solver, as it's all organic and eldritch-y, and it has veins. It looks lit from behind, almost like we're looking out from the inside of something? I think it's possible somebody gets dragged into one of those physical manifestations of the Solver, and this could be their perspective from inside it! Oooor we're looking at it from the outside, and there's something glowing inside the mass.

Next up, these guys??? So many possibilities here... They look like humans, but they aren't necessarily so, just like the "Tessa Isn't Human" theory. And from what little you can see in the teaser, they are moving in an odd way- suspicious. I originally thought they could be manifestation of the Solver or something, created to confuse, but after considering it for a bit, I realized it's more likely this scene is a flashback to when the core collapsed.

SOLVERUZISOLVERUZISOLVER- OHHHH BOY SOLVER UZI

Okay. This shot is a bit confusing; can't really make out what's going on- To me, it looks like something is possibly exploding? And the red string things are lasers or something? Also the blobs in the foreground definitely look like Solver hands, but- that's all I've got for this one

Tessa. Tessatessatessa tessa are you pulling a sword on Uzi? oh no, you are, aren't you, ohh no

WHAT DID UZI SEE. ON THAT TV SCREEN. HELP SHE LOOKS SO TRAUMATIZED- Also also wanted to point out the "freaking ninja star" on the ground.. little callback there :,)

the crucifix will be important, oo religious imageryyy eee

DOG.

Small thing, this is clearly the same scene from the GLITCHx 7/8 teaser, but it's the shot from a little bit before the clip in that teaser plays. I wonder how much control Uzi has over herself at this point... These robots are going to so much pain someone help them

norinorinori nori I'M SO READY FOR THE LORE AND FLASHBACKS EEEE

OMGOMGOGMOGMOMG YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HYPED I WAS WHEN I SAW THIS- WE'RE GETTING MURDER N YALL!!! FIRST TIME SINCE THE PILOT EEEE!!! Oh my gosh I just KNOW it's going to be an emotional response to something horrible happening- something to do with Uzi getting fully possessed, or almost dying, or N THINKING she's dead, or just all the stress of EVERYTHING, along with V's (hopefully not actually) death, and it just pushes him to his breaking point OH AND all the repressing he's been doing this whole time WILL NOT BE HELPING WITH THAT !!! I'm SO EXCITED TO FIND OUT AAAA-

Oh it could also be that N gets factory-reset, causing him to actually lose his memories or something, which is AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PILE OF ANGST, but personally I hope/think it'll be closer to the first one... It seems very likely to me that all of the stuff N's been going through (and how he's just been pretending everything's fine) would catch up to him, and it would lead to an "outburst" of everything he's been bottling up. PLUS do y'all remember that merch ad?? I know it was just a promo, but merch stuff has been shown to be kind of relevant to the plot in the past soo... yeah I'm feeling very good about this theory-

Okay so this is the same guy from the earlier image with all the humans- That feels notable, like they're going to be important. And is it just me and my poor video quality or does the Sentinel hand look glitchy?? Could it have turned on the humans like the one that turned on "Tessa" in Cabin Fever??

Oh dear, that's oil (or blood; they whole thing's too red to tell) coming from Uzi's eye... Feeling like the same thing that happened to Doll happens to Uzi... agh the ANGST hdfbsjsb

DOOOOOLL DOLL DOLL !!! SHE'S THERE !! I THINK SHE HAS BUTCHER KNIVES AGAIN !! I wonder who she's fighting... (I mean it could be a sentinel, but it looks like she's talking, so I'm guessing it's one of the group) ee I'm excited to see where Doll's character goes from here !!

ALLLLRIGHTY!! This has been a breakdown of my personal thoughts on the teaser! I am SOOO excited; these next two weeks need to go by FAST but ik they won't- Anyways... thanks for reading ! :D

#murder drones #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones episode 7 #murder drones theory #md #uzi doorman #murder drones uzi #serial designation n #murder drones n #absolute solver #murder drones absolute solver #murder drones nori #nori doorman #doll murder drones #IF YOU COULDN'T TELL #I. AM. HYYYYPED!!!!!#long post

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abitterberryblog · 5 months ago

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TWOTM Emissa Corenius : An Over-Analyzation

Major The Will of the Many spoilers and random theories ahead !!

Okay, so when I first read The Will of the Many, I wasn’t reading properly, and I just kinda assumed that Emissa was just a kinda blandly written character in such a well-written world. That was, of course, until the whole twist thing. What I liked was that it wasn’t a complete 360, and that she didn’t end up as extremely bad, but flawed enough for me not to be annoyed with her existence, and for her to not seem like only a Mary Sue 'love interest' character.

The thing is, I don't think she is at all.

First of all, I’m starting this with an analyzation of her relationship with Vis, and her not-so-role as a ‘love interest’. Was it real? Was it fake? I think she eventually did grow to be fond over him after a while, but I’ve always known she was going to betray him somehow. Something about the vibes.

It all started with the glass of water at the infirmary. I know there’s a chance that maybe she’s just, idk, kind or whatever, but after the ending, I’m not so 100% sure.

Not only that, but Ulciscor constantly nagging about how suspicious he was of her. (Normally I'd pass it off as Ulciscor being obsessed and hyper-anxious about the mission thing, but this was Emissa, and that caught my interest.)

There’s a really fat chance that she was, somehow, working with Veridius. This does not mean that she’s evil or whatever, and I'm still trying to figure out of Veridius is good or not, but it does make her a lot more interesting and complex.

Towards the end of the Iudicium, Emissa uses Will. You can’t use Will during academy stuff without some sort of source, or somebody allowing to use it. It's simply not possible?? Veridius? He’s literally the Principalis of the academy, after all, and during the infirminary scene at the end of the book, its implied that the Principalis spoke with Emissa beforehand, when he says to Vis that ‘she’s distraught’ and tries convincing Vis to talk to her.

What I noticed in this book is that the author, James Islington, is very careful in what he keeps in the book. Details. Hints. No matter how small or useless they seem. There are MAJOR spoilers, but : Here's a funny example I found.

See? Everything is littered in little details to be explored upon later. Even something as simple as a background detail of Aequa flipping coins.

ALSO, and something that I don’t see talked about for some reason, is the fact that Emissa knows that Indol was planning to deflect from Military to Religion. Indol never told her this. He’s shocked that she knows. Guess who may know??? Veridius???? That's right!!!

The question is, why would Veridius tell Emissa this? No idea from me here. But something else during the Iudicium arc catches my attention, and it’s the fact that Veridius PRIVATELY tells everybody what prize they would get if they won the whole thing. As implied by Eidhin (after he cancels on the Iudicium thing for Vis’ sake), Veridius often tempts them with something they really, really badly want, and something that would drive them to want to win.

I’m surprised not many people talk about that scene where Emissa asks Vis for the Heart of Jovan in the Iudicium, so she could win. She’s upset by this, obviously, since she cries and stuff, but I notice that she says “I can’t let us get separated.”

When I first read, I assumed she was talking about Vis, but that wouldn’t make sense, since she basically stabbed him as he fell off a tower (?) like, five seconds later. And also, her and Vis being separated wouldn't be related to her winning the Iudicium, (unless she's in a scenario where she'll have to leave forever or something if she doesn't win, which isn't really likely), Which makes me wonder, who was she really talking about?

Hopefully, we’re find out in the next book. Someone she really cared about? Relative? Family member? Am I missing something? Will this be important?

After all, we don’t exactly 100% know why Veridius planted Vis near the Callidus-Eidhin punchy debacle. He obviously knew Vis would step in.

At first I wondered if he was trying to kick Vis out and expel him, which is probably more likely, but right now I’m running on four hours of sleep and I am high on theories.

I think I’ve read this theory somewhere on the Hierarchy subreddit, too, but what if Veridius planned this whole thing, not to expel Vis, but to plant Vis near the stables as his punishment, maybe for Emissa to keep an eye on him? Or woo him for secrets or whatever the fuck?

