#it's only fair he gets payback ha ha ha ha ha

[helena-thompson]

I headcanon that the Slytherin seventh years only have one roommate instead of three, and Sebastian and Ominis are obviously paired up together.

And somehow, despite having a somewhat private bedroom in the Room of Requirement, a couch in the Undercroft, plus a myriad of other secret little hidey-holes around the castle and grounds to be alone in, Helena and Seb still end up getting frisky in Seb and Ominis' room... so Sebastian starts charming the door handle to give Ominis a little "shock" anytime they're in there messing around, so he doesn't accidentally walk in on them—like the wizard's version of a "sock on the door," if you will.

I just think it will be hilarious when Seb and Helena attempt to go in there one day and the doorknob shocks them, and they're like "Finally, Ominis is getting some action!" and meanwhile, Ominis is inside just chilling, reading a book or something, and charmed the handle so he could get some damn peace and quiet and not deal with their shenanigans. 🤣

[jezebelblues]

I just started following you a while ago and I love your work so much, I was even considering restarting my blog to write!

I was wondering, can I request something about the reader being a college student? And maybe harry is taking a break from touring and writing music. He’d probably try to make jokes and distract her sometimes, but he’d also want her to teach him stuff and debrief after class. He might even get serious about her study sessions and be super quiet, but also bring her snacks here and there.

If you get to write this, thank you sm!! 😊

𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 | 𝐇.𝐒 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

summary: see request ^ basically that, but it’s a slight au because harry isn’t tooooo famous in this

| thank u anon <3 ur too sweet. i hope u got back into writing

cw: fem!reader, unedited. bf!harry, lhh

word count: approx 4.4k

| sorry this took so long to get to! i’ve been in a slump. i hope you don’t mind either that i made him more of an up-and-coming artist rather than the fame he has today :^) lhh just felt right for this too he’s so bf

masterlist

"you did what?" YN laughed, her fingers coated in the smooth, familiar feel of one of harry's leave-in conditioners as she worked it into his damp curls, gently coaxing through knots and tangles that told stories of long nights and late shows.

harry sat on on leg while the other hung lazily off her bed, shirtless, his skin glistening faintly under the dim dorm lights, still cool and damp from his shower. a well-worn towel hung low on his hips, clinging to him in soft folds, and he twisted the silver ring on his index finger, flashing that crooked, boyish grin that still managed to make her heart skip.

"yes—water," he said, a hint of pride in his voice as he looked up at her through dark lashes. "poured it right into the crowd. they went mental."

she chuckled, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot as his head tipped back, giving her a better angle. "do i even want to know why you did that?"

"beer," he replied simply, with a lazy shrug and a mischievous glint in his eye. he shifted, turning to face her fully, the mattress giving a soft creak under his weight as he adjusted. "they were flinging beer at me, so i figured it was fair game. bit of payback," he said with a smirk, his voice deepening in that low, conspiratorial way that she adored.

her lips tugged into a soft smile as she leaned in, her eyes tracing the ink on his skin, pausing over the small mermaid tail curling near his elbow. she felt the room go still for a beat, her fingers just barely grazing his tattooed arm. "tell me more?" she murmured, barely above a whisper.

but instead of answering, he caught her hand in his own, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he brought her palm up, pressing it gently against the warm, bare skin just below his left breastbone. his expression softened, and his voice dipped, tender and a little unsteady. "was thinking–right here. your initial." his gaze searched hers, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that made her heart skip, lingering between them in a way that left her breathless.

a small, breathy laugh escaped her as she drew her hand back, fingers trailing down his chest as she settled back on the bed, her heart fluttering with that same familiar warmth that only he could draw out of her. "about the show, styles," she chided, though her cheeks had warmed at the idea. it was all she could do to keep her voice steady, even as that look in his eyes held her captive, that glimmer of something deeper, something unspoken.

with a lazy grin, he slumped back on her bed, folding his arms behind his head as if he owned every inch of this tiny dorm room. he was still her harry—the one who'd lean against her door at ungodly hours after a gig, smelling faintly of stale smoke and beer, his voice barely a murmur as he recounted the night's little victories and mishaps. but there was something else in his eyes tonight, an edge softened by the dim light, his hand inching toward hers, fingers grazing against hers.

he gave her a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, but she could see the way his eyes lit up, the pride he tried to hide. "alright, picture this—tiny, cramped stage, lights barely working, and a crowd that's already three drinks too deep."

she chuckled, already seeing it. "sounds like your crowd."

"my exact type.” he hummed, eyes glimmering. "i was halfway through kiwi when this guy in the front row starts singing louder than me. like, absolutely shouting every word—more like repeating guess, i don’t think he knew the lyrics—didn't care if he was off-key or not."

"oh no," she gasped, theatrics, biting back a grin. "how did you handle that?"

"well, first i tried to ignore him. y'know, be professional and all." he raised his chin, like he was already picturing himself on a real stage. "but then he threw his beer in the air, and half of it hit me, so i thought, why not join him?"

she felt the words settle over her, a quiet intimacy that wrapped around them, thick and warm. she let herself lean into him, their knees brushing, her hand finding his and lacing their fingers together. here, in this cocoon of her dimly lit dorm room, the outside world faded. it was just him-her’s, with his rough edges, inked skin, and soulful eyes that held a thousand unspoken promises.

"so," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow circles over his knuckles, "it was a good show then?"

a soft laugh escaped his lips, his eyes dancing as he looked at her. "good? better than good, baby." he said, a certain fire in his voice as he recalled the night. "place was packed-should've seen it. they might've only been there for the drink deals, but by the time we hit the first chorus, they were in it." he paused, a flicker of excitement lighting up his face as he leaned closer. "even had this one bloke shouting for an encore, practically begged us not t’leave."

she could see the pride, the kind that was so uniquely his—modest, but bursting at the seams, a quiet confidence that only she got to witness in moments like this. her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. "sounds like a big deal," she teased, her voice softening as she held his gaze. "next thing i know, you'll be playing to actual crowds, not just randoms at pubs."

"don't tease me," he chuckled, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "could happen. could be my big break, y'know? today, it's a back alley pub with sticky floors—tomorrow, a real venue." he looked at her, his expression shifting from playful to something quieter, almost vulnerable. "maybe even a place you'd be proud to be seen at."

she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "h, i'm already proud of you." and she meant it—down to the core of her. there was a strength in his persistence, his dreams kept alive by late nights and small crowds, his music spilling into the shadows of empty bars and dim lights. it was the kind of resilience most people never understood, but it was something she loved about him, something that made him feel like home.

his hand shifted, cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he searched her eyes. "how'd i get so lucky, yeah?" he murmured, almost as if to himself. he looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, the weight of the night lingering between them, the quiet promise of everything they'd built together.

she tilted her face into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed him in-the faint smell of his shampoo, mingling with the scent of rain from outside and something warm, something distinctly him. her hand found his chest, fingertips resting over the steady beat of his heart.

"can i stay tonight?" he asked softly, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of their shared silence.

she nodded, her lips brushing over his knuckles as she squeezed his hand. "wouldn't want you anywhere else."

with that, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like a thousand words, soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. harry's hand slid from her cheek down to her neck, his fingertips tracing a delicate line along her collarbone, sending a soft shiver through her. the playful glint in his eye had shifted, replaced by something deeper, a heat she felt all the way down to her toes. he inched closer, the rough rasp of his stubble brushing her jaw as his lips found the soft skin just below her ear.

"you're staring," she murmured, voice low, a smile on her lips as her fingers traced along his shoulder, her touch grazing the edge of his tattoo.

"can't help it." he whispered, his voice low and rough, leaving no question about what he wanted. his fingers trailed down her back, pulling her just a little closer as his towel slipped dangerously low on his hips, clinging to him in a way that left little to the imagination. "s'not every day i get my girl all to myself, undistracted." his fingers slipped just beneath the hem of her shirt, his thumb stroking slow, lazy circles along her hipbone, sending a faint shiver up her spine.

she felt herself melting into him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw before wandering down to rest on his chest. his skin was warm, firm beneath her touch, and she felt the steady beat of his heart thrumming under her fingertips. just for a moment, she let herself get lost in it-the way his hands roamed, slow and sure, his lips brushing her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth.

but as his hands started to wander lower, his towel barely hanging on, she bit back a smile and placed her hand flat on his abdomen, feeling the firm, taut muscles tense under her touch. she let her fingers linger for a moment before giving him a light flick, snapping him out of the haze that had taken over.

he kissed his teeth, head snapping up, a shocked, slightly betrayed expression crossing his face as he met her gaze. she smirked, letting her eyes trail up and down him with a playful glint before meeting his eyes, her voice light and teasing.

"don't get too excited, styles. i've got an essay to write, remember?"

he blinked, looking adorably lost for a second, then let out a groan, throwing himself back on the bed in dramatic defeat, one arm flung over his face. "an essay, bunny? now?" he peeked at her from under his arm, a playful pout tugging at his lips. "you're really gonna make me lie here in agony while you write about... what? politics? shakespeare?"

"modern lit," she corrected, grabbing her laptop from the bedside table with a grin. she settled beside him, nudging his leg with her knee as he sighed in exaggerated frustration. "i'll make it up to you," she added, her voice sweet but her expression mischievous.

"is that right?" he asked, raising a brow, his mood instantly lightening as he leaned up on one elbow to watch her type. "what kind of 'make it up' are we talking, then?"

she rolled her eyes, though her smile softened.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?"

“mm-hm, i know,” he chuckled, unbothered. he kept his eyes trained on her as she adjusted the computer in her lap, fingers flying across the keys as she tried to ignore his gaze.

but she could already feel his fingers tracing idle patterns along her thigh, his head resting on her shoulder as he sighed dramatically, determined to make her work for it. “fine,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder, knowing she wasn’t going to let up. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you when i’m too tortured to focus on my next gig.”

she shook her head, grinning. “i think you’ll survive.” and despite his protests, she felt him settle beside her, his hand wrapped loosely around hers as he waited, patient and easy, for the essay to be done—and for the night to be theirs again.

after a few more minutes of him sighing and shifting beside her, nudging her leg with his knee, or letting his fingers brush distractingly over her shoulder, she finally gave him a pointed look. “lovey, come on. at least put some pants on,” she said, biting back a laugh as he gazed up at her with an exaggerated look of betrayal.

“y’sure baby?” he mumbled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a cheeky grin as he adjusted the towel around his waist, letting it dip low enough to reveal the line of his hip bones. he leaned in close, his face just inches from hers. “last chance to give up on that essay.”

she rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly as she tried to suppress a smile. “h. pants. now.”

he sighed dramatically, rolling off the bed and muttering under his breath as he crossed the room, as if she’d asked him to do something outrageous. “you’re cruel, you know that?” he grumbled, pulling on a pair of briefs, followed by his well-worn grey sweatpants. he shot her a mock glare as he snapped the waistband into place. “i hope that essay’s worth it,” he teased, flopping back down on the bed with another exaggerated groan.

but he couldn’t keep up the act for long. settling beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her snug against him as he leaned over her, his gaze shifting to the screen of her laptop. she felt him press a quick kiss to the side of her head, and then he tilted his head curiously, reading the words on her screen. “alright, genius. what’re we working on?”

she grinned, knowing his curiosity was genuine—harry was the only person who ever asked about her classes, who remembered the details of her projects, who even stayed up late to help her brainstorm ideas when she got stuck. “it’s for my modern lit paper,” she said, turning the laptop slightly so he could see the opening lines. “i’m writing about identity in contemporary poetry.”

his brow furrowed, and he gave a thoughtful hum. “identity, huh?” his fingers started playing with a strand of her hair, twisting it absently as he thought. it still smelt like her lavender shampoo. “so, like–how people see themselves? or how they think they should be seen?”

she nodded, feeling a warm flutter in her chest at the way he genuinely tried to understand. “yeah, lovey, exactly. it’s about how people present different versions of themselves, depending on the world around them. how sometimes people feel like they have to hide who they really are, or adapt, to fit in.”

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he took that in, a small crease forming between his brows. “guess i know a bit about that,” he murmured, almost to himself, then gave her a soft smile. “makes sense, though. we’re all trying t’figure it out, right?”

she looked at him, her heart swelling at the way he always found a way to connect with her world, to show up and care. he wasn’t just the guy who played guitar in pubs and poured water over the crowd—he was thoughtful and reflective, her safe place and her biggest support. she reached out, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead, her gaze softening.

he met her eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her type a few lines, completely relaxed against her side. “y’really like this stuff, don’t you?”

she nodded, feeling her cheeks warm. “i do. and i like that you care enough to ask.”

he grinned, his hand resting over hers on the keyboard. “wouldn’t miss it, bunny. i want to know it all. even the boring bits,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her temple. “so… what’s next? how do y’wrap this thing up?”

as she dove into her explanation, she felt him settle in closer, his head resting on her shoulder, eyes flicking back and forth between her face and the screen. and even though he’d begun the night wrapped in little more than that towel and mischief, there was something about the way he lay beside her now—calm, engaged, just there for her.

after a while, she tried to concentrate on the closing argument of her essay, but harry’s hand found a lock of her hair again, twirling it lazily around his finger, his touch warm and gentle. every so often, he’d place a quick, messy kiss on her cheek, or the side of her head, each one more dramatic than the last, until she couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, nudging him back.

