#like sorry excuse me are you actually asking who mattered more to him between his own son and a random kid

[franeridan]

"why did dragon abandon luffy but brought sabo along" this probably works against dragon actually but the canon reason at this point is that he would have literally gone full kuma-with-bonney mode if anything had happened to luffy and the wg had used luffy against him while back when he randomly picked up sabo out of the sea he couldn't have cared less about sabo. hope this helps

[ssahotchnerr]

girl!dad aaron reading to his daughter over the phone while on a case! 🥹 just like that one episode of jj and henry 😭🥰

nightmares

i will sob. 🥺 i'm also setting this in ellie's bad dreams era :( cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, slight angst, fluff <3

"It looks like this is his comfort zone." Using a red marker, Spencer circled an area on the map. "If we pinpoint-"

As he was continuing his thought, Aaron's phone rang. He fully expected to see Penelope's name, anticipating her call as she was working her magic to narrow down a pool of potential unsubs. However, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he saw it was from you instead.

"Excuse me." He spoke lowly yet urgently, keeping his eyes on his screen and hurrying away with no hesitation, missing the team's concerned glances.

"Hey," he answered, closing the door to the empty conference room behind him. There was knowing feeling deep in his chest - and a grim one at that. "Everything alright?"

"Kinda... no." You switched up quickly with a sigh, slight distress in your voice. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy. But can you spare a minute or two?"

"Another nightmare?" Aaron's eyes shot to the clock perched on the wall. While it was somewhat early for him, it was getting late back home, timezones to thank. And doing the math quickly, bedtime for the kids had been about two hours ago. So sadly this - right on schedule.

You hummed in confirmation, beginning with the positive first. "She fell asleep in her bed tonight, actually. Went down easy, not much protest. But then woke up crying, and was nearly inconsolable for a while. She's with me now." Your eyes shifted down to your frightened daughter besides you, who was inching closer and closer to seemingly making herself smaller. "And keeps asking for you."

Aaron glanced out; the team was still preoccupied, discussing the geographical profile amongst themselves, and could definitely manage without him for a while longer. "Yeah, I have some time."

There was a quick rustle as you set your phone down, placing it on speaker. Your voice was farther now, not by much, but it felt treacherously distant, as if more miles had been added. "It's Daddy, honey."

"Hey Ellie Bellie." Aaron's tone quieted, his face softening as he spoke. "What's the matter?"

A light sniffle came from the other end. "I had a scary dream."

"A scary dream, huh?" He repeated, an achy pang producing in his chest. Ellie's nightmares have been occurring for a while now, and indubitably becoming a problem. You both expected the dreams to run their course, eventually pass, and things would return to normal. But as time moved forward, it was becoming clear it was well beyond that as they worsened. "It's okay, you're safe with Mom now, right?"

Ellie nodded, unknowingly to him. Her small voice cracked, laced with tears. "I want you."

"I know, and I'll be home when work lets me, I promise. You can even use my pillow tonight too, if you want." He bit down onto his lip as Ellie mumbled a small 'okay' in response. Hard. "Or how about a story? Would that help you feel better?"

Her head rose up and down again, prompting you to speak up as Aaron was met with only her silence.

"We have a few right here." You reached across her, grabbing the few storybooks that frequented Aaron's nightstand and settling back against your own pillow.

"Your pick sweetheart." Aaron pulled a chair from the table, sitting down and making himself comfortable momentarily.

"Goodnight Moon?"

Goodnight Moon, also one of Jack's favorites when he was younger. Between him and Ellie, Aaron's read it so many times, he had the entirety of the book memorized. In addition, Ellie's other, more lengthy favorites - he had gone through and cleverly taken a picture of each page, all stored safely in his camera roll for instances such as tonight. No matter where he happened to be, he could read the text, while also drawing attention to and discussing the images with her.

"Sure. Get all comfy and cozy up to Mom, yeah?"