At the very least, whether Veridius did purposely plant Vis there for that sole reason, or as an afterthought after Vis worms himself out with the Threefold Apology, I do think that Veridius did make Emissa watch over Vis on purpose.

Otherwise, I think it’ll be a little random with Emissa just casually joining Vis to scoop horse dung, and I do not care how cool or attractive or fascinating he may appear, I still think it’s important. Hopefully? And why do I think so, you may ask?

I do not really think Islington deliberately wanted Emissa and Vis to be like, endgame, endgame. Like, The EndgameTM. Maybe Emissa was trying to get more information on him. I don't know. It’s plausible. Emissa is top of the academy after Indol, and besides Indol being of course the smartest (as told by Vis), Emissa is FAR smarter than most readers deem her to be. I don't think everything as simple as this. Emissa simply cannot be this blind and radiant and carefree. She isn't in a perfume ad. We've established, from the book itself, that twotm is LAYERS upon LAYERS and twist after twist.

First of all, I’m so sorry, but Emissa and Vis have like no chemistry (imo). They do have maybe like a teeny, tiny bit, but the thing is that Vis has more chemistry with LITERALLY every other character his age BESIDES Emissa. I know, I know, every writer isn’t perfect, but there’s something so suspicious about Emissa and Vis’ dynamic.

As mentioned once on a Hierarchy Series subreddit post, Emissa and Vis have a strange dynamic that is unlike the others characters. With literally every single other character/friendship/relationship that Vis is in, there are details of each interaction, each feeling Vis has with them, what they do, bla bla bla, snippets of the scene, dialogue, ect.

But with Emissa, it’s sort of just…speedran? Like, besides the whole Suus island romance debacle and theatrics, their interactions just sort of go…

“Emissa visited me in the stables and we talked. For a long time. She helped me. She's nice. Also, her eyes are really green.”

“Emissa sometimes studied with Callidus and I in the morning, sometimes not. Blablabla, she’s great and funny.”

“Emissa talked with me during Suus after noticing that I was uncomfortable with the politician people, blabla. ”

“Emissa and I trained together. In Three. Emissa helped me study. In Three. Wow, she makes me smile. Haha.”

Obviously, I'm exaggerating, but I'm definitely NOT wrong. Open the book and reread it. I DARE you to tell me I'm wrong.

See, there’s no real scene with them. Is it just me who noticed this? Just a time jump where Vis summarizes everything he did with her and how awesome and fun it was. There’s no way an author, writing a book with this much description and detail, just fumbles a romance by writing it like this.

NOT ONLY THAT, but even the CONFESSION scene isn’t anything as theatric as the rest of the book. Not even a SMIDGEN. Even the whole kiss can be easily forgotten. It’s not some dramatic confession. It's not romantic. It's not even sweet and heart-warming in that subtle, simple way. It's just a really lukewarm 'maybe i like you' and then boom, and it's over in an instant.

Vis mentions Indol and the secret that Emissa accidentally exposes of Indol, and then Emissa (suspiciously) changes the topic to how much she likes Vis and kisses Vis. And then boom, romance. A quick end scene, as if it wasn't ever important.

Isn’t it like, hella SUSPICIOUS? She changed the topic. Kissed him. Distracted him. And then the scene ended like it wasn't a whole Vis-Developing, Emissa-Developing, HUGE relationship moment.

Which, yeah, maybe she did like him at some point, but it sure as hell is convenient, isn’t it? I’m super invested in her character now, which is ironic because I used to not be able to STAND her because I just thought her character was just a really poorly written love interest.

I’m convinced Islington has the writer ability to write a confession/kiss scene much better, and much less random than that. Which means that I really don’t think he INTENDED to make hearts swoon. Just to distract.

Emissa is very fascinating, and few people acknowledge that, and I am EXTREMELY excited for The Strength of the Few to release.

#the will of the many #vis telimus #the will of the many vis #the will of the many emissa #Emissa Corenius #twotm #twotm emissa #twotm vis #james islington #this is my humble attempt in joining the teeny tiny twotm tumblr community #hierarchy series #hierarchy #hierarchy james islington

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kunasthiast · 5 months ago

Text

Goals

It all started with your interest and love for soccer. Didn't know you'll find somebody this interesting here, right?

a/n: this can be a stand-alone fic bUTTT actually this is in the same universe of – Looting and Broken Sinks – check out how Sukuna and reader first met hsdhah i've been so inspired with soccer bc of Blue Lock

hope you enjoy this one ;) i'm also so sorry for no uploads the past week, i've been so busy with university – will get back to regular uploads by next week!

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, Boyfriend AU, Soccer Player AU, University AU Word Count: 1,628 All characters are of age. Suggestive.

You were the biggest fan of soccer. You knew everything about it – the legendary strikers, the egotist players, and the incredible goals. Yet, you never played it yourself.

It’s not because you’re not cut out for it. Or, not because your body can’t take it. Please, you’re athletic as fuck. It’s just that you preferred to enjoy this particular sport from a distance, analyzing each players’ skills, techniques, and plays.

So here you were, watching your university’s soccer team during their first match against a rival university. Are their rivals just too weak or something?

It was your first time attending one of their games, and you had high hopes. But, yes, this is boring you. They were not making plays that are interesting to watch at all!

“When will they make this game more watchable,” you complained as you leaned on the rail, your eyes scanning the field for anything remotely exciting.

The only one you can see is a white-haired guy who’s like an amazing midfielder, but what good are his plays if there’s no striker thats clearly cut out to make an out-of-this-world goal, right?

Just as you were about to give up hope, a commotion on the side of the field caught your attention. Your university’s team asked for a player trade from the bench. Alas, the crowd on that side erupted in cheers and gasps towards a tall, muscular player with pink hair and distinctive tattoos. #20 Ryomen.

“Who’s that?” You muttered to yourself as you squint your eyes towards #20.

“That’s Sukuna,” a voice beside you said. “He’s the star forward of the team – they call him the ‘King of the Penalty Area’ for a reason. He’s like a beast on the field, too.”

“Hmm, that’s kind of a cringey title to call himself,” you said as you continued watching the ruckus on the side of the field.

“Well, that’s what he was dubbed by most people here. I’m Nobara, do you go to this university, too?” An orange-haired pretty woman said as she extended her hand towards you for a shake.

You stared dumbfoundedly on her stretched out hand and confusingly tilted your head as you told her your name.

“Not a fan of handshakes?” Nobara snickered as she set her eyes back to the field.

“Yeah haha, just shocked you were actually watching a soccer game,” you said as your eyes went back to the field as the game started again. “Most women my age don’t really watch these sports, they love basketball more.”

“Oh, I’m not a soccer fan, alright? I just lost a bet and had to watch my friend play which I’m certain is not happening anytime soon now that Sukuna’s in this game,” she replied as she shook her head and folded her arms.

You chuckled, finding her candor refreshing. “Well, hopefully this Sukuna guy can liven things up a bit.”

The moment Sukuna stepped onto the field, the atmosphere changed. His presence was commanding, and it was clear he was no ordinary player.

Oh, this is getting exciting!

“Wow, he does have a certain… presence,” you admitting, watching Sukuna weaving through the opposing team with ease, his eyes focused and determined. “Maybe this game won’t be so boring after all.”

“Yeah, he’s something else. But, don’t tell him that, his ego will just go over the roof.”

The white-haired midfielder, #27 Gojo, passed the ball to Sukuna with perfect precision. Sukuna took it in stride, sprinting down the field with his incredible speed.

He left two defenders in the dust, aiming and fired a shot at the goal, the ball sailing past the goalkeeper and into the net with a satisfying thud.

GOAL 1-0

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you found yourself clapping along, genuinely impressed.