“alright, enough with the distractions,” she muttered, shooting him a mock-stern look as he grinned back, clearly pleased with himself.

but he was relentless. when she referenced another poet, he piped up, a mischievous look in his eyes. “ah, yes, that guy,” he said, tone teasing as he tapped his chin as though he were deep in thought. “big fan. wrote that one poem about… feeling feelings, right?”

she rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh. “harry, i’m serious.”

“hey, i am too!” he replied, the grin on his face only widening. “poetry’s got layers, YN. all about emotions and metaphors.” he lifted an eyebrow, giving her a wink that made her want to laugh and push him off the bed all at once.

she groaned, turning back to her screen, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. despite his teasing, she knew he respected her work and thought she was smart, even if he pretended to be clueless just to get a rise out of her.

a few minutes passed, and she found herself stuck, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she struggled to find the right words to tie everything together. she could feel harry’s gaze on her, his eyes flicking between her face and the screen, and right then, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.

harry’s eyebrows shot up, and a playful, knowing smirk crossed his face. “oh, is that how it is, then?” he said, nudging her gently. “i’m over here pouring my heart and soul into supporting you, and you’re starving yourself for art.”

she laughed, rolling her eyes as she tried to wave him off. “it’s fine, i just need to—”

but he was already halfway across the room, grabbing his phone with a sense of purpose, tapping away with single-minded determination. “nope, not happening. i’m ordering us food. you’re no good to me fainting on the job,” he teased, tossing her a grin as he started scrolling through options on doordash.

she watched him, warmth blooming in her chest at the sight of his focused expression as he debated between a few late-night favorites. his finger paused on the screen, and he shot her a look over his shoulder. “what are we feeling? i know goodfella’s is open late.”

she hummed, folding her arms and pretending to think. “their pizza sounds good.”

“perfect. what kind?” he asked, giving her that soft, endearing look that always managed to make her heart skip.

“surprise me,” she said, her eyes crinkling with a smile as he turned back to his phone, murmuring thoughtfully to himself as he made his selections.

once he’d ordered, he slid back beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders, pulling her close as he planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “alright, aristotle. you’ve got about twenty minutes to wrap this up before the pizza gets here.”

she grinned, feeling a rush of renewed energy as she settled back into her laptop, his warmth beside her and the promise of food on the way. and as she typed out her final thoughts, she felt his hand come up to her hair again, his fingers working through her locks in a gentle rhythm as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, watching her with a soft smile.

“think you’re about to blow the rest of the class outta the water.” he muttered, his voice low and genuine, cutting through the playful teasing of earlier.

she paused, glancing over at him, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “you think so?”

he nodded, brushing his nose gently against her cheek. “definitely. i knew you were brilliant the first time i met you. just, you know, don’t forget me when you’re off being some lit professor with a fancy office and your own bookshelf in every bookstore.”

she laughed, shaking her head. “you’ll be playing stadiums by then, styles. i think you’ll be just fine.”

once harry met the driver outside of the dorm and made his way back up the stairwell to the second floor of her building, they sat cross-legged on the bed, the pizza box open between them, warm and smelling faintly of melted cheese and marinara. YN took a bite, savoring the comfort of it as they eased into the rhythm of their usual conversations. she told him stories about her classes—about the professor who insisted everyone call him by his first name and the girl who always argued with the readings in ways that both amused and baffled her. he listened intently, his eyes focused on her like she was the most fascinating person in the world, laughing at all the right moments, nodding as if every small detail mattered. and for harry, it did.

soon enough, the conversation shifted, and he told her stories from his recent gigs—how the second-to-last venue had practically been held together with duct tape, how he’d overheard some guy loudly claim he could “totally play guitar better than that dude.” she laughed at the way he imitated the voice, rolling his eyes in good-natured frustration. “seriously,” he groaned, grinning through a bite of pizza, “the heckling never stops, even when you’re playing to like, fifteen people.”

she nudged him with her knee, a smirk tugging at her lips. “just you wait, one day those fifteen people are going to turn into fifteen thousand, and that guy will still be standing there with his pint, going on about how he should be the one on stage.”

harry’s face softened, his gaze lingering on her. “you’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.”

“maybe,” she said with a wink, brushing a crumb off his cheek.

they fell into their easy banter, and soon enough, poetry came back up. she was telling him about one of the poets she was analyzing, the language they used and the intricate metaphors she was supposed to decipher, when harry raised a brow, an amused look crossing his face. “you’re talking like i don’t write poetry myself, you know.”

“oh, really?” she teased, leaning back with her arms folded, a skeptical look on her face. “let’s hear it, shakespeare.”

with a grin, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his notes until he stopped on something, looking a bit sheepish but handing it over to her with a small smile. “here. latest masterpiece.” he joked with a shrug, though he seemed a bit nervous. “study it in your lit classes ‘n all that.”

she took his phone, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the title: adore you. her chest warmed as she started reading through the words. it wasn’t like the love poems she read for lectures, full of flowery language and convoluted metaphors. no, this was simple, but sincere—lines that felt raw, real, and vulnerable in a way that only he could make them. each line felt like a glimpse into him, into the parts of himself that he shared only with her, the quiet moments, the late nights, the laughter and gentle touches that only they knew.

when she finished, she looked up at him, unable to hide the wide smile spreading across her face. “harry, this is—you’re so cute.” she said, her voice soft with genuine awe. “forget those old poets i read about. they’ve got nothing on you.” she squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she looked back down at the lyrics, rereading her favorite lines.

a blush crept up his cheeks, and he gave a little shrug, pretending to brush off her praise, but she could see the way his eyes shone, how much her words really meant to him. he nudged her playfully, leaning in with a grin. “you know it’s about you, yeah?”

she felt her heart flutter, her smile growing even wider as she met his gaze. “is it now?”

“obviously,” he chuckled, shaking his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean, who else am i going to write about? you’re the one i can’t stop thinking about. the one who makes every line worth writing.”

she felt warmth bloom in her chest, reaching out to lace her fingers with his. “well,” she said softly, “then i think i’m the luckiest girl alive.”

he squeezed her hand, his expression softening as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. for a moment, they stayed like that, their hands intertwined, the world outside her tiny dorm room slipping away. it was just him, his steady heartbeat under her palm, his soft gaze that held a world of promises, and the quiet knowledge that he’d put it all into words just for her.

“so, poetry and pizza,” he murmured, his lips curving into a contented smile as he leaned back, pulling her into his chest. “didn’t think my night could get any better.”

“oh, really?” she teased, settling against him, her head resting just under his chin. “not even if i let you watch me struggle through the rest of my essay?”

“thrilling stuff,” he joked, his hand trailing gentle patterns along her arm. “actually, it’s all kind of perfect, YN. you, me, pizza, some poetry… maybe the start of a terrible song i’ll write when i can’t sleep tonight.”

“a song about pizza and poetry?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“why not?” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “everyone needs a little inspiration, hm?”

she laughed, and the sound seemed to brighten the whole room, making everything feel light and carefree. “i’d listen to it.”

“i’ll dedicate it to you,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice softening. “after all, you’re my favorite muse.”

they sat like that for a while, the remnants of their pizza scattered around them, the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. she felt her eyes growing heavy, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing hum of his voice as he mumbled quiet words of nonsense, half-asleep, just for her.

“hey,” she whispered after a while, her voice soft, almost a breath. “thank you for being here. for everything.”

“always,” he murmured, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. “wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

[fayes-fics]

Right In Front Of You

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Sometimes, the thing you most need is right in front of you...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, vaginal fingering, smidge of dirty talk, orgasm. Friends to lovers, only one bed.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Request fill for @eecummingsandgoings, who asked for only one bed trope with Benedict. Thanks to the awesome @colettebronte for beta reading and for the title suggestion! This is a seasonal-ish fic set in early December. Enjoy! <3

“You guys are so late!” 

Melanie draws you into a bear hug after her fond chastisement.

“Blame this one,” you roll your eyes and signal a thumb over your shoulder to Benedict as he wanders up the path behind you. “He was supposed to be on map-reading duty after we ran out of phone signal.”

With a big smile, he mimes being stabbed in the chest before he receives a welcoming embrace as well.

“He’s been shit at directions since uni; why the hell did you have him navigate?” she chimes, taking your coats as you peel them off and hanging them in the hallway cupboard. 

“Because you have experienced his driving,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, good point,” Melanie guffaws.

“Starting to take this personally now,” Benedict pipes up with a good-natured chuckle as she ushers you both further into the cottage.

“This is nice!” you comment as you survey the place.

Its snug warmth is like an enveloping embrace on this cold, early December day. It's an Airbnb rental in the Lake District and looks suitably rustic but modernised with an open-plan layout—a perfect venue for a uni friends reunion. 

“Well, I'm afraid you two are so late that everyone has already nabbed the good bedrooms,” she announces. “You will have to share the other attic room, two floors up.”

“I'm sure we will be fine,” Benedict blithely responds. 

“It's only got one bed,” she cackles.

“Bagsy the bed!” you crow, turning to look at him triumphantly.

“Fine, I’ll take the floor,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

While chivalrous, it also seems fair payback, given that he got you so horrendously lost on a single-track country lane, going miles in the wrong direction. Sharing the drive up from London was supposed to take about five hours, not the almost seven that it ended up being by the time you eventually got back on the right road. 

Leaving your bags in the hallways, you greet and join the gaggle of friends in the living room area, crowding onto the sectional sofa and beanbags. Melanie, always the mother hen of the group, stands across the room at the kitchen island, stirring a huge casserole dish that smells delicious.

“Alright, you bastards, come and get it,” she calls not long after you settle.

So, all twelve of you decamp to the long table, and drinks flow as you tuck into a hearty, tasty stew. The group have come without their spouses or other halves, except Dave and Andrea have been together since the second year and are still going strong more than ten years later—well, and one other exception.

“Matt brought Vanessa?” you comment into Melanie’s shoulder while conversation flows in little groups.

“Yeah, I know,” she winces. “Sorry…”

“No, it's not that. I just think it’s a bit odd. She’ll have to endure so many old uni tales and in-jokes all weekend. She’ll have little idea what we are all on about…” 

Matt is your ex, yes, but you broke up almost a year ago now. You didn't get together until five years after uni, and in hindsight, you wish you never had. Vanessa is his first girlfriend since your breakup. You've been alone since—the only singleton left in the group.

“Drink up,” Melanie advises sagely, refilling your wineglass almost to the brim. “They have the other attic bedroom that backs onto yours, and even though the stone walls here are thick, I've heard rumours she is a loud one.”

“Urgh…” you take a large gulp, not savouring the idea of hearing your ex and his new woman having sex through an adjoining wall.

The rest of the evening passes pleasantly: wine flowing, a lovely time as you all catch up and trade stories. Jon recounts a hilariously disastrous holiday in Portugal that ended happily with him meeting his current partner Simon on the plane home, which earns him a round of applause. 

The first to turn in is Matt and Vanessa, and not long after, others start to yawn and make their excuses, the drive from various corners of the country taking its toll on everyone. 

Benedict grabs your bag as well as his, you trailing behind, making your way slightly gingerly up the second, narrower, steeper staircase to the attic rooms.

“I guess this is us,” he notes, nodding to the only door without a faint lamp glow leaking underneath.

You follow him into the room as he dumps the bags and flicks on a sidelight. It's not big but it’s homely, if a little chilly compared to downstairs, heated by the fireplace as it was.

“Ben, you can’t sleep on the floor; there's a draught,” you remark as you sit on the bed and pull off your fuzzy socks, a coolness wafting over your toes.                                        

“I’ll be alright,” he assures genially, opening the wardrobe to gather a pile of blankets.

“And there's not much room,” you assess, realising the floor space is minimal unless he lays near the chimney, likely the source of the problem. “Seriously, we can share.”

An odd expression clouds his face briefly before he agrees and quickly excuses himself to the bathroom. You do the same after he returns. He is already under the covers, peering at his phone through reading glasses when you shuffle back into the room in your PJs.

“Are you sure about sharing?” he checks as you round the bed to climb into the other side.

“Yes, you idiot,” you chuckle, playfully swatting his leg through the duvet. “Nothing for Paul to worry about,” you add in jest, referring to his boyfriend of over two years now.

He goes so still that you twist to look at him. He is biting his lip with an almost sheepish mein. 

“We, umm, broke up about a month ago,” he elucidates quietly.

“God, I'm so sorry; why didn't you say before??!” 

It strikes you as odd that he never even mentioned it in the hours you were stuck in the car together. He had just sat dutifully, supplying supportive words as you lamented the dating scene. 

“Well, you’ve been away travelling…” 

“I meant today.”

“Oh, well, I guess I didn't really see the point, seeing as everyone has left their plus-ones at home,” he shrugs, then tilts his head back. “Well, apart from that idiot,” he adds, referencing Matt through the wall.