Ellie nestled herself more into your side, her head resting on your arm as she death-gripped onto her plush bunny. You adjusted the duvet to adequately cover the two of you, scooting down and propping the book up for the two of you to see.

"We're ready when you are." You told Aaron, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from Ellie's face.

As your brief sentence concluded, a harsh pinch formed behind Aaron's eyes, the guilt creeping in as he pictured the two of you laid together, where he also should've been. His little girl was beside herself in fear, wanted him, and yet here he was. Far away on the other side of the country. He felt as if he were failing her; letting her down.

Aaron swallowed to even out his voice, to sound as cheery as he possibly could, and to refrain any agony from being heard. He took a deep, yet small guttural breath.

"In the great green room..."

[lookingformoondrop]

ok but Can you image the total shit show it’d be if reader somehow rizzed up BOTH Andrew and Ashley?? 😨 literally preying. Like imagine reader is not necessarily popular, but they definetly are one of the most attractive people in the class if not the most

Andrew Graves x Reader x Ashley Graves

TW: Some nasty cat fights between the Graves siblings, everyone has a potty mouth, mentions of unaliving eachother, not proofread, reader just wanted a cookie.

♥︎Notes: This was actually so fun to write. I always love writing arguments between my two favorite assholes and watching it burn from there. Enjoy this messy headcannon and sorry it took so long<3.♥︎

Someone call the police, ain't no one coming out of this alive.

First, we gotta start with how you rizzed up the siblings. Starting with Andrew,

I can already see that to get through Andrew's heart, you gotta be funny.

Yes I know that this brooding son of a bitch is dressed in only dark colors, but he values some humor and I feel like the way through his heart is that.

You were in class chatting with a classmate near Andrew's desk when the classmate brought up your history teacher. Uptight, strict, and a prick, you said, "If he berates me anymore for my red pen, his head will go so far up his ass he'll find his own bullshit."

Unexpectedly, both of you heard a snort. Searching for the source, you saw Andrew covering his mouth with his hand, horrified by the sound he had just made.

You smiled at him and brushed off the snort to the classmate, "I think we're hearing things."

That truly made his heart flutter.

He had started sitting closer to you after that. Whenever he got ready in the mornings for school, an extra step in his routine was to hope that you were coming too.

"Hey Andrew," you walked by Andrew's desk.

"Y -Y/N! Hi..." Andrew mentally cussed himself our for the stutter.

It was dumb...really dumb.

But it made Andrew smile and feel giddy when he walked home.

I feel like Andrew would be very tame when it came to his feelings for the reader.

He'd blush when you're around and check in with you to make sure you're okay. He'd be too embarrassed to actually ask you out, but he would definitely try to find excuses to hang around you.

Now, the only natural explanation for Ashley's involvement with you would be that she saw her brother with a dumbass grin one day and HAD to investigate.

So, how did you rizz up Ashley?

Well, it's simple, really,

She went to your house to get a clear look at you and saw you dancing through the window,

You were fun and disgustingly too kind.

("Idiot")

But somehow, that fun energy intrigued Ashley. You would smile at her randomly when she corssed the street. You had no idea who she was, and yet that smile irked Ashley (in a somehow pleasant way).

"Hey guys!" She cheerfully entered the classroom doorway, a spring in her step.

Andrew turned to look at the voice and immediately felt a muscle in his forehead twitch. "Great," he thought, "another one of Ashley's ploys so that she can harass any woman out of my life."

You, of course, were baffled at seeing this girl suddenly love up on you, but judging by Andrew's murderous smile towards her, you figured they were related somehow.

But instead of Ashley being an ass towards the reader, she began to cling to their arm.

This began a looooong sequence of events where it would go one of the following ways,

You'd go to a spot around town, invite one of the Graves siblings, and no matter how secluded, isolated, unknown, or illegal said spot was, the other Graves sibling would find and join you.

This definitely opens the possibility of more intense sibling fights.