Is he a prodigy? You’ve never seen a forward make an aggressive goal like that!

Sukuna turned towards the stands, a smig grin on his face as he soaked in the applause from the crowd.

The game continued, and Sukuna’s performance only got better and better. He scored two more goals, each more impressive than the last one. How did he even manage to make a hattrick?

3-0

By the time final whistle blew, your university’s team had won decisively, thanks in large part to Sukuna’s incredible play. As the players left the field, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound sense of excitement.

Maybe watching this university’s soccer team wouldn’t feel so boring at all.

As you scanned the crowd, searching for Sukuna among the sea of faces, you couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at you. Amidst the jubilant celebrations and the chatter of the spectators, your eyes locked onto a figure making his way towards the exit.

There he was, Sukuna, weaving through the crowd with an effortless grace that mirrored his performance on the field.

His pink hair stood out among the sea of fans, and his confident stride exuded an aura of charisma that drew you in.

Without a second thought, you found yourself moving through the crowd, determined to catch up to him. You navigated through the throng of people, your heart racing with anticipation.

What would you say to him?

Finally, you reached his side, breathless from the exhilarating pursuit. Sukuna glanced in your direction, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

“Hey there,” you greeted him with a smile.

Sukuna returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he replied, his voice smooth and captivating. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before."

You chuckled, suddenly aware of how out of place you felt among the adoring fans. "No, we haven't," you admitted, feeling slightly tongue-tied in his presence. "I just wanted to say, you played an incredible game out there. Truly inspiring!”

Sukuna's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Why, thank you," he replied, inclining his head in acknowledgment. "But I must admit, I couldn't have done it without the support of fans like you."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Oh, I’m not a fan, just an admirer of the sport itself,” you said with a playful grin. “But, I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines at every game."

Sukuna's laughter filled the air. Why does his laugh even sound so good?

"I look forward to it," he said, his smile dazzling in the glow of the stadium lights. "Who knows? Maybe you'll inspire me to score even more goals next time.”

Just as you were about to respond, another player approached, his white hair stark against the evening sky and a pair of sunglasses (mind you, it’s night time) perched on his nose. He exuded a different kind of charisma – playful yet commanding.

"Sukuna making friends with fans again?" he teased, shooting a mischievous glance between you and Sukuna.

“Gojo Satoru," Sukuna introduced him with a playful smirk. ”Our team’s ace midfielder. Don’t mind him, he’s just as annoying as he looks.”

Gojo laughed, extending a hand towards you. "Nice to meet you. Don’t listen to Sukuna, I’m actually the charm of this team.”

You shook his hand, chuckling at his lighthearted banter. "Nice to meet you too, Gojo. It was fun watching you.”

Gojo grinned, throwing an arm around Sukuna’s shoulders. "Oh, you can count on it. With me around, the matches are never boring.”

You snorted, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the two players. “Yeah, I’ll see you around in the next games, too. I’ll get going now, bye!”

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of Sukuna's gaze lingering on you, a spark of intrigue glimmering in his eyes. And you weren’t wrong. He was still gazing at your figure as you left the field.

"Now, she's an interesting girl," Gojo remarked with a grin, nudging Sukuna playfully.

Sukuna shook his head, tearing his gaze away with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, she is," he admitted, his thoughts lingering on the mysterious girl who had captivated his attention

Meanwhile, Gojo shrugged off the moment, his easygoing demeanor never faltering. "Anyway, why are you late?" he asked Sukuna, his tone teasing.

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Got a bit distracted by an online game. Just lost track of time," he confessed with a sheepish grin.

Gojo rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smirk at Sukuna’s antics. "You and your games," he muttered, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, let's catch up with the others before they start thinking we've abandoned them."

With that, the two teammates made their way through the dispersing crowd, their laughter echoing in the evening air.

But even as they rejoined their team, Sukuna couldn't shake the memory of your encounter, a spark of curiosity igniting within him.

Perhaps this was just the beginning of something unexpected and exciting. And, it is.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn deeper into the world of soccer with Sukuna. Your bond with him growing stronger with each passing game. You watched from the bench, cheering him on and complimenting his plays after every match.

And eventually, you found yourself seated by the side of the field, watching the game unfold with bated breath as your favorite player took to the field.

Sukuna, your boyfriend, moved with grace and precision, his every move a testament to his skill and dedication.

And this time, the only times he’ll be late was because of his pre-game workout. With you.

You were no longer just a big fan of soccer; you were the biggest fan of Sukuna and his incredible goals.

#sukuna #jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #au sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #goals #soccer player!au #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk nobara #nobara kugisaki

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bnha-headcanonss · 6 months ago

Text

Today got so, so much weirder

Bakugo one-shot. Super light. Hopefully sweet? Idk I don’t write this type of stuff. Apologies for any typos or confusing bits. It’s 4 am. I have not slept.

Slight swearing (expected)

Word count: 1875

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I woke up, sun shining into my eyes first thing. Basically blinded as soon as I wake up, on top of that, I’m going to be late, lovely start to the day!

I get up, get dressed in my uniform, and leave for school.

“Honey what about breakfast??” Mom calls out after me.

“I’m going to be late if I stay any longer! I’ll pick something up on the way, love you!” I yelled while speeding out the door.

I hear a faint “I love you too!” As I slam the door shut and make my way down the street.

“Stop walking so fast will you?!”

Bakugo and I haven’t always been close, he’s got an explosive personality, quite the temper on him. After both of us getting into UA and finding out we were in the same class, we grew closer. Originally it was banter back and forth and absolutely kicking each others ass in matches. Basically wiping the floor with each other.

He’s got this explosion quirk which goes hand-in-hand with his personality and I have a time shift quirk. I use it a lot to dodge others attacks and find way to make their attacks blow up in their own face, in his case, literally. And he hates it.

After our back and forth harsh banter that went on for months, it turned more playful. Eventually we just became each others closest friend. And I’d hate to admit it, it’s been kind of nice. Over time I developed a small crush for him. Nothing too major. But just underneath all the anger and aggression, and ego, he’s not half bad.

“My apologies your highness.” I did a stupid little curtsy and he attempted to push me down. I grabbed onto his arm so his attempt failed. Still funny though.

“What’re you doing out here so late? Usually you’re early.” I questioned. Being late or barely on time was my thing, not so much his.

“Somebody kept me up all night.” He gave me a dirty look.

“You were the one who didn’t want to go to sleep until you got a win. You just got to get better at the game.”

“I’ll blow your fucking face up, shut your mouth.” I burst out laughing. Bakugo sucks big time at Mortal Kombat. He wasn’t much for video games in general but he saw me watching an execution clip online and got interested, typical.

We reach the school and go on with our day. We don’t talk much in class, we sat and did our work. Lunch came and we ate together.

“Hey try this.” He proceeds to dump some green sauce on my food.

“What is it?” I questioned. Bakugo loves his spicy food, pretty on brand but I can’t stand it. I do not have the tastebuds strong enough for that like he does.

“It’s nothing too bad, it’s really good, I made it myself. Try it.” He demanded.

“If I burn myself, it’s on you.”

“Nah you’ll be fine. Go on.” He sits back. I already know how this is going to go, but he made it himself and I can’t say no to that.

As expected, it burned.

“Holy shit Bakugo, this burns so bad.” I’m up and looking for anything to drink but I finished my water a while ago and don’t have anything else. Meanwhile Bakugo is practically dying of laughter in his seat. I swear he’s got tears of joy forming and I’ve got tears related to death streaming down my face. Everything feels like it’s on fire.

“Here here, you’re causing a scene.” He hands me his water bottle and I start chugging.

“I don’t care.. if I cause anything.. that shit BURNS!” I manage between chugs of water. He breaks out into even more laughter.

He was right though, I am causing a scene. I sit back down and try to gain my composure.

“What is that stuff?”

He pulls out the unlabeled bottle and holds it up like an advertisement.