“Yeah, I thought that a bit odd he brought her… but anyway, do you want to talk about it? Paul?” you offer, wanting to give your good friend the opportunity to vent.

“Very kind,” he smiles briefly. “But no. I'm sick of talking about it, to be honest. Daph has been non-stop trying to agony aunt the situation, and Eloise has been plying me with alcohol and barbs about all of my terrible life choices, not just Paul,” he grimaces mildly.

You chuckle, knowing exactly how that has likely been going.

“You know he just brought Vanessa to make you jealous, don't you?” Benedict changes tack, keeping his voice soft even though it's unlikely to carry through the thick stone wall.

“Maybe,” you hesitate, then sigh: “I'm over him and his nonsense, to be honest.”

“You were always far too good for him.”

“Hah!”

“I mean it,” he insists, an abrupt intensity to his gaze that causes butterflies.

There’s no point denying your attraction to Benedict; he's a very handsome man. But it's always felt like a harmless crush; you doubt you are his type, and he’s not been single for many years. 

“You are just trying to butter me up before you take over the whole bed like an octopus and snore in my face,” you deflect with humour.

“You never could take a compliment, could you?” he chastises gently, taking off his reading glasses and setting aside his phone.

“Please, I would never take any compliment from you seriously,” you riposte dryly. “I knew of your charmer reputation from the very first day of uni. Everyone did. Your Bridgerton reputation preceded you.”

“Entirely unfair to be tarred with the same brush as my lothario of a brother,” he sighs with mock burden. “I mean, yes, okay, at uni, I was a little…”

“Slutty?” you interject

“... adventurous..” he corrects with a narrowing of his hazy eyes, “but nothing like the rumours suggest. I just got with a couple of raconteurs early on who vastly overstated my abilities and skills,” he demures.

You know the truth is somewhere in between the polyamorous, bisexual playboy reputation and the modest version he is claiming.

“Besides, that was years ago,” he points out with a dismissive gesture. “I've had a total of five lovers in the last ten years.” 

It is indeed true. Before Paul was Tilly, Tessa, Gen and Henry. He’s been surprisingly monogamous since his earlier, sluttier years.

“Ready to sow your wild oats again?” you ask, bumping him lightly with your shoulder.

“Hah!” it's his turn to scoff.

Just then, a distinct female moan filters through the wall. When it happens again, your eyes dart to each other.

“Oh god, Mel warned me this might happen,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands.

“Told you,” Benedict clucks. “This is definitely designed to make you jealous.”

“Pfft, please. Believe me, he's not that good; she's just a really vocal one, apparently.” 

For some reason, you are keen for Benedict to know Matt is not the best you've had. Not bad, but not exactly worthy of the decidedly rousing review Vanessa is now giving through the wall.

“Want to beat him at his own game?” 

His face is all permission and danger, making your pulse race, uncertain about what that could mean. But then he breaks into a goofy grin and throws back the covers, athletically jumping to his feet on the bed next to you, looking equal parts adorable and attractive in navy tartan pyjama bottoms and a dark grey t-shirt. He takes a few test bounces, the metal springs of the bedframe under the mattress squeaking mildly in protest as he does so.

“C'mon!” he coaxes, grabbing your arms and hauling you upwards onto your feet. “I think with a few bounces and choice noises, we can make our point.”

Perhaps it's mostly the three glasses of wine, but it seems like a funny idea. You both start to bounce, grasping each other's hands and giggling, the bed beginning to rattle against the adjoining wall as you work up a jumping pace.

“Make it sound like you are having the time of your life,” he proposes, laughing.

Your attempted noise of pleasure has you flushing with embarrassment at the feeble result.

“Oh, I know you can do better than that!” Benedict incites, eyes glittering with mischief. 

“I really can't,” you protest.

“Follow my lead. I’m not above a touch of theatrics,” he winks.

Benedict groans loudly, and despite the absurdity of the situation, it makes something run hot and electric through your body. He peers at you expectantly, awaiting your rejoinder. 

You cringe as, once again, your second attempt is lacking.

“Loosen up,” he rags lightly before repeating his very distracting noise. “C’mon, just imagine I am the best sex of your life.”

Your traitorous mind finds it remarkably easy to settle on that idea. Supplying a vivid picture of Benedict looming over you, a beguiling lopsided grin on his face as he takes you apart with long fingers buried between your legs. Just the thought has you biting your lip, but not before a feral noise escapes entirely without you meaning it to.

“Oh yes, that's much more like it,” he looks slightly taken aback but entirely approving. He leans in close as he requests: “Just a little louder.” 

Then with a grin, he turns to face the wall and pounds his fists onto the thick, rough stone. 

“Yeah baby!!”  His decidedly Austin Powers-like call echoes up along the ceiling as he tilts his head back, going fully theatrical.

“WE GET THE FUCKING HINT, BRIDGERTON!!”

Matt’s muffled, annoyed yell through the wall has you exchanging looks before collapsing back down onto the bed and rolling around in fits of quiet giggles.

“Well, it worked… I don’t think you were much help at all, though, if I’m honest,” Benedict opines breezily. “I definitely did the heavy lifting.”

“Perhaps I’m just not a loud sex noises person,” you posit.

“Then you haven’t been having the right sex. Which, given you were dating Matt, is sort of a foregone conclusion,” he needles genially.

“Not all of us are Vanessas… or apparently Benedicts.” 

He laughs heartily before countering: “I bet you could be. I’d happily try to have you screaming the roof down if I thought you’d ever bloody let me…”

It's a record-scratch moment that has your stomach flipping even as outwardly, all you do is scoff at the patently ridiculous idea. He must be kidding. He has never given you any vibes of being remotely interested in you in that way.

“Let you?! Bitch, please. As if you’d want to!” you rebut, wine stealing your filter. 

He turns towards you, seemingly in slow motion, breathing slightly heavy from the recent exertion, his cadence dropping low with words that sound like a warning. 

“Don't play that game.”

“I’m not playing any game,” you frown even as your heart speeds up at the challenging glint in his eye. “Ben, honestly, I… I'm not,” you stutter, all your assumptions about him scattering. “I… I didn't think you saw me that way…”

He twists up to hover over you. It appears he reads the honesty behind your stilted words, surprise rippling across his features before a breathtaking, troublesome look takes its place.

“You never could see what was right in front of you, either, could you?” 

Although rhetorical, you have no response anyway. Buffering as his lip quirks appealingly, a burst of heat behind your ribs as he leans down closer.

“Will you let me?” 

“Let you what?” 

Your whispered response is entirely too breathy and wanton. A delicious crackle in the air as Benedict stares down at you, inches apart, lips and cheeks flushed dark, likely a mirror of your own.

“Test your theory.”

The slow sweep of his glistening tongue over his lower lip breaks your resistance.

“Yes…” 

Your shaky exhale of permission may be barely audible but seems so loud to your own ears. 

And suddenly, his mouth is on yours.

The kiss starts soft and almost hesitant, but alcohol and desire coursing through your veins make you impatient, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to tug him closer, craving his weight and heat to engulf you. And that is what he does as his lips part yours, his tongue seeking permission you readily give as he presses you into the mattress. It’s a blur as you take from each other greedily, open-mouthed, demanding kisses that never seem to end.

“I need to hear you make that sound again,” he rumbles, kissing over your cheek, snagging your earlobe between his teeth, breath gusting hot into your neck.

Boldly, you grab his wrist and, throwing all caution to the wind, guide it lower between your legs. His fingers curl into the cotton, sinking into the heat, knowing you are seeping through the thin material.

“Are you always so wet?” He whispers, impressed, kissing a line over your throat.

You don’t answer, not wanting to say that it’s all him, instead pulling him in for another searing kiss, hoping he will get the hint. Sure enough, as you suck greedily on his questing tongue, he slowly swipes, locating your swollen clit with just one move. Just that slight nudge has your body alight, stuttering into his mouth, spine arching up off the bed, pushing your breasts into him. 

“I want to make you come,” he admits breathily, dilated pupils trained on you as you squirm under his touch.

“Please do.”

His groan is poetic, an insistent mass nudging your hip promisingly as he leans into you. You glance down, mesmerised by the veins on his hand as he moves to pluck at the bow at your waistband until it relents. His touch spiders under the material, trailing through your trimmed hair and then between your legs, a delicious noise in the back of his throat as his bare fingertips slide into your wetness. 

You want to ride his digits until you are screaming, want them buried in you so far you see stars. Want him to make you suck your juices from between his knuckles, him calling you all the filthy words under the sun as you do so.

“Whatever you are thinking of, tell me,” he pleads, his other hand sweeping into your hair, cradling the back of your head, a slight pull on your scalp that just heightens everything. “I just want you to use me. Take what you need from me; just please make that perfect noise again.”

“God Ben….” You stumble, never having had someone make such an offer before. So much pent-up desire you are quaking as you answer without artifice: “I was thinking of your fingers inside me.”

You don’t even have to ask him for it, he twists his wrist, and you moan as two fingers breach your weeping pussy, a slick noise filling the air as your body suctions onto his invasion. He utters a curse, perhaps taken aback by just how soaked you are. You inhale sharply, grasping the corded muscle of his forearm as he slides deep, his knuckles grazing your walls, reaching places you cannot.

He begins to softly stroke you, massaging in a rhythm that has your mouth slack, staring at him wide-eyed; then his thumb nudges your clit at the same time, and you are unable to prevent the loud staccato groan it elicits.

“Yessss, there it is..” he hisses triumphantly, kissing your temple. 

You nuzzle his cheek until he takes your hint, kissing you again, plundering, you making the noise again, open-mouthed, against his teeth and tongue, dripping onto his palm as he takes you higher, an electric hum racing under your skin. His thumbnail catches deliciously under your clitoral hood as he strums your swollen nub. Somehow it feels illicit, both of you still clothed in your nightwear, a tented outline in his pyjamas nudging your hip as you shamelessly ride now, a dewyness gathering inside your tank top at the flush of desire enveloping your skin.. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” he goads, “ride my hand properly. Use me.”

That term of affection would usually make you bark a laugh, but right now, it’s just blisteringly hot, him wringing the most filthy sodden noises from your body as he rocks in and out of your pussy. 

So you do. 

Scrunch your grip into the duvet beneath you and undulate on him, baring down as he surges inwards, moving like a wave together as he makes noises of encouragement, his lips warm on your cheek. His eyes don't leave your face except occasionally to glance down your writhing body, gaze lingering on your nipples pebbled against your vest. 

His feet entwine around your ankle, holding you down just a little bit, giving you just a little fight that you need, reading you like a book. With a nod and lopsided smirk, he silently bids you to keep going. And you do, getting overheated, chasing that high he is aiding and abetting.

“Don’t hold back,” he tutors silkily into your damp temple, intuiting that you are swallowing back some of the noises you want to make. 

So you follow his bidding. Stop modulating yourself, letting go, leaning into the simmering in your body, each perfect glide of his fingers spiralling you so high it's almost dizzying, your desire running down between your cheeks now. Something daring in you wants to be louder than Vanessa. To make the whole house jealous. Hell, for the entire world to know how good this feels.

He angles to catch your g-spot as well, and it hurtles you rapidly over into the blissful abyss; unable to stop yourself from spasming almost violently, screaming out, him fighting against your convulsions as you fracture apart and reassemble, breath stolen, blood pounding in your ears. You float both high above yourself and grounded in your body as that wondrous quake spreads to every corner of your being.

“That was bloody perfect,” he exhales, a thread of pride etched into his tone as you collapse down, heaving breaths as he withdraws from inside you.

“WE GOT THE FUCKING HINT EARLIER!!” 

Matt’s yell through the wall makes you both still, eyes going comically wide before you both start giggling. Benedict lands a kiss on the tip of your nose as he rolls on top of you, his rigid cock nestled against your inner thigh.

“Well, that just sounds like a challenge to me,” he quirks a seductive eyebrow. “Let’s give them something to really complain about…”

Then, without warning, his soaked fingers yank down the neckline of your vest, his warm lips suctioning onto your nipple, and you are calling out loudly once more. 

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt 1 : @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[secriden]

Not to be a Style apologist, but I feel like some viewers haven't quite picked up that Style's brand of wooing Fadel is quite literally intentionally designed (by both the writers and the character) to be as annoying and frustrating as possible.

Lets consider:

Style thinks his bff is in love for the first time in his life. He thinks Kant is genuinely down bad for Bison: let’s not forget his clear surprise when Kant agreed to give up the car. As far as Style is concerned, Kant is acting really out of character and it's because Kant desperately wants to be with Bison.

He also thinks the only thing standing in the way of True Love™ is Fadel, who according to Kant is being unreasonably difficult about Kant and Bison dating. He doesn't know that Kant has a secondary motivation, nor does he know about the mind games that Bison is playing with Kant. Worse, he has no frame of reference or context to make any of Fadel's animosity towards Kant reasonable.