I say intense, but it's more like,

"SAY HER NAME ONE MORE TIME ASHLEY AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"DO IT ANDY, DO IT, I DARE YOU. WHAT WOULD MY Y/N THINK ABOUT A MURDERER, YOU FUCKFACE!"

The fights would get so loud that the neighbors would call the police

By the time the police came to knock at the door, Ashley was pulling Andrew's hair and trying to put him in the washing machine, while Andrew was clawing at Ashley's face and trying to smack her head against said machine.

When Andrew (and for some reason) Ashley came to school, you were startled by how banged up both of them became. Still, when you asked about it, all they did was brush you off (and stomp on each other's toes when you weren't looking).

While they did loath each other for trying to steal Y/N from one another, they never doubted the protection they felt they owed to Y/N.

Some random classmate decided to hit on you and make you verryyyy uncomfy. When you recounted the tale to Andrew, he refused to leave you alone for weeks, constantly fantasizing about bashing the guys face in.

ASHLEY ON THE OTHER HAND would absolutely demolish any shithead who tried hitting on you. "They needed to be punished!" Is the last thing she said, and the last time you ever saw that classmate.

Was it risky? Yes. Did Andrew scold her for it? Yes. Did either one of them regret it? Hell no.

Overall, the entire relationship is a complete shit show. And even if you begged them to play nice, they'd still fight over you.

"Ashley, can you help me? I can't reach that cookie jar."

Ashley sprung up from her seat. "Sure thing, N/M~" But just as Ashley was going to reach for the jar, Andrew pushed her into a pile of trash bags in the kitchen and proceeded to grab the jar for you.

"Here you go, Y/N," Andrew smiled at you while you panicked on who to check in with first.

Suddenly, from the pile of trashbags came, "Andrew, you ass!"

Fight or flight kicked in, and you immediately bolted out of their kitchen. Having remembered plenty of their fights, you decided that for today, you were perfect content with just going home. That was enough Graves for today...

"ASS-KISSER!"

"BROWN-NOSER!"

Yeah, that was plenty of Graves for today.

Thank you for the ask!<3

[eowynstwin]

Obviously if your asks aren’t open then feel free to disregard this- (love your work btw I just- I cant- 🥰)

Do you think they keep the dog tags *ON* during sex? How do you think they’d wear them during it? Would they have you wear them?

You don’t HAVE to answer for each individual character obviously if you would rather just do it as a whole or just one that’s fine! Whatever works for you 💕

*cracks knuckles* I’ll do ‘em all. (Sorry for the long post, I’ll put it under a readmore when I get home 🙏)

Do the Tags Stay on in Bed?

Ghost wears his tags because, like the mask, they just don't ever come off. He is two people when he is with you--Ghost is the creature that can protect you, that can do the things Simon Riley would have been too weak for when it comes to your safety. But Simon is the man that could have loved you properly. Simon is the man Ghost believes could make you coffee in the morning, could rub your neck at the end of a long day.

It isn't initially why he wears his tags when he fucks you, but it is now--Ghost holds you in an iron grip, looms over you as he thrusts into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, and feels the tags with a dead man's name clink against his chest. They remind him that you deserve whatever is left of the man who would have been far better for you than Ghost ever could be.

Soap wears his tags fully out of pride. The SAS is his life, is a massive part of his identity, and while he knows not every mission he's sent on is wholly for the good, he holds onto his conviction to act with integrity and compassion no matter what. The SAS might not always do good, but he will, as much as he can.

He wants you to be proud of him, too--he's really doing it all for you, after all. When those tags hang between you as your legs are wrapped around his waist, as they come to rest on your chest when he leans down to kiss you, he wants you to know that when he wears them he's thinking of you.

Gaz has no preference, but more often than not they stay on because he forgets to take them off. Usually, it's because the moment you're both free with enough time to actually have sex, he isn't going to bother with silly things like getting completely undressed--he wants you, now.