“Lord Explosion Murder hot sauce, available near you.” He’s got a giant grin on his face. You don’t see him smile much, even if it is artificial, it ties my stomach in a knot, that could also be the hot sauce.

“Oh my god you’re such a nerd.” I say with a stupid smile on my face, compensated by an eye roll.

“You find it funny so clearly you love this nerd. Wait- nevermind that sounded weird.”

“Yeah right, cool it hot shot.” I laugh and brush it off, I wouldn’t say love, but I think I definitely like that nerd? I have no idea.

He looked oddly vacant when I brushed it off though. There was no emotion, just stone faced. Completely changed the tone. Luckily the bell rang, we cleaned up and continued the rest of our school day.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Roof?” I approach his desk as the final bell for the day rings.

“Yeah let’s go.” He packs away his things and we make our way to the roof.

We’ve been coming up here a couple times a week since becoming friends, just to talk, watch the sun go down, watch a movie or something. It’s like a moment of peace for me. I think this is originally where I started developing feelings for him. It’s just us, there’s no playing an act or anything. We learned to be ourselves and I really like who he actually is.

“What’s it gonna be today?” He questions, pulling out his laptop and turning on his Apple TV application.

“Hmm. What’s on the list?”

We made a list of all the movies we think about but can’t watch at the moment.

“So far there’s 27 dresses, uh 13 going on 30, 10 things I hate about you, god what is up with all the romcoms? All girly shit.”

“You realize who you’re talking to dimwit? 10 things I hate about you.”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolls his eyes, turns on the movie and positions the laptop in front of us both. It’s a nice day. Not cold, no breeze, just nice, warm air. Quiet.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I must’ve been more tired than I thought because I felt my eyes getting heavier and I’ve had to catch myself from falling forward once or twice. The movies only about half way done.

“Fucking loser.” He says.

“What?”

“You’re falling asleep.” Pointing out the obvious.

“No I’m not, I’m watching the movie.” Uh-huh..

“Right.” He pulls me towards him until my head hits his shoulder. This is different, Bakugo grew some balls or something. I don’t remember much else from there though.

I must’ve been really exhausted.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I open my eyes to the night sky and Baby Driver playing on the laptop. I barely made it through 10 things I hate about you I guess. I’m still laying on his shoulder but I feel pressure on my head, it feels like his head. And I feel a hand on my waist. Is he asleep too?

“Hm.” I test.

“Finally, fucking nerd. You fell asleep.” He’s got that softer, sleepy voice. Maybe he was falling asleep. He lifts his head and moves his hand from my waist.

“Sorry, I guess today was not my day.” I laugh it off.

“Movie was good. Liked it. I put this on right after though and it’s almost over.”

“Baby Driver?”

“Yeah.” One of the first movies we watched up here. Only because he didn’t give me much of a choice, at all. It was good though, I liked it a lot more than I thought I would, I thought it was just a car movie at first.

“Let’s finish it then.” I offer.

“That was the plan. At least until you woke up.”

“Yeah yeah. Shut up and watch.”

“You’re one to talk.”

As the movie continued I could feel his arm snake around my waist again, right back to where it was before. We haven’t moved otherwise. I’m still really close to him, I can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it’s a lot. I can’t necessarily complain though. Realistically, who would?

The movie finished and we pack up to go home. It started getting colder as the time passed and neither of us had a jacket. The school issued skirt for my uniform was killing me at this point.

I let him rant on about the movie I picked the whole way home. It sounds like he liked it. He really liked the main character because she wasn’t like all the other main characters who are all boy crazy.

“She kind of reminds me of you.” He says. I take that as an absolute win. I love Kat so much. She’s the main reason I watched the movie in the first place.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Despite the fact that I’ve never fallen asleep on him like that before, nothing was weird. Nothing felt weird. Today was a weird day, don’t get me wrong but that was the most normal feeling part, and it was the most not-normal. I’m confusing myself.

We reach my apartment complex which is a couple streets away from his house and we make our way up the stairs.

“Again tomorrow?” He suggests. Or demands? No clue at this point.

“Tomorrow? Theres no school tomorrow?”

“You come over to my place. We’ll rewatch your movie so you can finish it this time and we can pick another one from the stupid list. Yeah?”

Me go over to his place? Today got so much weirder in just 30 seconds.

“You know, that sounds nice. See you around 1?”

“Yup. Don’t be Late.”

“I’ll try not to,” I start to walk towards my door.

“I’ll kill you if you are!” He’s still just standing there, you can practically hear his smile. You know how you sound different when your lips are upturned, yeah, that.

“You won’t do shit.” I laugh and pull out my keys.

I feel a tug on my arm and I’m met face to face with Bakugo. He grabs my face with his hands and suddenly his lips meet mine.

His hands lay either side of my jaw, thumbs on my cheek, holding my head up towards him. His lips are soft, he’s gentle. I practically melt into the kiss.

He pulls away, we lock eyes for just a couple seconds before he turns around to leave. His face was red. I feel red. I feel hot, and confused. My stomach did flips.

He did shit- not the shit I was referring to, but holy shit, he did shit. What.

“1 pm, don’t, be late,” he emphasized the don’t.

“I won’t.” I say, in utter disbelief. I see a small smile creep up on his lips before he’s out of sight.

What the fuck just happened?

Today got so, so much weirder.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #10 things i hate about you #kat stratford #romcom #bakugo is a softie #baby driver

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kensingtonbae · 1 month ago

Note

what aruani fanfics do u read and what plans u to read u have??

Hiii anon thank you for the ask!!!

My fav ones are the canon compliant, especially the post rumbling ones, but lately I’ve been growing fond of the cadet days fics too…i find them so endearing and cute, there’s always something special about teenage love and shy first times😭😭 at the same time the post rumbling are very very interesting as they give you the opportunity to explore more complex feelings and situations overall (also they are always soooo intriguing since the author has total freedom to build the next aot narrations and I love to see how everyone interprets them!)

Modern aus are also really interesting, but i rarely read them since most of the time they are castes aus (market is saturated!!!!) or they just…don’t feel right to me. I like them, but i am veeeery picky with them.

So right now I’m reading some ongoing fics, like vbeow by @moonspirit (following it like a lion with its prey), my yellow light in your soft whispers by @annawayne, wpts by @dudewhy3 etc. (probably a couple more that I can’t remember rn😭)

Next I really want to read some more of Anna’s works, @aruanimess ‘s too, and hopefully a good full Pokkopiku fic, by far I’ve only found one shots but they aren’t enough i am THIRSTY!!! If somebody knows any PLEASE hmu. Also there’s probably more i’m planning to read but again i can’t remember rn (I’m sorry I haven’t slept in a week killing ms brb)

Let’s not forget that i have a whole fic to write so i always try to make some time for it😭😭😭

Have a good day pookie!!!

#aot #attack on titan #armin arlert #aruani #annie leonhart #snk #shinjeki no kyojin #aruani fanfic #pieck finger #porco galliard

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boltedfruit · 7 days ago

Text

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Steve's attempt at a record-breaking gangbang ends up with him flying back to Hawkins to track down number one-ninety-eight. The mystery man who left an impression. - A thumb swipes his lower lip. Breath ghosts along the bite mark on his shoulder. It stings. Steve hopes he drew blood. “I’ll remember this forever, sweetheart.”

Thank you to @cowboythighs for giving me permission to write this fic based on their super fun prompt, which you can read here~

Read the full fic below:

What’s in his fridge?

There’s at least one bag of broccoli, half a container left of that nice parmesan he splurged on…maybe the chicken wings in his freezer are still okay. Hopefully? He still has some of that decadent hickory barbeque sauce. There’s no reason he can’t cover a bit of freezer burn with a healthy dousing of the stuff. He didn’t do the dishes last night, but that’s fine. Has time to run the dishwasher before–

Something vibrates. Loudly.