Moreover, while I think we all agree that Style made a terrible first impression on Fadel, the same has to be said of Fadel towards Style. Like, yes, absolutely Style was in the wrong, but Fadel came off as not only condescending and impatient, but unreasonable (and very weirdly cagey) when Style tried to immediately offer a resolution. Again, Style has no frame of reference for why Fadel would first demand that he take responsibility for his actions and then immediately after claim to have no time to entertain Style's attempt to take said responsibility.

Also, it doesn't help Style's wounded pride that Fadel keeps 'besting' him at every turn. So at this point I think a significant portion of that initial attraction (in ep 1) has shifted to annoyance when it comes to Fadel. By the time he gets his hands on Fadel's information, I think he's more than a little invested in some payback. While I think Style very much still wants to help Kant (and Bison) out, at least a part of him figures as long as he keeps Fadel busy, he kind of meets his goal. And if he gets to embarrass, frustrate and otherwise harass Fadel along the way, all the better!

You can see him start to have some fun with it. He ramps it up SO much in ep 2. He gets to lean into that wild, brash, playful personality because he doesn't really care if Fadel likes him. Style gets to be dialled up to extremes, and I love that for him because he's honestly kind of justified because he knows so fucking little about what's really going on. I think it's only fair if the other 3 are playing 4D chess while Style only has the Uno game rules in front of him, he gets to be the most Unhinged about it.

So, yeah, while I absolutely agree with all the posts out there that recognises just how reasonable and polite and tired Fadel is, I do think we need to give Style some credit here. He's absolutely SO extra, but he's also the one, arguably, that has been lied to the most and I feel that he deserves some slack for that.

I'm so glad he figures out some things in the next episode because my darling boy deserves to at least somewhat even the playing field.

[machveil]

I couldn’t be on a mission or training or even just generally living in the same space as any of these men because I would constantly have to fight the urge to smack them on the ass, and I know I would lose that fight

-🐸

HELP I was literally thinking about this lmfao

CoD Headcanon: Cop a Feel

these men have asses meant for grabbin’, is a handful too much to ask for? featuring: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König

CW: groping, generally getting handsy, suggestive, Johnny being a dog is it’s own warning

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

god forbid you smack, grab, or fondle his ass on base or on a deployment. Ghost does not have the patience for that, you’re playing a risky game with him right now and Ghost never loses

it doesn’t matter if you’re friends or dating or something in between, if you land on a hit on him you’re getting put in your place. especially if you do it in front of other soldiers, in front of his team. as soon as he can, he’ll be dragging you off somewhere secluded - you think you’re funny? or are you just that desperate for attention?

Simon, off duty, at home or in public, is a little more open to the attention. he himself isn’t opposed to slipping his hand into your back pocket - an innocent act of affection until he squeezes. he’s fair, if he gets to do that then you can feel him up a little too

he’d prefer it to be at home, but if you cop a feel while walking down the street, or in line at the check-out, he won’t say anything. at home though? he’s flesh and blood, can you blame the man when he scoops you up in his arms, hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he nips and kisses your neck? “You started it, lovie.”, is all you’ll hear before he’s marching to the nearest surface

John “Soap” MacTavish:

are you dating? are you just friends? it doesn’t matter, before you can even think about getting handsy Soap is already sneaking up on you. full gear or dressed in civvies, his hands are finding their way to your ass first. it’s fun for him— don’t look down, keep your eyes on his

Soap has self control, not a lot, but he does. he’ll try his hardest to keep his hands to himself. but, if he feels you grab a handful and squeeze? he’s grinning while you laugh, already pawing at your hips and kneading the fat of your ass as payback

Johnny is an absolute dog at home, just a mutt for your attention. he goes crazy for a hand on his bicep, eyes half lidded when you place a hand on his knee - grabbing his ass? he’s practically drooling when you smack it, groaning when you squeeze. you’ll be nice to him and let him feel you up too, right?

it’s only fair, bonnie! he’ll be gentle, just let him love on you— no! don’t walk away smiling, is that a fit of giggles he hears? “Naw, get over here! Dinnea think you’re getting out of this!”, he’ll chase after you, all toothy smiles and booming laughter

König:

do not embarrass him, Maus. he’s a well respected, feared Colonel, he has a dangerous reputation. a behemoth of a man that can snap someone in half with pure, brutish strength alon— “Ach—! Du kleiner Schlingel!”, he’ll get red in the (thankfully hidden) face, his neck to his ears burning as he gasps. on duty! on duty, in front of his men! how dare you

he can take a joke, physical and verbal, but don’t expect him to walk it off - König lives for messing with people, a little mischief never hurt anyone. so, go ahead, grope him on base if you want to! just don’t whine when he spanks you later in passing, heavy handed and laughing as you yelp

when König comes back home? oh, please touch him! he’s starving for affection, even if it comes in the form of you kneading his ass especially then. is he tall, and strong, and overall intimidating? yes, yes he is. is he a wet sock of a man that’s desperate for you? oh, of course

he’ll purposefully turn his back to you when you’re in the kitchen, acting surprised when you wind up for KO. he’ll knead the fat of your thighs, grope your hips, kiss your neck, anything if you promise to keep touching him. he’ll be embarrassed in public if you rest your hand on his ass while walking, a hushed little whine when you squeeze, but it’s exactly what he wants

[icepip]

teasing suguru while you're having dinner with some friends, slipping off your shoe to drag your socked foot slowly up his leg. a bit of payback for all the times his hand happened to fall between your legs in similar situations. it's only fair that you wind him up just the same.

you take your time, starting slow as to not raise any alarm with him, playfully knocking your foot against his or his ankle. when his eyes turn toward you, a quirk of his eyebrow, you just continue with the conversations around you.

your foot inches higher and higher, toes brushing against his knee, and suguru is starting to react. his jaw is tense, the sharp angle practically begging you to press sloppy kisses along it — if you weren't surrounded in the restaurant, you might just give into that temptation. he's also speaking less, his responses short and to the point if they require words. suguru is getting flustered and you're enjoying it.

when you reach his thigh, his wrist wraps around your ankle. his gaze settles on you, then, eyes dark and challenging. there's a familiar spark of desire underneath it, though. instead of pushing you away, his grip on you tightens for a moment and he spreads his legs apart. it's a game and he's waiting for you to make your next move. a dare.

you decide to take the bait, knowing that once you're alone, suguru isn't going to let this go. but you can't lie, you look forward to it.

carefully, you press your other foot to his thigh, toes rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants, a devious smile playing on your lips.

suguru has you out of the door within the minute, offering some half-assed excuse as to your sudden departure.

[moonsaver]

hi hi double yandere anon again -- thought i'd put this in a separate ask :] this is only if you wanna write it, but normal sunday with a yandere reader is giving me some great thoughts. like, reader flipping the script on him, usually so composed and with everything in control, and sunday has to deal with being entirely at their mercy. idk having usual character dynamics reversed is always fun to me, so! again tysm and have a great day!! :}

Hello anon! Since both of these inbox messagws are from you, hope you dont mind that i coupled them lol. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Im glad to know you liked that piece!

Anyways, this is a very interesting dynamic in my opinion..

Sunday x yan!reader.....

Listen. You might actually be able to convince him to a degree. Lets be for real, this man is probably STARVED for some good loving. But like almost all hsr characters, he'd be unnerved by it at first. The most repulsive situation isn't the fact you're obsessed with him, but rather that he doesn't have control over this situation. You, somehow, do.

Sunday himself is a bit.. intense in my opinion. He's had his fair share of suitors, but most likely not many or any lovers at all. He's isolated to a degree, and doesn't feel like he's desperate for love.

But when yan!reader shows up, proclaims having oh so much love for sunday.. it turns the cogs in his head a bit.

Our dear yan actually has a good chance of winning Sunday over, depending on how you might present yourself inititally. It's like when you finally get a taste of something you didn't want, but realise you've needed almost your entire life.

He's reluctant, as.. minorly expected? But not for the reasons he should be. It's the control factor that's holding him back. His secondary concern is actually more logical – he doesn't know you. And it does unnerve him slightly when you give him the tip of the iceberg of how much you might know.

But, somehow, someway, if you manage to render Sunday unable to defend himself, or kidnap him, or strip him of his reliable abilities?

Boy he is freaking. Out.

He's speaking with a strained voice, his eyes almost blown wide open, his breathing is heavy, slow and shallow, as he desperately tries to stay calm, but every alarm in his head is about to burst from the signals at the loss of control. He's like a rabid dog that's shown a glass of water. Almost snarls at you. Hates hates hates this situation so much, and it's not too soon before he settles quietly with a glare, his mind working relentlessly to weave out of your trap.

But it's a strange pull. He protests and threatens you when you even try doing something – even if its harmless and he would allow you to outside of this situation. But then you wear him down, and you're so gentle with him. You kiss his face and hold him so close and warmly, you listen and even understand his ideals when he talks about them to gauge your personality. This feels as though it's the first time someone truly sees him – scary as it might be, to lay bare all your self, but the very fact you can love him so well makes him.. delirious.

Oh, but he still despises you (for the lack of a stronger word) because of the control aspect. However, instead of planning a heavy punishment for your crime of kidnapping him after he finds a way out.. he may form other methods of payback.

[zepskies]

SOLDIER BOY MASTERLIST

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut) Stories are Soldier Boy x Reader unless otherwise noted.

Lost in Translation** - Soldier Boy x POC!Reader Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Wanderlust** Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Sleigh Ride Yet again, you convince Ben to indulge you in a new Christmas tradition.

Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

This One's For You Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

Lesson Learned** There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you. (Sequel to This One's For You)

Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

Calculated Risks You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

Break Me Down** You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them.

Series Complete

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

Series Complete

Wake Me Up** A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, he is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

Series Complete

Lost on You** 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who's the predator, and who is prey.

Series Complete

Soldier Boy & Halloween 🎃😈 What would Soldier Boy be like on Halloween with his girlfriend?

Repaying Soldier Boy for a job well done. 😏 How he would react to his girlfriend randomly slapping his ass.

Ben gets a little payback. 😌 How you react to your boyfriend randomly slapping you on the ass.

Taking Ben to a 90's themed club.** 🕺🏻 He doesn't want to go, but you encourage him to "loosen up."

Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game. (BMD-verse)

Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you. (BMD-verse)

Playing with Soldier Boy's hair. 🧔🏻 This "head"-canon includes soft!Ben.

Soldier Boy dating a supe with siren abilities. 🧜‍♀️ He underestimates you. You give him a reason to think twice.

The way you love Ben's hands.** 👌🏼 Headcanon includes comparing hand sizes, Tarzan & Jane-style.

Headcanon:** How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to seeing your breast reduction scars. ❤️‍🩹

Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a "twist" ending... (BMD-verse)

Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to "Ben loses you."] (BMD-verse)

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would make up for pissing you off. 😤

Sample the Menu 🤤 What happens when you interrupt Ben while he's cooking?

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you teasing him under the table. 😉

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you getting "morning" sickness during pregnancy. 🤢

Soldier Boy getting jealous... 💚🇫🇷 Of your past relationship with Frenchie.

Headcanon:** How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes. 👕

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor with his child. 🍼

Headcanon: Soldier Boy (Ben) romancing a woman of color. 💁🏽‍♀️

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason Teague would react to you sleepwalking. 😴

Soldier Boy (Ben) Using Your Hairdryer Coiffed to perfection?

What (BMD) Soldier Boy (Ben) Would Say to His Younger Self Ben has the opportunity to meet his counterpart from the 1980s. What advice would he offer?

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) "Sliding Up" to You in the Club Despite what you might think, he's got moves...

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The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

📖 Soldier Boy Fic Recs

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[midnightdevotion]

Hang in There

Request: Hi I saw you opened and requests and I can’t stop thinking about Rooster finding fem reader passed out somewhere after training because she’s pregnant with Hangman’s baby 👀 Maybe she’s been off a while and hangman is still ✈️

a/n: hi guys! it's been forever since i posted something- i will update all my fics soon just needed some inspo from requests to get my mojo back. Thanks for understanding loves.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female reader(Callsign Daisy)

Life has a way of kicking your ass in unexpected ways. After waking up sick for two weeks in a row you went to the doctors, only to find out you were pregnant. 8 weeks pregnant no less.

Now your approaching 10 weeks and you still don't know how to process that your pregnant, let alone tell your boyfriend. You know you want kids, but this is definitely not how you envisioned it happening.

The fear of telling Jake and losing him for this is something that has you up all night, every night. You can't help but thank you're lucky stars he's been on a mission for the last month because after waking up sick every day and hardly sleeping from the stress of it all, he would've figured you out. He should be getting home later today and you don't know what to do.

Logically, you know that while he plays the part of jackass cocky pilot, he worships you, and he would never be so low to leave you and your baby. His Texas roots would never let him. However, you're pregnant so your hormones don't let you settle the anxiety with logic.

Flinching as a door slams it knocks you out of the anxious spiral that has been your mind for the last few weeks.

"hey daisy you ready to kick some ass today?"

"when am I not" you send what you hope is a convincing smile towards rooster. You move around him grimacing as you walk into the sweltering southern California heat.