So, they've whacked you in the face a couple times as the two of you have gone at it. It's too funny to get mad at, and Gaz always uses it as an excuse to "make it up to you." Sometimes he'll take them off, too, and put them around your neck instead. "Keep 'em safe for me, eh?" he says with a grin.

Price takes his tags off. Over 20 years of service have left him wanting something that exists apart from violence and bloodshed, and every moment he spends with you is that something. He doesn't want to be the Captain with you, not unless he has to be--putting his tags aside gives him permission to just be John with you.

Besides, they'd get in the way. John does his very, very best to please you, to satisfy you beyond any expectation you may have of him, and sometimes that leaves you needing to bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. You’d probably not prefer to break a tooth on the tags’ chain.

Alejandro also takes his tags off, although it’s less about keeping work and pleasure separate and more about the annoyance they can be. When he is with you, Alejo is focused wholly on you, and does not appreciate distractions of any sort. He doesn’t want to have to fling his tags around to get them out of the way, or let them hang to be caught on an errant foot or wrist.

He does, however, love to see you wear them. It’s totally a possessive thing, but in the best way—Alejo worships the ground you walk on, and seeing his name around your neck inspires the same awe usually reserved for the divine. He thinks you could have anyone you wanted, and is humbled daily that you continue to choose him.

Rudy doesn’t care either way if the tags are on or off, and if the topic ever comes up he leaves that up to you. It’s an attitude that is very in-character—Rudy’s satisfaction comes from ensuring that you are satisfied, no matter what. Rudy’s love language, hands down, is acts of service.

Similarly to Alejo, however, he does enjoy seeing you wear his tags. “They belong to you anyway, mi vida,” he’ll tell you, lining your neck with gentle kisses. “All of me does.” (He has been known, however, to forget where he puts them if they do come off. So it’s probably better if they stay on.)

Bonus: Valeria gave hers to you a long time ago. She asks very frequently to see them, to make sure you keep them with you at all times. She promised herself she would never, ever carry their weight again, but she also can’t quite bear to throw them away, so now they stay with the only person in the world that she trusts.

If you wear them to bed, it will inspire a frenzy in her that will leave you limping the next morning. Those tags are a past version of her, a version she emerged from like a snake shedding its skin. While she is never sure how to feel about that previous self, seeing you take care its vestiges satisfies an ache in Valeria that she will never acknowledge.

Bonus: Graves has mixed feelings about his tags overall, being that he is technically not required to wear them anymore. They don’t mean the same thing to him now that they used to. That doesn’t mean they aren’t always on him, of course—he keeps them tucked into his boots. So you never see them.

If you were to ever find them, bring them into the bedroom? It could go one of two ways. On the one hand, you could end up benefitting short-term from the frustrated agitation those tags inspire, with Graves using your body to relieve an old, invisible hurt you never knew about. He will withdraw from you afterwords, though, too caught up in himself to really connect with. On the other, he could just withdraw immediately, recede from you, and the tension of that encounter will linger for days. It’s best not to involve his tags at all.

[maxdibert]