Someone’s phone is going off in the middle of the shoot.

Steve lifts his head, annoyed that the director hasn’t called cut yet. The man on top of him is dripping sweat, a bead of which narrowly misses landing in his eye. Steve casts a look sideways, hoping to catch the director raising his walkie.

Nope. Still posted up behind his wall of cameras. Stoic as ever, the man watches Steve work.

Steve lets the moment drag, his expectant silence punctuated only by the grunting and groaning of the muscled man pumping away between his spread legs.

More loud vibrations.

He cranes his neck to see over the man’s shoulder, sees the clock over the huddled producers and decides himself it’s time for a break.

Steve presses a hand against the massive chest above him and pushes lightly. The man’s movement falters, stops. Steve meets his eyes with an easy air of I’m the star, get off me, and it does the trick. The behemoth withdraws from Steve’s body with a mutter and wipes the sweat from his red brow as Steve swings his legs over the platform and sits up. He tests his weight, but finds he can still place pressure where he needs to without any pain.

The director shouts something Steve doesn’t hear. Calls back, “Somebody’s phone is going off! It’s ruining the vibe.”

“What phone? I don’t hear a phone,” the director says in his heavy German accent, shrugging in a way that rankles Steve. “We’re almost at two-hundred, surely it can—”

“No, it can’t wait. I need five anyway.” His own assistant appears by his side with a robe.

Steve shrugs it on and heads toward the source of the vibrations. Around him, production comes to a standstill while fluffers and PAs run around tending to the talent.

Steve tracks the phone down in a bag near craft services, but a producer beats him to it. She sheepishly digs out her phone and shuts it off, muttering an apology.

Steve sighs, grabs another cracker and decides to take a much needed bathroom break. On his way, he grabs his own phone and sees a text from Robin.

still good for eight?

I’m only at 197, might be closer to 9 or 10.

big ew, but congrats. should I pick up dessert?

Coffee double dutch choco cake pls?

obvi, my very spoiled friend. have fun you little award winning superslut!

Thx, lov u!

Robin sends back a string of emojis. He finishes up in the bathroom, thinking of all the times he’s been nominated for an AVN but never won. And it’s not like it’s terribly hard. He chooses interesting projects. He works with skilled teams. He stays clear of scandals and keeps his nose figuratively and literally clean of all the seedy underground bullshit that comes with the job.

But best actor still eludes him.

It grinds his gears, or at least the ones he used to have back in high school. The ones driving him to be a better player than everyone else at basketball practice, the ones that pushed him to state championship games three of his four years at Hawkins High. The ones that crowned him prom king and made him a bullshit name for a bullshit time in his life.

It’s his inner machinery, and even though he’s grown up a lot in the last five years, he’s still yet to replace some old rusted parts.

As he returns to set, Steve runs his hands through his hair, pinches both cheeks a little to bring a fresh blush back to the surface. His assistant applies lip gloss as he situates himself back on the black and white platform where he’s been fucked for the last three hours by one-hundred-and-ninety-six men.

He’s aiming for three hundred before dinner. Three-fifty if more than a good chunk of the men left are two-pump chumps. It’s about scheduling.

Steve shifts his weight from one asscheek to another, feels a brief twinge in his lower back. He flips over, stomach pressing against the slim pleather cushion.

It’s almost five.

The director claps his hands, and once Steve is in position, everyone resumes their roles. He gets comfortable on his elbows, cock limp between his legs and showing for the camera. He hears the next guy shuffle up behind him, can hear the shaky breath leave him.

Everyone knows their part to play in this circus, and Steve knows his best of all. He’s front and center, surrounded by a seemingly endless line of men of all ages, shapes and sizes. He’s taken more dick and strap today alone than he probably has in the last few years combined.

He’s going to win best actor, and he’s going to win best gangbang.

The thing about sex work is that it’s like any other job, really. There are good days, long days, fun days, days that drive him up the fucking wall. There are times he’s excited, nervous, bored out of his skull. Most shoots he books last a day or two, and hardly ever does one last more than a week, tops. This isn’t his first gangbang scene, but it is a record breaker for him, and several others in the industry as far as he’s researched.

But so far it’s been a lot of the same. Almost two hundred men and he hasn’t held a steady erection since an hour in and now he’s been daydreaming while giving tried and true sultry looks to the camera, fake moans of practiced pleasure leaving his throat.

Steve’s good at his job.

He’s been doing it since his parents cut him off and kicked him out at eighteen. He moved to LA and lived in his car until Robin graduated and followed him to the big city. It was exhilarating at first, fun. These days, at twenty-three, he’s mostly just bored.

And he knows better than to ignore an ache. If he holds one position for too long, he’ll be wrecked for a week. He’s big enough of a name now he can negotiate a lot of his contracts, and so he always gets control over how he’s positioned. The cameras can figure it out from there.

“And…action!”

Steve pouts for the camera in front of him, parts his freshly glossed lips and crosses his eyes a little. He never got the cross-eyed thing, but it’s apparently a huge kink for some.

Fingertips tickle over his ass, lead to palms lightly petting his hips. Steve wiggles for the man he can’t see, encouraging and coaxing as he goes to his knees and leans back. Wants to be grabbed, manhandled. Add the potential for a little healthy bruising and the audience eats it up.

But that doesn’t happen. Instead, he hears a breathy sigh from behind him, and then the sound of spit a second before he feels it hitting his hole. It drips down slowly, painting him wet, and Steve keens for the lens trained on his face.

The thing about this shoot is that it’s been a nightmare to plan. A year to put together a schedule, another six months to find the talent. There’s been cancellations, reschedules, a few deaths even, more casting, issues with health insurance and testing dates. Steve’s been along for it all, because this is his project. His idea, his brainchild.

All for one day.

One day to break some records. Prove to himself he can do this. That what he does can win awards and not only nominations.

After that he can take a very, very long break.

The hand rubs up and down his spine, firm and sure. Applies a little pressure at the lumbar and Steve actually lets out a small moan. It’s nice. He might set up a massage for tomorrow.

The camera swings wide, leaves Steve’s face and gives him some breathing room. The hand on his back remains while the other presses two fingers to his hole. He’s stretched, lubed beyond the meaning of the word even before the spit. There’s no need to finger him open.

But he receives a gentle probing with two fingers, a few deep, slow strokes that press in search with what seems to be a practiced touch. Steve rolls his hips back. Takes a few tries, but when the extra finds his prostate, he gasps, drives back to meet that zing of electricity again and again.

“God, just look at you,” the extra whispers. “Can’t wait to feel you. I’m so lucky.”

Steve moans. Not so fake this time. He drops his head, catches sight of lightly haired thighs covered in scribbly tattoos. He doesn’t even take into account the size of the man behind him, too focused on his own swiftly filling erection.

Huh.

It’s not like it’s a requirement or anything, by contract or personal preference of his scene partners. A lot of the time the bottom isn’t hard. Not exactly fair, but a limp bottom does not a film break, or whatever. More than a few of the men who have been inside him today have paid him plenty of attention, even tried for longer than Steve felt necessary. But they were all here to do a job, and that was to film a gangbang scene with Steve as the gangbangee. Hard or limp, he just wanted them to finish in him so they could get the shot and all go home to a nice hot shower.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?”

Though dirty talk was common, it wasn’t in the script for this shoot. And it wasn’t the usual lead-in of fuck yeah, look at your puffy hole, you take it so well, you’re like a bitch in heat, take that shit, take it like a whore.

“That’s it, baby, relax for me.”

It’s sweet…it’s kind. Things a lover would say.

Another strike of lightning burns him from the inside out, and Steve lets out a breath he’d been holding.

The hand at his back glides down, calloused fingers smoothing over his skin, until the director calls for penetration.

Steve wants to snap at him to shut the hell up. This is fine. More than fine, even. His prostate hasn’t exactly been the star of the show today, and a little pleasure makes his job that more enjoyable.