___

If there's one thing you can count on, flying is the one thing that gets you out of your head. It takes away all your fear and keeps you exactly in this moment. Nothing outside of being in the pilot seat matters. Not being pregnant, not every stress that comes with it being unplanned, and certainly no anxieties about what comes next.

There's no space for any of that. The second you climb that ladder, your life and everything about it falls away.

Today you are just running team trainings, and they are always your favorite. You have no upcoming mission scheduled so it's just to keep your skills refined and ready for when there is a mission.

"hey daisy, you know it's not fair when they team you up with Rooster, you should just let us win" coyote's voice crackles over the comms.

"Coyote how will you ever get better if I don't humble your ass every time i can?" your sarcastic reply echos back.

"C'mon just once! I've got a date tonight and I want to brag about being the winner"

"Tsk tsk you should know women don't want to hear you brag on the first date coyote. Maybe this is why you never get a second date."

"You can't seriously tell me the girl dating hangman told me not to brag right now."

Laughter crackles through from everyone, and you shake your head. Rooster gives you a signal and you move to his left ready to attack.

If there's one thing the dagger squad knows it's that when you and rooster fly together there is ultimately little to no chance for survival. Nobody expected the duo with callsigns rooster, and daisy to be such a lethal pair but you guys can read each others minds.

This is true on the ground too, which is why you've been avoiding rooster for two weeks. You know he can tell something is up, but if you avoid him, he can't figure out what.

"how quick do you think we can get them out today?" Roosters voice rasps.

"I reckon we will have them grounded in t-5 minutes"

"god not you too with the Texas talk" he groans.

"What you don't think it's charming?" he flips you off and you laugh.

Before you can respond you see coyote and payback flying. Dropping back to cover rooster you grin under the face mask. This is your favorite part of everyday.

Being up in the air with your best friends you feel invincible. Which is ironic considering this is actually a dangerous job.

"rooster, plan c"

"roger that" He goes shooting forward and you fall back. You laugh as you watch them chase rooster, it's symbolic in a way kids chase chickens and then get pecked.

You stay behind them until you move to get a shot. The sweet sound of missile lock rings out and payback drops off. Now that Coyote is onto you, the plan changes, and you become the bait.

You and Rooster know that he wants to air 'kill' you the most, which is why this plan will work. The temptation of you being right there will be too much for him to think about where rooster disappeared too.

So when rooster swoops in and gets the missile lock on coyote, you can't help but laugh. You and rooster devised this plan specifically for Coyote because he always complains when you two are teamed up together. So seeing it come to fruition and even better hearing Coyotes swearing, is the highlight of your day.

Grinning as you climb down from your jet, you search out rooster. You see him hopping onto the tarmac and walking over your way.

"roos we killed that!" you shout out at him. When you feet hit the tarmac, a rush swoops over you. Shaking it off you go to take a step and suddenly the world spins incredibly fast. Yet it feels like everything is going in slow motion, your vision goes spotty and you hear Rooster shout after you. The last thing you register before the world goes black is the sound of boots hitting the ground.

--

Rooster has never felt more scared to make a phone call in his life. How does he call Hangman and tell him that his girlfriend passed out, and is in the hospital bay when he has no idea why.

It's been four hours already, you haven't woken up and they won't give him any answers. His hair is a mess from stressing about his best friend not being okay while simultaneously worrying about how to tell the guy he knows would move heaven and earth for you.

His leg is bouncing up and down as he stares at the number dialed on his phone screen.

The fact of the matter is Hangman is probably still flying and won't be able to be contacted for a few more hours. The mission was a success, and then it was extended to have them run drills while at sea.

Bradley knows he has to make the call, but he's terrified that once he does it all feels more real. He's terrified to lose his best friend, He's lost enough already.

Sighing he rubs his hands down his face, picks back up his phone and hits the green call button. The ringing feels like the worst anticipation of his life. When it goes to voicemail his hands are shaking, and he doesn't know what to say so he just hangs up.

Next resort is to call the ship. A commander on board will contact hangman and deliver the bad news, and oh how he wanted to avoid it coming from anyone but him.

He feels a hand land on his shoulder, looking up and glancing at Mav he sighs.

"It's going to be okay Bradley"

"How could you possibly know that" Maverick sighs, and sits next to him.

"let me make the call." maverick opens his hand for him to hand him the phone.

"no- no I need to be the one.. just what do I say mav"

"you tell him the truth, you don't know yet what happened, she's stable but the doctors are finding out what happened and he needs to get back as soon as he can"

He swallows and it feels like steal is coating his throat. Nodding as he stands up he paces in front of mav.

"she's gonna be okay, she has to be okay. We take risks every day all day up in those jets, this can't be how she goes mav. She has to be okay."

"and she will be, but take a deep breathe and find yourself because when you get ahold of Seresin he needs you to be his rock, he doesn't need to hear you panic" Rooster sighs because Maverick is right. He grabs his phone and dials the ships emergency contact number.

It takes a few minutes, jumping through hoops, getting in contact with one person to be transferred to another. Rooster curses Jake for being so hard to get ahold of.

"This is warlock"

"Admiral, sir, this is Lieutenant Bradshaw. There's been an accident with Lieutenant y/l/n today and we need to get contact with Lieutenant Seresin."

"Jesus- is everything okay?"

"We're not really sure yet sir but Jake- he needs to know."

"He's in the air at the moment let me see if i can get him back on ship."

"thank you sir"

The minutes feel like hours as rooster is waiting. He hears chatter from his phone and he knows they are trying to get hangman back on the ship and available for the phone call but roosters not sure if he isn't ready to deliver the news or ready to get it over with.

What feels like an eternity later but is actually only twenty minutes he finally hears hangman in the background. He swallows hard.

"Rooster whats going on?" if there's one thing pilots know, they are never called down unless something bad happened.

"Jake. Something happened with daisy... she... she just passed out.."

"in the Air?!! Rooster tell me shes okay!"

"No no! not in the air.. we had just landed and i was walking over to her and she passed out. She's in the med bay now but we haven't heard anything about her condition yet."

"Fuck!..... Fuck!" in the background he hears jake asking how far from land they are. Ultimately needed to be there for you, needing to see you for himself. Bradley hears jake curse when the answer is still 3 hours out.

He hears a slam and then yelling before the line clicks dead. Rooster looks at maverick worried.

"what do you think he's gonna do"

"one way or another? getting a jet and flying here faster." is mavericks reply. Rooster can't help but agree, if he was 150 miles away from land on a boat that moves about 50 mph holding jets that move at 1,000 mph then he knows what option he would choose too.

----

It takes about 30 minutes for hangman to come rushing into the hospital bay.

"How is she, have we heard anything, what happened" He rapid fires off questions.

"the doctor came out and told us she passed out because she's sleep deprived and is showing signs of dehydration and that she hasn't eaten anything today."

"why- why hasn't, she knows she needs to eat- she's so good with drinking water... I don't understand." confusion crosses his fingers because none of that sounds like his girlfriend.

"when can i see her?"

"the doctor is going to come out soon and let us know what room she is in, they had to finish the tests to see if everything is okay."

Hangman nods and paces the floor where rooster paced about calling him. It only takes a couple minutes for a doctor to come out and call your name and everyone shoots up.

"Okay, well, I'm glad she has a support system but only one visitor at a time please, she does still need to rest and recover. She is in room 302"

Hangman takes off in a dead sprint towards the room.

---

Beeping is the next thing your mind registers, and it takes you a minute to open your eyes. Yawning you try to bring your hands up to rub your face but one is being held by something.

Looking over you see Jake studying your left hand.

"you know you scared the shit out of me today"

"Jake I-"

"why weren't you taking care of yourself?" this has you confused and furrowing your brows.

"I have been-"

"You were dehydrated, hadn't eaten and sleep deprived. It's why you passed out!"

"jake you've been gone! You don't know what I've been doing! I did eat breakfast and drink water this morning but I threw it up!"

"god darling daisy if your sick don't come to work!"

"I'm not sick!"

"some would say puking means your sick!"

"not when your pregnant!"

"you- you're pregnant?"

"Yes Jake! I've been throwing up for weeks because of stupid morning sickness and I haven't been sleeping well because oh my god I'm pregnant and that is the scariest thing, and I was worried to talk to you about it but I guess that's out now isn't it." Theres a silence that lingers on after your words, and it feels like ice pumping into your heart the longer it stretches on.

"oh- oh my god" your throat feels thick at his words, he's looking down at your still clasped hands and you watch him to gauge his reaction.

"we're having a baby?" he finally looks up at you and his eyes are welling with tears.

"yes- we're having a-" and your cut off by his lips crashing against yours. His laughter peels out of him as he pulls away.

"were having a baby!"

"wait... you're happy about it?"

"Of course I'm happy about it! You're the love of my life! I want everything with you. The house, the kids the marriage, the dogs the fights, and the stress"

His words make your eyes tear up.

"honey I hate that you were so stressed about telling me you weren't sleeping. I was sitting here, looking at your left hand thinking about how wrong it is that something happened and the doctors didn't immediately call me, that if something were to happen to one of us I never got the chance to put my ring on your finger." His words left you speechless.

"jake... what are you saying"

"I'm saying marry me."

"isn't that supposed to be a question?"

"No. Its a demand, marry me, make me the happiest man, have my babies and marry me and call me out on my shit and shoot me down in the sky I want it all. I know this is so not how i planned to ask you, but please, marry me." You laugh a wet laugh, because this makes sense, you two would get engaged in the weirdest way, and do it all out of order, but you love this man with your whole heart so you embrace the chaos.

"Of course I will marry you" and he kisses you with every emotion he's felt in the last few hours, but you both wouldn't change it. Even if he already has the ring at home in his sock drawer waiting for the perfect moment.

Tag list:

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[scoobydoodean]

Curious if you have anything for "Dean doesn't care about demonic vessels" / Dean calls Sam a monster whenever he makes a concerted efforts to exorcise care about the humans in the vessels. If not, is it something you'd consider tracking or expanding upon?

The first time the death of a vessel comes into question is in 1.22, when Sam, Dean, and Bobby capture "Meg", and the real Meg (Meg Masters) is still alive and possessed by her. Dean is the first person to say they need to exorcise "Meg" immediately to save Meg Masters from possession, while Sam wants to leave Masters possessed so they can potentially get more information out of "Meg" (this is all after "Meg" revealed John's location, so Dean already got what he wanted—Sam wants Azazel's location). Bobby then interjects, saying that exorcising "Meg" will kill Masters.

Sam (quietly to Dean): Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is. Dean: She doesn’t know. Sam: She lied. Dean: Sam, there’s an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We’ve go to help her. Bobby (comes up to them): You’re gonna kill her. Dean: What? Bobby: You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die. Dean: Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that. Bobby: She is a human being. Dean: And we’re gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it.

This is an interesting discussion, but one where Sam is the absolute least concerned about Meg Masters. Overtaken by the desire for vengeance at this point, Sam just cares about potentially getting information from "Meg" that will lead him to the demon. It's Bobby and Dean who care about Masters, but push for different solutions. Dean believes Masters is suffering and cannot be saved, and is concerned with immediately ending her suffering and violation. More darkly, he may also want a little payback against "Meg" the demon. Bobby, from his own POV as a husband who lost his wife to possession, immediately jumps to wanting to wait and see if they can save Masters somehow, but this is... also likely a pipe dream. "Meg" is... to put it quite bluntly, a creepy, murdering, rapey demon. She is happy to kill humans at her leisure at this point in the series. She has zero incentive to preserve Master's life and they were never going to be able to save her. Meg Masters immediately thanks them for exorcising Meg when she retakes control of her body, even knowing she is going to die. There's really no good solutions in the situation, but Dean is still the one to reflect after on Meg and another of Azazel's children who he kills to save Sam, considering the gravity of the vessels lives.

Dean: Hey, Sam? Sam: Yeah? Dean: You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there. Sam: You didn’t have a choice, Dean. Dean: Yeah, I know, that’s not what bothers me. Sam: Then what does? Dean: Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh .... it scares me sometimes.

I do think Dean is a little less fair with himself when it comes to Meg, given that at the point where they went through with the excorcism, they already had the information on John's location that Dean had wanted.

In 3.04, Sam calls Ruby a "cold bitch" after *she dismisses the weightiness of him killing two vessels. However, Sam kills a crossroad's demon and her vessel just because he's angry in the following episode. Sam's prioritization of vessels doesn't seem to materialize until 4.04. "Metamorphosis" (which I'm guessing is the basis for the claim you're asking me about):

SAM I'm sorry, Dean. I am. But try to see the other side here. DEAN The other side? SAM I'm pulling demons out of innocent people. DEAN Use the knife! SAM The knife kills the victim! What I do, most of them survive! Look, I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year.

First, this wasn't the motivation for honing Sam's powers when Sam originally agreed to start using them. His motive was revenge on Lilith. We also know he isn't being honest with Dean or himself here about the full scope of his motivations. As is slowly revealed to us over the course of season 4, Sam is attracted to the feeling of power that the demon blood gives him.