hi! i saw in one of your posts you wrote about how Sirius Black had no reason to bully Snape and i thought about it…..i mean doesn't his hatred seem too personal? we have Lupin who has no contact with Snape after book 3 but Sirius goes crazy when Snape is around and they are alone so he can attack him (kitchen scene in book 5). and he knows so much about him: who he hung out with at school, his relationship with Lucius; at the same time he doesn't know about the mark, about how Severus was the one who brought the prophecy to voldemort that led to Lily and James death. and yes he is stuck at age 21 but even then they graduated school and as he says they never heard of Snape in those years. It seems a bit odd: don't bullies usually try to downplay their role in what they did to the victim, or even try to make it look like nothing happened? And he and Remus try to do that with Harry, but at the same time he seems incredibly proud and pleased with himself when he talks about the prank. One moment confused me when I was reading book 3: when Sirius has Peter at gunpoint with his wand, he is extremely focused on him. He doesn't take his eyes off him, because it was for this moment, the act of revenge, that he escaped from prison. As far as I remember, Harry describes it as "nothing could distract him at that moment" or something like that. But as soon as Remus even mentions Snape, Sirius' attention suddenly switches: he turns away from Peter and asks about him again. Or when he watches Snape during the OWL exams??? Especially when Rowling describes his reaction after the exam, when he sees him under the tree, as the reaction of a dog to a rabbit. He seems so obsessed and like something happened between them that really got to him. Or he's just as intolerant of half-bloods as his family. I completely agree with you that Sirius bullied Snape simply because James did it and he found it funny. But his hatred seems excessive, he has no reason to hate Snape so much. James has his excuse about Lily, but Sirius has none of that. But he still tries to kill him and it doesn't really matter hides, lol. I've read an opinion that he hates him because of his unrequited feelings for James, where Severus is the reason James even noticed Lily, which I don't really agree with, to be honest. Sorry, it got too long, ahaha. What I want to ask is: do you have any thoughts on this?

Well, the explanation for his relationships at school is quite simple because Sirius doesn’t leave home until he’s 16. Considering that his brother goes to Slytherin and that Narcissa is his cousin, it’s not strange to deduce that Snape’s name, along with other Slytherin students, probably came up at some family dinner/lunch/meeting. Like, talking about who in Regulus and Sirius’ year might have ‘potential,’ for example. It seems coherent to me that, considering Sirius’ environment until he leaves to live with the Potters, he’d be aware of certain things.

Leaving that aside, let’s talk about Sirius Black, because I think in recent years the Marauders fandom has ruined this character, and he’s actually a character with a lot of depth. Or at least more than many others in the saga.

(This is gonna ne so fucking long lol)

Sirius is a posh kid. He’s a posh kid who is embarrassed about being posh and feels guilty about it. He’s the typical rich kid from a conservative family who’s had issues with his mom (in this case) and his way of getting back at everything he felt was missing from his childhood is to vehemently oppose everything he thinks she represents. And the funniest part is that (as is often the case) his problem with his mom is that they both have a terrible character, which is why they clash. Because Sirius has the kind of terrible character that is incompatible with anyone else who has the same terrible character. But despite everything, he’s still a posh kid. Because he comes from an aristocratic family and was raised with those values of superiority. Because he’s never had to fend for himself (he leaves home but goes to another rich family, the Potters, and on top of that, his uncle Alphard leaves him his entire inheritance, so he has plenty of money) and he has always enjoyed the privilege of his surname, his blood status, and the fact that he’s (according to Rowling) super handsome. In other words, Sirius belongs to the ruling class and behaves with the same arrogance, entitlement, and lack of empathy that is typical of that class. No matter how much he tries to deny it and distance himself from it, he can only do so on a superficial level (Muggle posters, being a Gryffindor, enchanting a Muggle motorcycle) because when it comes down to it, he has no idea how to deconstruct himself, nor is he interested in giving up or losing his privileges, because he’s quite comfortable with them. He’s like the typical aristocratic kid from an Opus Dei family who thinks he’s better than everyone around him because he votes for the left and has been to four protests, but at the end of the day, he still lives a bourgeois life and doesn’t understand the root of social problems.

That said, let’s move on to James.

I think James was everything Sirius wanted to be. No, not be, I think James had everything Sirius wanted to have: loving parents, a family that wasn’t involved in a cult, a pleasant environment that allowed him to do whatever he wanted instead of being constrained by traditions and social norms, liberal and progressive ideals… James had the life Sirius had always wanted, but with one key detail: he was also rich and from an old, prestigious family. This is super important because when Sirius chooses his rebellion partner, he doesn’t pick some random Muggle-born, or a half-blood, or someone from the middle or lower class. Sirius chooses as his best friend someone who embodies everything he wants to be/have, but who at the same time belongs to his same social stratum, both economically and in blood status. Sirius chooses a future Gryffindor rebel with very different ideas from his family, but ironically he chooses like anyone from his family would: someone with money, status, and power. And I find this super amusing because it’s so coherent with his character. I mean, if Sirius were a real person, he would’ve done the same thing because guys like him are like that: the kings of cognitive dissonance and double standards.