The fingers leave, and in their place frustration grows. That is, until the blunt head of another cock is pressing against him–no, dragging. The man is rubbing himself over Steve’s hole. Isn’t shoving in and taking like all the others.

More spit hits his rim , makes him startle. The hand on his back draws circles to settle him like a spooked horse.

This isn’t lovemaking. This is a scene. Steve huffs at himself, thinks just stick it in already, dude.

The extra’s hands slide from his back to his hip, his other hand joining in and pulling Steve’s weight, using Steve’s own body to slide inside. Steve groans. The guy’s big, thick. Should have paid better attention while he had his head down.

“Knew you could take it, Harrington,” he says softly, and Steve almost misses it when the man whines as he bottoms out. Fingers dig into his sides, tight but not bruising. “Pictured it a little different, but a guy can’t complain.”

So the guy’s got a fantasy, that’s fine. A lot of the talent cast for this production expressed a desire to work with Steve. Came with the territory, and the long filmography.

But something about this man hits him a little different. His words have him melting enough to feel warmth build, begin to spread.

His legs are tingling, insides burning with the stretch and latent pleasure. He wants more.

He grinds his hips back, trying to put his weight into it. The man moans low and finally, finally, starts moving his hips. Drags Steve back on every thrust.

“Jesus, you’re so–so–” Another drawn-out moan and the man collapses along Steve’s back. He’s slim, but his arms are strong as they wind around Steve’s waist. More tattoos. Bats in flight, stretched faces with sharp teeth. Long hair tickles over his shoulder as the man noses along the back of his neck “You feel like a dream.”

It’s quiet. Quiet enough Steve knows the cameras won’t pick it up. It’s just for Steve, and that sends his blood rushing, dick kicking as tension builds in his belly.

“Shit,” he grinds out, feels drool slip from his open mouth to pool on the black pleather underneath. “Oh, God.”

“That’s it. Wanna make you feel good, sweetheart. Come on. You deserve to feel good.”

He’s so hard he’s aching. Feels the weight of himself slap his stomach on each ever harder, deeper thrust.

Steve’s going to come. He’s actually going to come.

“Just knew you’d be so good for me. Could tell the first day I ever saw you. Wanted you forever. And look what you’ve accomplished,” he babbles, Steve’s heart growing three sizes, “You’ve changed the industry. You showed LA who’s king.” A particularly deep thrust has his elbows giving out. The man effortlessly braces his abrupt fall, a calloused hand snaking up to pillow his jaw. Steve is vaguely aware of the camera in front of them both, but he couldn’t care less if he tried right now. It feels too good. Feels better than anything all day, all month, all year. To the cameras, it must look like Steve’s being choked, but it’s the farthest thing from it. He’s being held, kept safe. “Always knew you’d go places. Get everything you wanted and more. I was actually jealous, and look at us now. Can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Steve’s cursing, praying, something as he’s pressed into the pleather. Now, his cock is trapped, facing backward so every time the man draws out and pushes back in, their cocks drag for a brief moment of bliss. The cherry on top. Neat trick.

“Never thought I–never even dreamed–”

A gasp, a flash of teeth in skin and Steve is coming with a shout, flexing his ass to get more, more.

He feels warmth spread hot and wet inside him and knows this will only last another moment or two. He needs to turn around. To see the man that just took him apart without touching his cock. Needs to–

A thumb swipes his lower lip. Breath ghosts along the bite mark on his shoulder. It stings.

Steve hopes he drew blood.

“I’ll remember this forever, sweetheart.”

The director shouts something Steve doesn’t hear. Can’t comprehend past the pleasant hum buzzing inside him.

But then the weight on his back is gone, the cock inside him slips free and with it a spurt of come. Cameras circle back around to catch the aftermath, hears a muttered nice from some crewmember when they see the twin puddle beneath himself.

He rolls his eyes, safe to do with no coverage on his face.

He feels so empty. Cold begins to creep in.

Steve blinks quickly. Why is his throat suddenly so tight?

Then another man approaches, is lifting his hips up, is pushing in with absolutely zero patience or attention paid to Steve at all. And that’s fine. It is.

They’re on a schedule, after all.

“Yippee!” Steve claps when Robin sets the plate of cake before him.

She joins him on the couch, a forkful of her own piece of cake already in her mouth. “I don’t know how you’re even sitting right now.”

“It’s honestly not that bad.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Look who’s literally talking.”

Robin pulls her own fork free and sticks her tongue out. “Seriously though, you sure you don’t need anything? A heating pad? Ointment? Therapy?”

“Ha ha. I already took care of what I needed to–stop making that face, oh my God. I’m just dandy, Robs, don’t worry. I want to veg out and watch tv for the next six months and gain like twenty pounds.”

“You are too skinny.”

“My point exactly.”

“But, still like. Wow.”

“I know.”

“Three-hundred sixty-eight guys. Whole ass men were inside you today. That has to be a health issue for the community or something, right? How are your insides not melting out of you right now? I should have laid down a towel to protect your precious piece of shit couch.”

“You’re so funny, and it’s our precious piece of shit couch.” But even so, Steve preens a little. He did it. He broke his goal and then some. “I’m gonna win that goddamn award if it kills me.”

He looks over when she doesn’t answer. Robin is looking down at her plate.

They’ve had this argument before.

“I’m taking a break,” he says, reaching for her hand. She squeezes, and he squeezes back. “Promise.”

Robin nods. “So,” she says, shaking herself from the momentary tension, “you mentioned one guy was unique. I’m almost afraid to ask.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“I mean, was he like eighty or something? Was he dressed all in latex with one of those gas masks? Did he have two dicks or what?”

Steve laughs, drops her hand to grab a pillow, and throws it at her instead.

Then he tells her.

In as much detail as she can handle, anyway.

“Did you get his number?” Robin asks, and frowns when Steve shakes his head no. “What about a name?”

“It was kind of a rush, an in the moment kind of thing. Wasn’t really time for a lot of talking.”

“Oh my God, Steve.”

And then, his best friend in the entire world has an absolutely batshit idea.

He gets the call sheet from his favorite producer, an easy going older man with decades of experience in the industry. He doesn’t ask questions.

Three days later, Steve's got a list of three-hundred-and-sixty-eight names, including himself and the crew. Beneath the call sheet is a packet of numbers and addresses.

It might be a crazy idea…but Steve’s one of the world’s leading gay adult film stars. He can afford to be a little crazy.

So when his sabbatical officially begins, Steve starts calling.

The first thing he tries is going down to number one-ninety-eight. That makes sense, and even Robin had agreed.

But the man who answered was a fifty with a slightly higher voice than he remembers. He quickly thanked Steve for the experience, and the paycheck, but explained he didn’t have any tattoos. He was afraid of needles.

Steve huffs, crossing the name and number off.

His guy was definitely younger than that, had a deep, smooth voice. Had ink that looked homemade from a glance.

The list he has is in no discernible order. It’s neither numerical nor alphabetical. He checks the first few addresses and finds it has nothing to do with location, either.

So he calls each and every single person. Actually blocks out time to do it around breaks and lunch, time spent with Robin which they both agree is long overdue.

After a week and a half of calls, Robin drags him to the beach for an afternoon of sunbathing and people watching.

“I don’t know, Robin. I already crossed off the guys I know, the ones I’ve seen in other projects. But I’ve still got over a hundred people left.”

“Says the guy who wanted to bang over three hundred guys. This is your own fault.”

“I know,” he agrees, swirling his fingers through the sand. “I’m just…I don’t know. Worried, I guess.”

“Why?”

“What if he thinks I’m a freak for tracking him down? What if he wants nothing to do with me?”