That aside, if you actually take this discussion in 4.04 in context, this is the first conversation where Dean knows Sam is working with Ruby and that Sam is honing powers he developed via her guidance. Dean's plea to use the knife comes right before Sam reveals that he is actually able to save some of the victims by using his powers. Dean doesn't claim the victims are unimportant after that—he pretty clearly suggests that saving the victims being a good thing is the start down the dark path paved with good intentions and that it won't end the way it's started.

DEAN That what Ruby want you to think? Huh? Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers? Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends.

He casts doubt on the idea that there aren't ulterior motives and dangerous downsides in play that Ruby isn't being honest about. These concerns materialize as reality by the end of the season. Ruby is using him in the exact manner Dean feared, and as Sam's powers grow, he needs more and more blood to not just grow stronger, but to maintain his powers. By 4.20, he cuts a demons throat and then stabs her, completely uncaring of the vessel, in his desperation to feed. In 4.21, Ruby notes that his appetite has grown, and in 4.22, Sam needs to drink a whole person and he begins to turns into a demon because of all the blood he has consumed.

This "conflict" about the knife killing vessels also isn't a repeated discussion between the brothers. It happens in 4.04 only as noted above. At the end of 4.04, Sam decides he is done with his powers after getting scared by what happened with Jack Montgomery. In 4.07, he decides to use his remaining powers against Samhain, and Dean asks him to use the knife instead. However, Samhain's vessel is 1) a villain 2) already dead. The next time Sam's powers come up is in 4.09 when Ruby urges Sam to use his powers to stop Alastair. After Ruby emphasizes their precarious position, Dean stifles his objections. No one is concerned about Alastair's vessel—they're concerned about not being killed. Dean (though he suspects) does not know about Sam using his powers again until the end of the season in 4.20 when Sam kills a vessel to drink their blood then flexes his powers on the demon possessing Amelia Novak. In other words, at no point after 4.09 does Dean even have an opportunity to object to Sam using his powers, and the vessel discussion is only relevant the first time they discuss Sam's powers, in 4.04. In 4.20, Sam shows he doesn't really care that much about vessels by feeding on and then killing a demon and vessel. So Sam's whole "save the vessel" angle also doesn't come up again after 4.04.

The point being... I think there are various points where Sam and Dean could both have showed more care toward vessels, but we can hardly say that SPN presents a consistent narrative where Sam cares about demonic vessels and Dean doesn't. I think framing the discussion in 4.04 in that way in the first place is fairly disingenuous, given Dean wasn't upset at Sam for wanting to save vessels. He was angry that Sam lied to him and broke a promise to uphold what Sam himself called Dean's dying wish (to please not hone demonic powers with Ruby because Dean believed it was the culmination of Azazel's plans for Sam and a continuation of their family's generational traumas). He's scared because he sees the path paved with good intentions down which Sam could tumble. He's scared because he only found out about all of this because Cas warned him the episode before (in 4.03) that if he didn't stop his brother from working with Ruby, the angels would.

You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will.

He's scared because he's spent the last 40 years being coerced and tortured by demons and was corrupted toward becoming one and doesn't want his brother to suffer that same horrific fate—simply by some other means. He's scared because Sam lied to him about all of this, which suggests that deep down, Sam knows there are parts of this that aren't good and he might be hiding more things from Dean or even himself (4.04).

[kuzann]

AU idea I stumbled across while writing up notes for chapter 11 like. What if AU where Vlad wrote Jack out of his life after getting out of the hospital and never looked back. He still has ghost powers and is still stupid rich but he's off just doing his own thing and hasn't thought much about Jack in years.

When the reunion rolls around Vlad invites the Fentons because they were part of the class for that year so it's just a matter of course. He treats them like any other guest and is kind of bewildered when Jack addresses him like they should be really close during the reunion party, and asks Jack to remind him of how he knew him back in college.

Jack is pretty hurt by the coldness and goes over the whole deal about them being best friends back in college and then sort of. Brushes over the fact that he caused the accident that sent Vlad to the hospital for years.

Vlad listens with polite interest and then when Jack gets to the accident he coldly tells Jack that he remembers now. Then he laughs, and asks what Jack expected by strolling up as if they were still friends. Jack injured Vlad and then never even apologized, never reached out, he's basically making Jack out to be the worst person in front of everyone at the reunion party. Everyone else present is a fair-weather friend for abandoning him cause his ailment made him "too ugly" to want to be seen with but at least they didn't pretend otherwise when they showed up for the reunion.

Jack is devastated by this and all the other Fentons are furious with Vlad for humiliating him in front of an audience. Danny decides to prank Vlad as payback after the party is over and ends up running into Plasmius that way. Vlad basically conjures a broom and swats Danny back out of his house because he has no time for some uppity ghost kid and he has other stuff to get on with. They don't figure out each other's secret identities until some time later.

Danny has a grudge against Vlad for humiliating his dad and takes any chance he can to try to play ghostly pranks on him. Never seems to work for some reason and that Plasmius ghost keeps showing up to stop him maybe they're friends and--WAIT.

It's a huge shock when Danny figures out that Vlad is also a human-ghost hybrid. Literally the only other person like him is a guy he hates for being mean to his dad. Vlad figured Danny out a while ago but didn't say anything cause he wanted to see how long it took Danny to realize it.

Danny wants Vlad to apologize for humiliating his dad and Vlad's just like, no Jack never apologized for landing me in the hospital for years and turning me into a mutant freak why should I apologize to him? You're lucky you escaped with only the mutant freak part, kid.

So potential for angst and for comedy. Could be fun!

[dozing-marshmallow]

Could I requests hcs or oneshot of Henry Hotline and a Mascot reader (if that's even allowed) who usually hides a lot ? Hope you're having a a lovely day! ❤️

(Happy birthday, btw!!)

Hello hello!! Of course you can, thank you sending this in!

If you guys need me to be more specific with my request info post, please don't hesitate to let me know! 💕 and thank you for the birthday wishes!! :)) I hope you enjoy and have a lovely day yourself!

HENRY HOTLINE X MASCOT! READER ONE SHOT

Henry was in one of the offices of the Parkour Palace when he heard a shuffle on the floor that most definitely did not come from his still feet. He looked under one of the tables and saw you staring right back at him, giggling.

“Peekaboo!” you chimed, crawling out and stretching your spring limbs,”Man, that contestant was gnarly, wasn’t he? Can’t believe he made it!”

“Sure was.” Henry groaned tediously,“He put up quite the fight in my part. If he hadn’t kicked me in the tunnel, I would’ve gotten him.”

“Henry!” you screeched, your playful mood displaced by envy,”You know how I feel when you speak about your section! You know it would have been waaaaay more enjoyable for the contestant and viewers if I was in charge! It’s not fair your one gets to be hiding! Why did I get the stinky swimming section? I’m the master hider!” the complaints flew out of your mouth,”I might have come from water, but that doesn’t mean I have to be around it all the time!”

“Take it up with Frankie, not me.” Henry scoffed, not caring.

“You think I haven’t? He just tells me that Hide n (Y/N) has an awful ring to it!” you whined, standing next to him, sour at the past conversations you’ve had with the rabbit.

“It does.”

You sneered, knowing Henry only made that agreement to madden you,“I thought you hated everything he stood for.”

“I do, but I’ll make an exception here.” there was a hint of enthusiasm in his raspy voice, only increasing your annoyance.

“You’re not nice at all.” 

“There’s an eye opener.”

You huffed, tightening your tie,“I guess I’ll just go back to hiding since that’s all I’m good for!”

“Yes, do!” he looked directly into your spores for eyes,“I like it when you’re quiet.”

“And I liked it when we were kid friendly.” you spat back, hands on hips.

He snarled,“Watch your tongue, brat.”

So you stuck it out in retaliation,“Now you know how it feels!”

He sighs,“I guess it can be slightly irritating.”

“Mhm and Frankie knows it too.” you shrugged.

“F-Frankie?” your telephone companion repeated, seeming rattled by that,“You mean you speak like this to him?”

“Duh!” you thought he knew. Weird.

He came over and grabbed onto your shoulders,"(Y/N)... You know what'll happen if you let your recklessness consume you, don't you?"

Yeah unlike Henry who held his hatred back when in the presence of Frankie, you spilled whatever came to mind to anyone,"I'll be eaten alive or something.” you carelessly answered. Both you and him had been in this cycle of rebirth, getting killed as punishment and coming back soon afterwards, though Henry’s faced it way more since it was rare for anyone to get your part. Frankie used to tease that apparently Henry had begged to swap the order of bosses around so that he would be before you, but look at him! There was no way that was true,“But I'll need to be found first!" you clapped your hands,“How about we play a game of hide and seek right now?”

“With your big head?” Henry chuckled, removing his hands off your shoulders.

Oh come on, that was unwarranted! As payback, you yanked the phone off his head and stomped on it, which was the human equivalence to hair pulling.

“Ow! Stop it!” he shoved you off and grumpily relocated the phone back,“That hurt! I already have to deal with these headaches from this awful ringing, I don’t need you adding onto it.”

“Play a game with me, Henry!” you commanded, clenching your fists in excitement.

He groaned, shaking his head,“Fine. You’re counting first.”

“Not a problem!” you happily accepted, running over to the corner of the office and placed your gloved hands over your face.

A nuisance. Henry stared at your back longer than he should’ve. Nothing more than a nuisance. That’s what the outside was. He always knew you could handle yourself, but after that revelation? He was going to have to monitor you extra closely.

For now, on with the dumb game.

[googleitlol]

After Wukong rejoins the group, things between him and Dove get a lot better. Sure, it's more awkward at first, but a whole less violent. They can actually be… friendly with each other? Even though the others get used to it, the change in dynamic is almost unnerving at first. I like to imagine whenever two of them, maybe Pigsy and Sandy have a moment to talk on their own, they make sure what they're seeing isn't some hallucination. Kind of a, 'You see this too, right?' moment.

Anyway, Wukong is having a blast now. Not only is he back, but he also lets himself indulge in teasing/getting payback on Pigsy for the Bone Demon incident. One great example is when he goads Pigsy into patrolling a potentially dangerous mountain. When the pig demon goes to take a nap instead, Wukong makes sure Tripitaka knows just how much effort he put into slacking off before he returns.

And then… well, that's where the trouble begins.

Dove Masterlist:

Landscaping

“Wukong really is in a meddling mood today.” Wujing remarks from where he sits next to you, the two of you basking in the midday sun with Tripitaka and Ao Lie. Your group is stationed by a large tree at the base of a wide mountain, waiting the return of two of the monk’s older disciples. After being warned of the danger posed by the area you all were meant to trek through next, Zhu Bajie was sent to go and patrol the area.

Unfortunately for the pig, Sun Wukong decided to tag along. “It has been some time that we’ve been travelling since our last encounter with a demon. I think the lack of serious threat has left him bored.” You shrug in response to the river demon’s observations. “If anything that old woodcutter told us was true, his boredom may be coming to an end.” He hums, looking out towards where his brothers took off.

“I hope for the sake of my heart, it doesn’t.” Tripitaka shudders, his tired gaze turned skywards. “I have had my fair share of demons trying to eat me, this never happened back home. I just want to get past one mountain without being caught by any monsters or upsetting anyone we shouldn’t.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for the monk. In the time you’ve been in travel with him, the sheer amount of demons that have looked to make him their meal has been problematic. With how much farther you have to go, you feel like saying it won’t happen anymore would be a lie. “If you want, Tripitaka, I can use my gift for a bit while we wait for Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie to return.” You offer, getting up to offer him a hand.

The monk shakes his head, swatting at a fly too close to his face. “Thank you, I think I should be able to manage for now.”

You offer a polite smile, mimicking his actions when you hear buzzing by your ear. “Alright, just let me know if–” The insect grows bolder, fluttering about your face. “Ugh! This annoying little…”

You notice the tiny monkey’s tail before the fly lands on your nose.

Sandy’s head tilts to the side when you go silent. “What is it?”

“…Sun Wukong?” You blink, and in an instant, the monkey returns to his form with a jump into the air. The shock of the action is enough for you to shout, falling back as the demon lands.

The Monkey King cackles, crouching down when you sit up. “You caught on faster than Pigsy!” He smiles, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Maybe Sandy was wrong in calling him meddling. At the moment, ‘rowdy’ fit him better.

“Where is he?” You use your finger to push him out of your face by his forehead, the King cooperating and stepping back to let you up.

“Still rehearsing what to say.” He answers while you dust yourself off. “He decided to take a quick nap instead of scouting, like I knew he would. I left him once he finished practising what to say in case any of us ask what he found.”

The monkey shifts into his younger brother, muckrake and all. “‘There was a rocky cave, with three sections!” He imitates, albeit dramatically. “There are wretched monsters and wild animals at every turn! We better turn back and return home, I’m sure my wife and father-in-law have been missing me.’” Sandy chuckles a little under his breath while you cross your arms. “That’s a bit dramatic of him, don’t you think?” Monkey King shifts back, seemingly still struggling to regain his composure.