Sirius always wanted James’ validation, or at least that’s how I see it. I think for him, feeling that James approved of what he did was a way to legitimize himself as someone different from his family. James represented the “progressive” social elite that Sirius aspired to by rejecting the traditional values imposed on him. So, unconsciously, he understood that if he did everything James wanted, and I’ll go further, everything he thought James would like, then he would distance himself from that Black image and gain validation as something entirely opposite. The problem is that Sirius, unlike James, was raised in an environment where ethical and moral values were very different, and where it was clearly established that certain people were “the other,” an “other” sociologically understood as the idea that some humans are inherently less than others. And although Sirius consciously rejected this idea, unconsciously he had been raised with it. Therefore, consciously, he didn’t reject people based on their blood status because he could identify that as something his family would do, and family = bad. But unconsciously, he was conditioned to see other people as non-people, and this is where Severus comes into play.

James dislikes Severus because he sees him as an obstacle/threat/nuisance in his crush on Lily. By default, and because of that constant need for validation from James, Sirius also focuses on him as a hostile element. And if he’s hostile to James, who in a way is his moral compass, then that guy must be trash because, of course, it’s obvious. But not only that, this guy is also a half-blood and poor, so poor he wears old clothes. And on top of that, he’s ugly. And not very masculine. So he has all the elements for Sirius, the aristocrat raised in luxury under the premise that he’s better than others because of his origins, to see him as “the other” and exercise all his power and privilege to oppress him without remorse, because for him, it’s justified. Justified unconsciously by the education he received, and consciously because if James hates him, there must be a good reason to hate him, so everything is justified. If we add to that the fact that Severus desires everything Sirius has always tried to reject: more social status, more recognition, power, belonging to Slytherin, rubbing shoulders with important wizards, forgetting the Muggle world he grew up in… well, we have a molotov cocktail for him to make Severus’ life unbearable. And Severus is an easy target for someone like school-age Sirius Black: he has no friends, no surname, no parents to protect him, and no stable socio-economic situation. Sirius can project all his frustrations onto him without any consequences. He can completely dehumanize him and stop seeing him as a person. He can behave like a Black.

I think the Prank is a good example to see the difference in upbringing between Sirius and James. Both are bullies, both are abusers, both have zero remorse when it comes to using their status and power to make life impossible for those they believe deserve it. But James was raised in an environment where he knows that actions have consequences, that you can’t cross “certain lines,” such as murder, for example. Sirius was taught the opposite—he was raised to think that the life of “the other” holds no value, and that is something that in his story with Severus goes too far. James understands that death is something serious and can bring terrible consequences, while Sirius does not. For the Black family, death is nothing if there is a reason for the person to die, and Sirius has his own reasons for playing with Severus’ life the way Bellatrix would play with the life of any Muggle-born.

(This is something I really like as well—the way Sirius and Bellatrix are fundamentally alike, and how little that’s discussed. But I’ll leave that for another time, otherwise I won’t finish.)

I don’t think it’s a matter of Sirius being obsessed with Snape, but rather that, for all the reasons I’ve explained, he uses Severus as a catalyst for his repressed anger and that sadism he inherited from his family. He can’t channel it toward anyone else because that would lead to absolute rejection from James. Since James hates and despises Severus, he’s never going to question Sirius for channeling all his pent-up rage on him, so it’s a free pass. If he had reached that level of sadism with someone who didn’t provoke the same level of animosity in James as Severus did, he would have risked confronting his biggest fear: that James would see him as a Black, not as Sirius. Losing his validation as the black sheep to become just another one of them. So he focuses on Severus because it’s a safe bet.