Robin snorts. He looks her way, sees her nose and cheeks are red from the sun despite her large sunhat. Her toes are dug into the sand, and the book she’d been reading lays forgotten on her stomach.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Steve. From what you told me, it sounded like he had a little crush.”

“Yeah, but that could have been my filmography talking. Lot of guys say I’m on their shortlist of dream lays. It’s like a fantasy thing for them.”

“Disgusting. Absolutely abhorrent,” she says easily. “But you said your guy was different. You think it was just an act?”

“I couldn’t tell. He seemed…sweet. If that makes sense?” Steve shrugs, hands her the bottle of sunscreen. “You need another layer. You’re turning into a tomato, birdie.”

She cups her hands, and he squeezes a dollop out. As she rubs the lotion into her skin, she seems to consider what he’s said.

“How sweet can an actor in a gangbang be?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Then you have to keep at it. You have to keep calling until you find him. You may strike out more often than not when it comes to dating, but you have, like, a good good people radar.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, you naturally attract decent people,” Robin says, smiling. “Take me, for example! I’m the best person you know.”

Heat climbs his face, settling at the tips of his ears. He sinks further into the beach foldout, embarrassed for a reason he can’t name. Robin’s smile turns knowing before softening into something closer to friendly pity.

Robin drops her book in the sand and stands, grabs Steve’s hand and starts pulling him toward the water’s edge.

“Come on, sourpuss, let’s go swim!”

He’s down to five people.

The phone numbers they gave were either disconnected or, more likely, fake. So he has no choice, really.

He decides to fully embrace his apparent new level of creepy stalker and physically visits their listed address.

The first three people are surprised but happy to see him, and he ends up sharing beers with two of them, but all three are very clearly not the person he’s looking for. The fourth is nice enough, if wary, but is in his forties and is trans. Is all too happy to show Steve the strap he used on the day. So that rules him out.

There’s one address left, and honestly Steve had been hoping it was a fluke. A mistake.

Because the address is in Hawkins, Indiana. His hometown.

He never chose a stage name, a mistake that many a producer and actor used to lecture him on in the first couple of years he was in the business. But he made it his own. It worked. His parents haven’t contacted him since he was kicked out, so if they know about his career choice, Steve isn’t aware. He prefers it that way.

He always imagined he’d send them a photo of him smiling with his AVN award when he finally won. A final, brief fuck you and career announcement all in one.

Needless to say he hasn’t been back to Hawkins once since he moved to LA. And though he isn’t shy about his legal name, Steve has never discussed his past, his childhood. Nobody in the industry that is legally allowed to discuss his association with Hawkins never has, because they simply don’t know.

Steve’s honestly a bit surprised nobody he used to know has reached out in the last five years. He knows Tommy at least frequented the sites his agency posts to. Nowadays, gay and straight films can be found in the same tags, same pages. Even if someone didn’t go looking for gay porn, they still might have come across Steve in something. An ad, even.

But no, nothing.

He’s not ashamed of what he does. He hasn’t actively avoided his past or anything. If anything, he’s simply strived to not care about it. It doesn’t matter. He hasn’t seen a Hawkins address in years.

Until now.

It’s weird. Could be some kind of underhanded prank. Maybe he should call his lawyer and tell him to expect some sort of blackmail soon.

The last four have led him to the neighboring cities around Los Angeles, but he’s not had to leave California yet. And being back in Indiana has him off his feet. Wrongfooted in some small way that leaves him feeling like a stranger. An impersonator.

He left small town life behind and made it big in a way that would have had every gossiping homebody’s heads turning if they knew.

Half expects to burst into flame the second he steps foot within city bounds.

But nothing happens. His rental car keeps driving. The turn off the highway is familiar, second nature.

He pulls into Hawkins and follows the directions parroted to him by his GPS. He notices several new fast-food places, the old mall has been redone, some houses seem bigger–but it’s still the same small, old town.

He comes to a crossroads. Left to Forest Hills Trailer Park where he’s never been, or right to what would eventually lead to Loch Nora and his childhood home.

He takes a left.

The trailer park isn’t huge, but each home has a small yard. He drives through a winding road that’s half gravel until he finds number fifty-three.

He parks, gets out and stands. Butterflies swarm his stomach, his palms sweating.

Steve gives himself a silent pep talk and walks up the short drive to the front door.

He knocks twice and waits.

It’s getting colder in Indiana. A few more weeks and there might be the first fall of snow. Back in California it was eighty-six degrees when he boarded the plane. He shivers.

Steve jumps a little when the door opens, the screen between him and an older man who frowns down at him.

“And who are you?”

“Hi! Hello. My name is Steve. I, um. Is there a Wayne Munson here by any chance?”

Steve steadies himself, tries to calm his rising nerves. He steps back to make room as the man opens the screen door and steps out into the early afternoon light.

“That would be me, son. Can I help you? You look a little lost.”

It’s not him.

Not his guy.

Steve’s stomach drops. Feels a little sick to his stomach.

The voice isn’t the same. It’s low, sure, but rougher with age. And Steve remembers the tickle of long hair along his skin. This man, Wayne Munson, is balding.

Unless he wore a wig…then, maybe…

He rechecks that this trailer is indeed number fifty-three.

“No, I uh. This is the place. This is going to sound strange, but I don’t suppose you have any tattoos?”

Wayne huffs. He pulls up his sleeve and shows Steve a faded old tattoo, a blue cross with blown out edges.

“Just the one.”

Steve nods, disheartened. “I see. Okay. I, uh, thanks for your time. I’ll just go–”

He turns, feeling foolish.

“Kid, wait a minute. Come on inside and warm up. You drink coffee?”

Steve debates. He’s cold, sure, but that’s an issue fixed by turning around and driving back to the airport to hop on a plane back to California.

Staying could turn out badly. Hawkins was never friendly to outsiders, and the rumor mill sprinted when it came to talk of things like sin and violating the good word of the Lord.

Steve’s pretty sure being a porn star is hidden somewhere in there.

And it was never a secret in backwoods like these people tended to dole out their own justice. Some kids were killed in Indy for being gay and working corners. Why not here, in the home of a man Steve doesn’t know?

He puts on his best smile. “That would be great, sir.”

The man drops his eyes to the ground, waves a hand at him. “Please, enough of that. I’m just Wayne. Always have been, always will be. Come on in, it’s not getting any warmer out here.”

Steve shuffles inside, thanking him. “Looks ready to snow soon.”

“Ah, another week or two I think. You from around here?”

“Used to be,” Steve says as Wayne gestures for him to sit on a stool at the kitchen counter. “I moved to California a few years back.”

“Hm.” Wayne starts a fresh pot of coffee, old-fashioned kettle on the stove. Steve’s grown used to his Keurig. “Big place compared to here. How d’you like it?”

“It’s busy. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“I imagine there’s always something for doing.”

Steve nods. “You’re right.”

“What d’you do for work out there? I’ve heard it’s all tech companies and wannabe actors.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Well, actually…I’m an actor.”

“Ah, geez. Don’t mind me, it’s the stereotype.”

“No offense taken,” Steve says. “It’s kind of the reason I’m here.”

“Do tell.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I had this big, uh. Film. Scene. A big scene. It required a lot of background actors. Extras, you know?” Wayne nods. Steve is flubbing this big time, Christ. “I kind of hit it off with one of the–one of them. Fell a little in love if I’m being honest. My best friend, she had this crazy idea to get the call sheet and go down the list to see if I could find him.”

Wayne’s eyes go a little wide and it’s only when the kettle starts whistling that Steve realizes his slip up.

But Wayne beats him to it. He takes the kettle off the burner and starts fixing two cups of coffee. Says, “Young love’s hard to come by, kid. I’ve been telling my boy for years now, if ya find somebody worth chasing, you run. Doesn’t matter the obstacles, if they’re a boy or girl. Just run to em.”

“That’s…that’s really good advice,” Steve mutters, surprised and relieved when Wayne doesn’t seem to have a problem with him. “Means a lot, being from here.”