It’s only made worse when Pigsy returns, spouting about the very same words Sun Wukong had already shared. He seems quite confident in himself as he prattles on. “There are wretched monsters and wild animals at every turn! We better turn back and–”

“–return home, I’m sure my wife and father-in-law have been missing me.” Wukong finishes in unison with his brother, the pig frowning when he does. The Monkey King scoffs. “Practise really did make those lines perfect, didn’t they?”

“Wha–?! But how did you…”

“Lying about going on patrol?” Wukong crosses his arms, giving Pigsy a pointed look. “I’d say that’s worth three strokes of my trusted staff. What do you say, Pigsy?” The pig demon looks at him wide wide eyes, almost shaking when he mentions his staff.

Luckily enough for him, Tripitaka intervenes. “There will be no beating anyone today.” He looks between his disciples, Wukong looking a bit disappointed while Pigsy sighs in relief. “Bajie, please go out and scout properly this time?”

“Ugh, fine.” The pig snorts, grumbling before he turns to leave back towards the mountain. The disappointment on the Monkey King’s face melts into a smug grin as he watches his brother march back to do his job properly this time.

While he scouts, the rest of you find yourselves waiting by the base of the mountain. You admit, being able to sit for a while instead of marching through trails of wilderness for hours is a nice change of pace. However, it quickly becomes old the longer you have to wait. Sitting with the horse, then leaning against the tree for shade, to the idle conversations that would occur between you and the others, you were getting bored.

An hour drags by, and then another. One can only admire the clouds in the sky for so long before becoming restless. Taking the horse to graze helps alleviate the itch to keep going somewhat, but it doesn’t help for long. You half-wonder if Bajie decided to take another nap somewhere else, but would he really risk getting caught like that a second time? Maybe something worse might have happened?

After a third hour passes, Tripitaka begins to voice your concerns. “Bajie has been gone for a while now. You don’t think something could have happened to him, do you?”

Sun Wukong gives out a hearty laugh from his spot in the tree you sit by with Sandy, resting on a low-hanging branch. “That pig is such a coward, he’d run at the first sign of danger.” He falls back, his tail hooking around the branch to face his master. “If he’s been gone for this long, he must be taking his time patrolling the mountain.”

“Still… something doesn’t feel right.” The monk frowns, his eyes fixed on the mountain. You frown, understanding the uneasiness in your friend. If Pigsy really was fine, would he be taking all this extra time to comb through the path? You half-expected him to return with some haste after being exposed by Wukong, to make up for slacking off.

You look over to Wukong, the monkey quickly catching your eye as you nod towards Tripitaka. “What?”

“Maybe one of us could check on Bajie?” Your brows raise a bit as your suggestion is made.

The Monkey King rolls his eyes, looking back at the worried expression from Tripitaka and quickly letting out a sigh. “How about this? Pigsy likes to move at a snail’s pace on his own anyway, why don’t we all just go and catch up with him?” He suggests, though the annoyance in his voice is far from well-hidden.

Tripitaka hums, glancing at you. “With Wukong’s logic, whatever Pigsy has covered so far should be safe.” You shrug. Even if the path isn’t safe, if something happened to Bajie, Tripitaka still has Wujing and Wukong to protect him. Between the lot of you, whatever potential trouble the pig demon might find himself in can be dealt with swiftly.

The monk frowns, deep in thought, likely thinking over the situation just as you were doing. After a few moments, he relents. “We might as well, it will be better than sitting around doing nothing.” With his word, your group gets to their feet. With the monk mounting the horse and Sandy taking the lead, you set off to begin hiking up the mountain.

A tense silence fills the space between the group as you journey up the mountain. Everyone is on alert, watching for any movements in the shadows of shrubs, listening for footsteps. Each of you prepare yourselves for some sign of your friend, some sign you aren’t alone.

A shudder from Tripitaka makes you glance back at the monk. His eyes look from one side to the next, shuddering again with a worried frown. Sometimes you forget how on edge he can get, especially when told of nearby danger.

You make eye contact with Sun Wukong, nodding over to the monk. He looks back at his master while you shift into your dove form to rest on the man’s shoulder. You do your work, using your gift to put his mind more at ease.

He notices rather quickly, cracking a small smile before Wukong clears his throat. “Master, you needn’t be so worried. You know I will not let anything happen to you while I am here.” He jumps in front of the horse while he speaks, walking backwards so as to not stop the group.

“If any demons dare to show their wretched faces, it will only take a swing of my staff to send them down to the ten kings!” He boasts, taking his staff from his ear and extending it to spin the weapon in his hands. Facing forward, he scoops up a few rocks to throw into the air and uses his staff to bat them all into a tree further ahead. When he runs out of ammo, he throws the staff itself, impaling the tree through completely.

The monk blinks a few times as his disciple retrieves his signature weapon. “I really am fortunate to have him as my disciple, and not an enemy.”

“Take it from someone who has fought him, you are lucky to have never felt the pain from that staff.” Sandy laughs, and you find yourself amused as Wukong returns, flipping through the air.

He shows off a bit more as you continue on the path, showing off kicks and punching the air. At one point, he shatters a boulder you pass by with only his head. Is it a little over the top? Absolutely, but it does wonders to lift Tripitaka’s spirits. 

By the time Wukong is finished with his demonstration, the air is considerably lighter. He takes his place beside Tripitaka and the horse, looking up at you with a smirk. You give a quiet coo in response, thankful for his help in reassuring the monk of their safety. You have to say, with the jabs between you two being less frequent and of a more playful nature, working with the Monkey King is becoming easier than you ever thought it would be. Dare you say, sometimes it was even fun.

It isn’t as though you were unaware of his cleverness before– his more impulsive actions sometimes made it difficult to remember– but you find it easy for the two of you to bounce off each other’s ideas. Sure, there are times where his plans baffle you, but you found that trusting his plots usually works out well. Whether it’s in battle or in the midst of a ruse, even with something as simple as how you worked to help Tripitaka, the two of you are surprisingly good at coordinating together.

For some time, the hike is uneventful. There is still no sign of Pigsy, but before you can worry yourself with his whereabouts, you hear a distant cry further ahead on the path. Cries for help.

“That sounds like a man…” Wujing frowns, your group quickening their pace to find the source of the voice.

Up ahead, you spot a bush, an elderly man just behind it. “Someone, please! Save me!” He shouts, groaning in pain as he keeps a tight grip around his leg. The closer Tripitaka rides, the more you can see of him. He’s on his side, his clothing scratched and torn. His grey– almost silver– hair is a bushy mess. His leg looks mangled, twisted in the wrong direction and dressed in blood. “Please, you must help me! I cannot move!”

Tripitaka wastes no time in dismounting, crouching down to the man while you return to your human form. Sun Wukong is quick to join his master’s side. “What happened to you?” The monk frowns, inspecting the elder for any other concealed injuries.

“I am a daoist from the temple just west of here. I was travelling with my disciple before he and I were attacked by a tiger.” He explains, his breathing heavy from the pain of his wounds and spent energy. “It killed him and dragged him away. It left me for dead, but I am afraid it may return. I beg of you, please help me return to my temple, and I will be in your debt!”

“Of course we will help you.” Tripitaka offers the elder a kind smile, turning to call one of his disciples. “Sha Wujing, bring my horse here for this man to ride. We can accompany him to his temple together.”

The man hisses through his teeth, clutching onto his injured leg. “I cannot ride.” He is able to shift over enough to show a gaping wound on his inner thigh, a deep cut that runs down his leg and already looks to be infected.

Looking closer, you take a step to the man. “Here, let me have a look at it.” You move past Tripitaka to crouch down, but a hand grabs you by the arm before you can.

You look back to find Sun Wukong, his glare making you freeze. However, his eyes focus not on you, but the elderly man. He pulls you closer, leaning over to whisper. “The last time you healed anything physical, you were unconscious for hours.”

“You mean when you were blind?” You match his volume, the reminder getting him to actually look you in the eyes for a moment, just to give you an annoyed look. “Why are we whispering?” His eyes narrow at the question, though he turns his attention back to the injured daoist before you can get an answer.

“Don’t waste your talents, Dove.” Is all you get before he crouches down in front of the old man himself. “If he is not fit to ride, let me carry him.”

A chill runs down your spine from his tone alone. His previously relaxed posture is now rigid, hostile. His smile to the man feels more like a threat than an invitation. You, Tripitaka, and Sandy look to each other from the sides of your eyes, even the horse looks concerned.

If the man notices the clear aggression in the offer, he does not show it.  “How kind of you, hairy-one.” Despite how uneasy you feel, you hold in a snort of laughter at the man’s words and Wukong’s look of offence.

“Hairy-one?” He frowns, the old man smiling.

“Yes, please. I would greatly appreciate it if you were to carry me.” He responds, and the monkey demon lets out a short huff.

He reaches down, getting the daoist up and onto his back while Tripitaka gives you a look. You quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll keep watch. If he’s acting like this, something must have tipped him off about this man.” You keep your voice low, the monk nodding in response.

“Thank you, I just didn’t want to leave him on the side of the road. Do you think he might be…” He trails off, looking back at the disciple and daoist.

“You just stay close to Sandy, I’ll call out if anything happens. If I do, ride off as fast as you can and hide.” You instruct, following his sight to the two before Tripitaka gets back onto the horse. You and Sandy were talking about how quiet these last few days have been, maybe some monster overheard you and decided to keep you on your toes.

It’s silent as you continue westward, unease wrapping around the group as you go. You make sure to glance over to the old man every now and then, keeping him and Wukong in your sights. Even when they begin to slow a bit to readjust every now and then, you stay by their side. Tripitaka and Wujing begin to get farther ahead, which is honestly a good thing if this man isn’t who he says he is.

You catch his eyes a few times, giving you a strange look. It gives you bumps along your arms, and you tell yourself not to reach for any of your weapons. He hasn’t done anything yet. You see him give the same look to Tripitaka, making you feel even better the further he and Sandy get from the stranger.

After some time, the monk and his disciple are so far off, they are no longer in your line of sight. Wukong pauses again to adjust his grip on the daoist before humming. “Dove, would it be alright if I bugged you for something?”

“What is it?” You frown, a little put off by his cautious words. It would be more normal if he just told you to do whatever it is he wants.

He matches your pace but keeps his distance. “Sandy is with Master, and they are already so far ahead of us… I don’t want to slow us down any further but I would really appreciate something to snack on right now.”

��Is this some ploy? A show for whoever this man is on his back? “Seriously? I am not your servant–”

“Please, Dove.” You look down as his tail wraps around your arm, looking back up to find a pleading look in his eye. “I think I saw some berries a little further back.” Alright, this is definitely an act. Some reason to be alone with the daoist, perhaps. Why else would he wait for Sandy and Tripitaka to be out of sight before asking? It’s clear that he knows more about the elder on his back than he’s letting on, but you trust that whatever Monkey knows, he can handle it.

“Alright, I will be back soon. Shout if you need me.” You nod, the monkey mirroring your action before you transform into a dove and begin your flight back. All you can do is hope the Great Sage knows what he’s doing.

Surprisingly enough, you do find the bush of berries Wukong mentioned. Maybe part of him really does want something to eat quickly. You start picking the berries, your thoughts drawing back to the strange daoist, the odd way in which he was looking at you and Tripitaka. Usually, it is your friend’s demon disciples that draw the eyes of strangers, not their human travel companions.

There has to be something wrong with that man. You’re embarrassed you didn’t catch it yourself, that it took Sun Wukong stepping in to tip you off. Part of you wonders how he can pick up on these things so quickly. He wasted no time in killing the bone demon when she was disguised. His ability to recognise danger on a whim is quite helpful, but you wish you knew how he did it.

You wonder how long you should take picking these berries, it’s obvious Wukongs wants time to deal with that daoist on his own. Just when you decide to head back, a thunderous boom sounds from the distance. The ground beneath your feet shakes and you stumble back, only just catching yourself. You barely have any time to regain your bearings as a second deafening crash echoes through the land, tremors shaking the earth beneath your feet even more violently than the first.

A tree crashes down to the ground, nearly crushing you in the process before you jump out of the way. What is going on?! What was that, two earthquakes under the span of a minute? Your head immediately swivels to the west, certain that whatever just happened is the result of a certain simian. That’s when you take a moment to blink, the sight before you confusing to look at. You see two mountains where the horizon used to be.

“What the…?” Did they just appear? How?! You could have sworn they weren’t there before, over where you left Wukong and the old man… There is no way this could mean anything good.

To add to your horror, a third mountain materialises before your very eyes, creating a third explosive boom. The ground shakes again, even more forcibly than before. It’s enough to knock you off your feet entirely. Once the earthquake stops, you’re able to sit up again. What the hell is happening back there?! Is Tripitaka okay? Is Sun Wukong fighting the old man now? Why are mountains appearing before your eyes?!

Your questions are put on hold when you hear his scream.

So loud, he’s yelling at the top of his lungs. Dropping whatever berries you had picked, you transform to fly back to where you left the Monkey King. He has to be in trouble, he would never shout like that if he wasn’t.

The closer you get to the spot where you left him, the closer you get to the mountains. The three are practically stacked onto one another in a cluster. They start to tremble, a flock of birds taking off from the trees on one of them when they do. Once the trembling stops, you hear his voice again, a furious howl coming from below.