Moving on to their relationship during the book canon…

We don’t really see a proper confrontation until the fifth book. I mean, in the third, it shows that Sirius still sees Severus as “other” by dragging him along while unconsciously banging his head. In the fourth, there’s that scene where Dumbledore forces them to shake hands, and it’s clear they still hate each other. But it’s not until the fifth book that we get a real confrontation, where Sirius loses his temper. I think this has a lot to do with (drumroll) once again that cognitive dissonance between what Sirius always wanted to be and what he actually is, especially given the role he plays on the chessboard at that point in the story.

Sirius did everything he could to distance himself from his family, and the climax of that was joining the Order of the Phoenix and actively fighting against that same family, several members of whom were “soldiers” for the opposite side. Sirius is finally achieving what he wants—to be a hero. To stop being part of the elite dark villains and instead be part of the heroic elite. The noble of high birth who fights valiantly for the good of the realm, just as James was destined to be. It’s the climax, the absolute fulfillment of his adolescent desire. But then he’s thrown into Azkaban, and when he gets out, he finds that the poor, weird kid addicted to dark arts, who sucked up to future dark wizards, who hung out with purists and even joined the “bad side”—the side of Sirius’ family, the villains—is now the most important member of the Order. He’s none other than Dumbledore’s right hand. He’s a double agent risking his neck every day and has more responsibility than anyone else. That kid Sirius called Snivellus for being a crybaby has more guts and more endurance than most people. The one who always wanted to be part of the elite Sirius hated is now the one playing them all, making them look like idiots. The one who looked frail and effeminate turns out to be more “manly.” And that hurts. That hurts a lot. You go to prison, and when you get out, the person you didn’t even consider a person not only ranks above you, but is playing in a league you can’t aspire to. And the best part is, Sirius can’t fully accept it because he’s still Sirius—a classist, privileged aristocrat incapable of accepting that (as is only logical) the poor working-class kid turned out to be far more useful than him in both politics and war.

To me, it’s poetic justice.

[destinationtrekk]

i notice (when you're not around)

He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3

One

“Wesker speaking.” 

He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called. 

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?” 

You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-” 

“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you’re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him. 

“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-” 

He barks out your name, “Get to the point.” 

You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.” 

Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.” 

Two

You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker. 

“Wesker speaking.” 

You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for? 

He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?” 

You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?” 

You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?” 

He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.” 

He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-” 

“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.” 

You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened. 

“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.” 

You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.” 

You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him. 

You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night. 

Three

“Hello, dearheart.” 

“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.” 

That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-” 

“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”

“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.” 

“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.” 

He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-” 

You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.” 

He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.” 

You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.” 

“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.” 

The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen. 

Four 

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…” 

Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?” 

“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?” 

He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.” 

He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping. 

“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-” 

“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!” 

“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.” 

You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now. 

“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-” 

“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth. 

“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-” 

He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you. 

Five

“Hngh- what is it?” 

You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”

He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.” 

You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.” 

He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.” 

You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-” 

He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call. 

Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well. 

Plus One

You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.” 

He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.” 

You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.” 

He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-” 

“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.

[justatypicalwizard]

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming

Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.

Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.

Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.

Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.

"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.

"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.

Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.

"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.

"No. I was going to do my laundry."

"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."

So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.

Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.

Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.

"Depends on what is it."

"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."

Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.

"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.

You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.

"Thanks."

Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.

"My favourite."

So he started to read it.

Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.

"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.

"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.

"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."

"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.

And what was that supposed to mean?

Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.

You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.

"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.

You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'

"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.

[waitingonher]

hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽

percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite

pairing: percy jackson x reader

content warning: coupley things

word count: 916

author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL

you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy. 

percy is such a green flag!! 

HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside. 

you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.

percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.

all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!! 

or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!

sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in. 

shopping dates with percy!! 

you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.