“Me, I’m from back south, but Hawkins is home. Strange as it is to hear, this town’s actually progressive compared to where I grew up. But there’s still work to do, that’s for damn sure.”

Wayne reaches into a cabinet and brings down a bottle of liquor Steve recognizes all too well. Good quality bourbon. Steve doesn’t miss the healthy pour that goes into each mug.

“Good for warmin’ up,” Wayne says as he passes one mug to Steve. He goes for the fridge next and pulls out a half eaten chocolate cake. “You fancy a piece? My boy whipped it up, but I told him like hell he expects me to finish it on my own.”

“Oh, I don’t want to take up your time–”

“You’d be doing me a favor,” Wayne cuts in, smiling in a way his parents never did. Kind, warm. Real.

Steve relaxes the rest of the way, the tension leaving him all at once. Wayne Munson’s a good guy.

“I’d love one.”

“...and I told my boy, I said, if music is what you wanna do, you go and do it. Convinced him to get his GED and get out of dodge. School was never much of a Munson family pastime, anyway.”

“God, yeah. I hated school. I barely graduated, and that was still a few months after I got kicked out.”

Wayne shakes his head, takes a sip of his beer. They’re sitting on the front porch, watching the sun begin its slow descent. Steve almost forgot how pretty Indiana skies could be.

“I knew your folks, y’know. Back in high school. Forgive me for saying it, but your father was a real piece of work.”

Steve can’t help the bitter sound that leaves him. “Trust me, I know.”

“Can’t stand a parent dumping their kid on the world like that. More like dumping the world on their kid. Real life is tough shit. If you love your children, you don’t just abandon them to figure it out for themselves.”

Steve hums. Takes a chance. “It sounds like you’re talking from experience?”

Wayne scowls out into the distance. “It was just me and Al for a long time. Our parents weren’t around much, and when they were they weren’t the best. We all did what we could.” He shakes his head again, meets Steve’s eyes. “Just a shame Al turned out exactly like our old man. Couldn’t spot respectable if it bit him on the balls.”

Steve laughs again.

Wayne lifts his beer and points out to the gravel road. “‘Bout time!”

Steve looks out and watches an old beat-up van wind down the road, music getting louder the closer it gets.

“You’ve got company! You should have said. You’ve been so kind, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Wayne tells him good-naturedly. “That’s just my boy. Owes me dinner since I’ve cooked the last few.” Adds when the van is parking behind Steve’s rental, “You should stick around for supper. He makes a mean lasagna.”

“I really should…”

Then Steve sees him.

Wayne’s boy, who he’d assumed at first was his son but learned was the nephew he took in after his brother fucked up somewhere along the way.

Steve’s throat goes dry.

The music cuts off as the van door opens and out hops a man with wild black curls tied up into a mess of a bun. He’s not even looking their way as he hip checks the door closed and walks back to the double doors. He swings them open, grabs a duffle, many bags of groceries baring the local Krogers logo, and a large glass casserole dish that looks far too fragile to be balancing the way it is. Before he closes the doors again, a large orange tabby hops out and winds around his legs, rubbing and trotting after its owner as he heads up the drive.

“Sorry I’m late, old man. Store was packed, and then Garfield here didn’t want to…Oh.”

He slows when he sees his uncle has company. Stops completely when his eyes land on Steve.

The guy’s young, could be a few years on either side of Steve’s age. He’s wearing all black denim, complete with chains and large belt buckle. His knuckles are tattooed and Steve wonders where else he has them.

And he’s familiar is the thing.

And isn’t that funny?

Because back in school. Steve would play reckless and brash. He’d skip school, get in plenty of fights he always lost. Made friends with the wrong crowd and got into enough trouble. And he would wonder, in the way only a closeted bisexual boy could in the Midwestern US, what it would be like to run away with someone a little older, a little rougher, a little more mean. Someone who knew more about the world. Who didn’t give a shit about kid stuff like Steve used to, like reputation and dating and getting into girls’ pants as much as possible. On being the best all-American athlete he could so others would think, wow, that Steve Harrington sure is going places.

He would wonder, in profound secrecy and silence and repression, what it would be like to kiss someone like the man stood before him under the shade of a tall tree in the woods behind his house. What it might be like to touch another boy and not have to be afraid to death of the idea.

The large cat, Garfield, rubs up along Steve’s legs then. Walks a figure eight between them and yowls to be paid attention to. Steve reaches down to pet between his ears, is vaguely aware of the two other men talking to one another, of Wayne explaining why Steve is here, who Steve even is.

And Steve knows this guy. He does.

He’s got long hair. Tattoos, maybe more hidden away. Has plush lips and flushed cheeks from standing in the cold with arms weighed down by too many things, and, and–

“You’re–”

“I’m Steve,” Steve says, straightens back up and holds out his hand. “Steve Harrington.”

The other man gawks. A bag slips from his fingers and a tub of cream cheese goes rolling right back down the small incline.

“Jesus, boy,” Wayne’s muttering, walking down to help with the groceries. He grabs the serving dish first, then heads for the runaway cream cheese. “Where’d your manners go? Introduce yourself!”

Wayne grumbles as he heads after the thing.

Steve’s hand is grasped, shaken, held. Steve smiles. Wants to roll up the long sleeves to see if he’s covered in the bats he saw during filming.

“I’m Eddie,” Eddie says, breathes really.

And oh wow. Wow.

Steve doesn’t let go, and neither does Eddie.

“I heard you make a mean lasagna.”

A smile splits Eddie’s pretty mouth. “That so? I wonder who said that.”

“Somebody who loves his nephew a whole lot.”

“Huh, no idea. Could you clue me in?”

Steve steps closer. “Think a little harder? Maybe you forgot.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, and though it’s soft, it’s undeniable. “Always forgetting things, that’s me.”

It’s him.

Wayne passes them by again, taking another bag from Eddie’s hands. Eddie sets the rest down at their feet, sparkling, dark eyes never leaving Steve’s.

“Steve here’s an actor. Eddie, weren’t you telling me you had a gig down in LA with the band a few weeks back? What a coincidence, that.” He keeps walking.

Steve watches him go inside, Garfield hopping happily after him.

When he turns back around, Eddie’s close enough he can feel his breath.

Steve glances at his lips. Sees them bend with amusement.

“It’s funny.”

“What is?”

“King Steve, here in my uncle’s humble abode. What a surprise.”

King Steve is as close a moniker he’s ever received working in the industry. An irony that’s followed him from high school into adulthood, even though the two weren’t connected.

And something inside Steve breaks apart, blooms, shines.

It’s him.

Eddie reaches up, traces a thumb along his bottom lip.

“I think we’ve met.”

“I think you’re right.”

��Care to stay for some homemade cooking, your liege? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

The thumb at his lip dips, goes inside his mouth, briefly makes contact with Steve’s tongue. He wants to suck on it, wants to do a whole lot more.

“We definitely do.”

Eddie’s hand falls away. He picks up a few bags and lets Steve take the others.

And as Steve follows Eddie Munson, his mystery guy, inside it hits him all at once. A punch to the solar plexus.

Just knew you’d be so good for me. Could tell the first day I ever saw you.

He knows him.

You showed LA who’s king.

Not just from the shoot.

“Oh my God, I know you! We know each other!”

Eddie Munson, the guy who walked over lunch tables and caused a scene. The guy Tommy shoved into lockers. The guy who dealt at every party. The guy who wore denim and leather and was in a band. The guy Steve watched, who watched him right back.

Wanted you forever.

I was actually jealous, and look at us now.

Can’t believe how lucky I am.

I’ll remember this forever, sweetheart.

And Steve hurries in after him as Eddie’s knowing, familiar laughter leads the way.

#steddie #steddieedit #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #boltedfruit fic #ficlet #one shot fic #one shot #steddie fic

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