Following his voice, you dive down. It takes a little while before you’re able to spot him, just his head. You land, rushing to his side before a gasp escapes your lips. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, or… what you can see of him. The Monkey King lays against the ground, his body pinned down by the newly-arrived mountains. Only his head and a forearm are visible. He’s bloodied and bruised, his head whipping around wildly and his breathing erratic.

He grunts, straining as the mountains once again shake. His hand digs into the ground for support, but his efforts are shown to be fruitless when the mountains remain, and he slumps back in exhaustion.

“Sun Wukong!” You call, rushing to his side and kneeling down. If he can hear your voice, he ignores it, his eyes darting frantically to and fro. They’re unfocused, panicked. His breaths are mercurial as he tries again to free himself, each attempt as successful as the last. He’s barely taking anything in. “Wukong– hey.”

You take hold of his swivelling head, working your gift into his mind. “Wukong… breathe.” It takes him time, each breath working to ground himself amidst his panic. He starts to slow, blinking a bit as he looks up at you. His head falls a bit, leaning into your hold as you continue using your gift. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

“Dove?” He frowns, coming back to his senses.

“Sun Wukong, what happened? Where is that old daoist?” You question, looking back behind you to make sure you are really alone, that this isn’t some trap.

Wukong growls at the mention of the man. “That was no daoist, it was a demon. I wanted to get him alone so I could deal with him myself when the coward summoned these cursed mountains!” His fist slams into the ground, the earth quivering beneath it.

You frown a bit, hoping he doesn’t cause the ground to open up under you from unbridled anger. “Why not say anything before?”

“And risk another incident like with the bone demon?” He brings up a fair point, grunting as he plants his palm into the ground and attempts to free himself once more. He grits his teeth, straining with his eyes trained to the ground as he puts his all into lifting the mountains.

You quickly turn his head to look at you again. “Stop, you’re hurt.”

“I have to get out!”

“And we will get you out, but it’s clear that these mountains aren’t moving. All you are doing is wasting your energy.” You point out the obvious, making him groan with frustration. You can’t say you blame him in the slightest. Wukong already spent five centuries under a mountain, you can’t even begin to imagine how much dread and trepidation saturate every bone in his body in this moment, having to relive it all again.

“That demon must have Master by now, and I am stuck under here!” He shouts, clenching his fist.

“Sandy is with him.” You remind the sage, standing up as you begin to rack your brain for your next steps. “I am sure he won’t let anything happen to him. Just breathe, we have to get you out of here first before we can help Tripitaka.”

You try to think of what to do, but what can you do? If the Monkey King is unable to move the mountains, what can your mortal strength do to help him? With Sandy occupied with Tripitaka and the demon on his way to steal the monk away– not to mention the fact that Pigsy is still nowhere to be found– you can’t count on them to assist. You might have to go out and find someone that could help. If this demon summoned these mountains, surely there is a way to send them away, right?

Looking back down at the monkey demon, you notice his breaths becoming irregular and crouch down to once again hold his head. “Monkey, hey. Look at me.” He does as you ask, unable to hide the anxiety in his eyes. You can’t remember a time you have ever seen him like this. You’ve seen him concerned, for Tripitaka, for you, but this is different. This is fear.

You remember a time you thought the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, held no fear in his heart. How wrong you were, then. In his state, how could you go find help and leave him here on his own? “I’m right here. We’re going to figure this out together, okay? I’m not leaving you here, not even for a moment.”

Your words seem to help, his eyes softening. He reaches up to your hand holding the side of his face, taking hold of it with a securing grip. For now, it seems the best you can do is comfort the monkey demon, despite your own worries starting to eat away at you. There is no way you can just leave him here with his anxieties to eat away at him, but how else are you meant to find a way to help him?

[necrokunn]

do you think qi would ever allow himself to be seen by the townsfolk or would he just remain as an urban legend forever? (even if he was with your farmer/oc) feel free to ignore but i like your au and i wonder what youd think :]

HIII! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE TO REWRITE THIS

Because my wifi was so bad it didn't post halfway, and it didn't get saved in the drafts. This is my 4th rewrite LOL. Anyway, this is going to be a little long!!

[QI RANT INCOMING] If you dont know of my previous post about my SDV headcanons, here they are!! Qi, of course- doesn't allow himself to be seen by the townsfolk, mind you because they're npcs. He doesn't want to give them existential dread (he doesn't want to risk glitching them out by giving them existential crisis and rewriting their code) and he just likes his mysterious thing going on!

But sometimes, Qi forgets that and impulsively pulls mischief around/at/with the farmer, thankfully- the farmer reminds him that hes supposed to be hidden (because in her pov, Qi has a big and mysterious reason behind as to why he doesnt want to be seen by the townsfolk, but its really because he doesnt wanna risk them glitching out and having to fix it)

I have a discontinued week old comic that I was saving for this answer- but I dont want you to wait too long and think I ignored it!!

The script for this was that Qi knew that Pierre steals the farmer's high quality crops and was going to jab him out of pettiness, but he forgot that Pierre's is an npc.

Farmer stops him, but before she could ask wtf was he doing, Pierre comes back with payment later, in the fair festival, the farmer finds out that Pierre used her crops to win the competition and Qi was like "I told you so" Qi and the farmer then plotted revenge in the middle of the night for payback PS: The only npcs aware of Qi's existence is Sandy and the wizard!! I have hcs for these two and their encounters with Qi, but thats another topic for another time! This answer is getting too long lol ALSOOOO!! Dont be afraid to ask anything related to Qi, my farmer, or the au in general! Im happy to answer them 💕💕💕💕💕

[rosenclaws]

omg I ABSOLUTELY LOVE your eddie fics/hcs!!! its so good and i love eddie so so much!!

i have to say this or else imma go crazy but imagine teasing eddie so so bad throughout the day but you get the chance to slip away all the time at work. and its driving him crazy that he does small mistakes while working

Teasing Eddie at work

Eddie is such a fucking tease himself that payback is only fair at this point and what better place to do it then at his work where he can't retaliate, at least not until you get home.

It starts in the morning before work. You wear clothes that are a bit more revealing, a little too tight for the office job but you know they drive him insane.

A hot and heavy make out session before work has him ready to go before the day can even begin. But you can't be late again so you have to leave while he's still very hard.

The whole day you were teasing him. Pulling him into private spaces to kiss him, grind on him a little just to be called somewhere else and leave him desperate and whiny.

It's starting to drive him crazy. Absolutely insane. He can't keep his eyes off of you and its starting to affect his work.

He can't pay attention in meetings when you're sitting across from him looking so hot and your lips are puffy from when he was biting and sucking on them.

Dirty thoughts flood his brain and he can't seem to get them to leave. So much so that he is constantly fucking up at work. Not listening to people, dropping things, just simple mistakes.

Every time he catches you smiling or laughing he narrows his eyes and gives you a warning look about what's to come once you get home.

When work is finally over and you get home he pulls you into the apartment as quick as he can. Kissing you, touching you anywhere he can.

He's pissed and he's going to make it your problem now. You better buckle in for a long night because he's made it his mission to fuck you until you can't walk.

The next morning when you're walking with a slight limp he just smirks.

[pankowperfection]

Payback

Summary: You piss off JJ and he takes revenge

Warnings: dark!JJ, rough sex, bondage, dubcon, hair pulling, 18+

Kooks vs Pogues, a story as old as the island itself. Lucky for you, you've been blessed with the good life. Growing up on the right side of town, never knowing what it was like to not get exactly what you wanted. Nothing seemed out of your reach, except for him.

Every girl in the Outer Banks wanted JJ Maybank, yourself included. You spent many nights toying with yourself, imagining the sharp lines of his jaw buried between your thighs. You always attempted to flirt with him when you were at the Island Club, wearing the skimpiest outfits possible and savoring the way his eyes couldn't resist focusing on your curves.

He hated you, simply because you were a kook and the fact really pissed you off. No one told you no, and you were willing to do whatever it took to get his attention.

Friday night at the club was going as usual, you and your friends sharing countless drinks while you talked about everything under the sun. The more the alcohol buzzed in your system, the more the damp spot in your panties grew from watching the blonde boy.

Everything he did was effortlessly sexy. How could someone looks so hot carrying a tray of cocktails? Your gaze flicked to him whenever possible, trying to stay under the radar of your judgemental friends. They wouldn't understand your obsession with someone like JJ.

Finally, you decide to make a move. "Excuse me, I'd like to speak to your manager." You watched the blood drain from his face, adams apple bobbing in his throat as he schooled his expression before answering.

"Of course ma'am, let me go get him."

Your friends giggle, thinking you just want to cause him some trouble, unaware of your ulterior motives.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" The manager looks stressed, realizing exactly who you were and knowing the implications of upsetting your family.

"Well, you see, the service has been pretty poor. We have to keep requesting another round, rather than our drinks being refilled before our glasses are empty. And I really don't appreciate how Maybank here has been looking at me all night. I want him gone."

The manager sighs, turning to JJ who was standing just behind him watching the scene unfold. "I'm sorry JJ, but you need to go. Can't have you upsetting my customers."

Before he storms off he fixes you with a hard stare, almost a warning of what is to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you stumble into your posh apartment, you don't notice the dark presence in the room. You toe off your heels, leaving them by the door and making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water. As you reach for the light switch, a strong hand clamps down over your mouth. Before you get the chance to elbow your attacker, his arm wraps around your body, trapping you against him.

"Hi sweetheart. You really thought you could get away with that, didn't you?"

Your heart hammers hard in your chest, adrenaline mixing with arousal as electricity shoots through your system. The scent of salty air mixed with something that is uniquely him fills the air, your body responding to how he feels pressed so tightly against you.

"I think it's only fair that I get something in return. A little payback." He forces you to turn, slamming you down onto the cool stone of the island. He quickly ties your wrists together behind your back, thick rope making your skin burn as you attempt to free yourself.

"JJ stop." Your protest sounds weak even to you, battling with your mind about how much your body wanted this.

Suddenly his bandana is in your face, roughly pushed between your lips and tied behind your head. "Shhh. The only thing I want to hear out of you is moans and whimpers. Besides, you don't really want me to stop, do you?"

The rough pads of his fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, your clit pulsing as he gets closer to your core. Your back arches, trying to get his hand where you need him most. He chuckles darkly, pulling away at the last second and leaving you panting for more.

You tense at the sound of his zipper, unable to turn around and catch a glimpse of his cock. He gives you no warning at all before burying himself balls deep inside you in one thrust. You scream at the stretch, sound slightly muffled by his makeshift gag. He's bigger than anyone you've ever had, each twitch of his cock making your walls burn.

"God damn, so fucking tight," he grits out between his teeth. He winds one hand into your hair, pulling hard to make your back arch further while your scalp sears with pain. His thick cock surges impossibly deeper, forcing you up onto your toes as he nudges your cervix.

His free hand grips your bound wrists, withdrawing slowly before slamming back inside. You can't help the loud moan that escapes your lips, the way he feels filling you up driving you wild. He uses you for leverage, setting a brutal pace that makes you see stars.

"That's it cupcake. Not so bitchy when you're drunk on my cock are you?" He lets go of your hair and you collapse onto the marble, band tightening in your stomach as he uses your body for his pleasure.

Broken moans spill from your lips as you teeter on the edge of your high, needing more to get across that line. He stops abruptly, manhandling you onto your back with your legs dangling off the counter. "Wanna see your face when you cum for me, want you to watch my cock destroy you."

The moonlight filtering through the window highlights his sharp features, the sweat dripping from his brow making drool pool underneath your tongue. You wished you could taste him, craving the feeling of his cock on your tongue. He breaks you out of your trance as his hands rake up your thighs, nails biting into your skin and making you bite back a groan.

When he lines up his cock with your entrance, his thumb brushes over your clit. You attempt to plead with him for more, struggling to speak around your gag. This time he pushes in slowly, both of you entranced by how your bodies are joined together.

His thrusts are slow but extremely deep, throwing your legs over each of his shoulders so he can get a better angle. He reaches down and pulls down the bandana before crashing his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth before biting down hard on your bottom lip. You taste the metallic tang of blood before he pulls away with a grin, tinge of red glinting on his lips.

"J please. I need more."

"Whatever you say princess." He wraps his dominant hand around your throat, pressing just enough to make your pleasure double. The speed of his thrusts starts to pick up, his fingers expertly massaging your clit.

"Oh god, please don't stop." Your legs start to shake as your high approaches. JJ releases your throat at the last second, your cries filling the room as you gush over his cock. He fucks you through it, his pace faltering as you feel him pulse inside you before filling you with his cum.

When he withdraws you wince, slight red tint glistening on his cock from his roughness. He grabs a towel to wipe himself off, silently tucking himself away and straightening the rest of his clothes.

You watch as he heads for the door, panic slowly setting in at your vulnerable position. "Aren't you gonna untie me?"

"Nah - you can sort that out yourself. Next time you fuck with me, I'll make sure your punishment is worse. Oh, and you're mine now. Don't touch anyone else, I'll know."

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