“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body.  your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.”  percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.”  you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.”  “but-”  “no percy.” 

HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears. 

he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.  

this guy has your gas station order down to a tee! 

percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-”  “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face.  with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.”   percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.” 

dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!! 

him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him. 

despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up. 

percy makes you flower bouquets!! 

they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets. 

and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds

one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights! 

you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience! 

even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO 

you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face.  percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband.  “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks.  “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband.  you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.” 

you two are actually a match made in heaven <333 

[cupidysm]

Vegan Pizza

Just a fic I wrote to practice my fluff writing! edit: I’m so happy so many people enjoyed it!

Steven Grant x gn!shy!reader || masterlist ||

summary: (I gotta practice fluff writing) As Steven makes his way back to his flat after being stood up, he runs into his neighbor who helps him find comfort in a warm meal.

content: fluff, making out, awkwardness (but like in an endearing way? I hope)

word count: 1,218

Steven Grant naturally thought bad luck was simply drawn to him. However, the day he landed a date with his co-worker, Dylan, he thought his luck has finally turned around.

Until she didn’t show up.

Steven was a good neighbor. Always greeting you with a smile or a quick “Good morning.” No matter how late he was for work. Now that you were thinking about it, he was kind of cute.

Alright fine, you were enamored.

His big brown eyes, his tooth aching smile, and it didn’t matter how loose fitting his clothes were you could see the traces of muscle through his wide necked shirts. But looks didn’t matter anyways. It was simply being himself that drew you in.

You found yourself returning home later than usual from a busy day at work, and just as you’re about to enter the door to your flat you hear the steps of someone heading up the stairs.

“Bloody chocolates.” Steven mumbled as he slumped up the steps to his floor.

You didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, but earlier that week you had heard him bragging to another neighbor about a date he landed. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say you were the slightest bit jealous, but Steven had a love life too and it wasn’t like he’d wait forever for you to get over your worries and ask him out.

You turned to Steven with a smile. “Hey Steven! How was your date?”

Steven doesn’t recall ever mentioning it to you, but then again he doesn’t remember much now days between his life and his dreams.

“Oh, hi. Yeah…it didn’t go well. She stood me up.” He mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your heart twinged with excitement, but was quickly replaced with sympathy at his downcast expression. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Steven.”

“All I wanted was a bloody dinner with someone to spend time with.” He sighs. “Not get stood up.”

The words slip from your mouth before you can even go over them in your head.

“Wellifyou’restillhungrymaybeyou’dwanttocomeoverandhavesomethingtoeat…” you realize how fast you’re speaking and are able to slow your brain down. “I’m making a pizza..? It’s vegan.”

The first time Steven had mentioned he was vegan you immediately bought a vegan pizza, that way when you did have the excuse to ask him on a date you’d be prepared. Apparently now was that time.

His face lights up slightly at the mention of a meal. “That sounds great! Yeah…I’d like that.” He smiles.

He follows you into your flat and sits down while you take out the frozen pizza.

“I’m surprised you actually had something vegan. Most people think vegan food tastes strange.”

You laughed. “Not me.”

That was a lie. You made one a while back and weren’t entirely fond of it, but if this ended well you’d be happy to eat as many vegan pizzas if it meant you’d get to have more times like this one.

“I remember you mentioned you being vegan a while back so I thought I’d buy it.” You immediately winced at your words. You don’t know how long back he had mentioned this, but you think it was pretty far back. He was definitely gonna think you were weird for remembering something as minuscule as that.

“Yeah, that’s right, I… I am. You remember that?” He asked clearly shocked.

Shit. He did think you were weird.

“Thanks, I… no one really takes the time to listen… or care.”

You’re lucky your turned away from him as you load the pizza in the oven so he won’t see your blush.

“It’s no biggie.” You smile.

The rest of the night you chat between each other. Steven’s once dismal night took a flip from simply spending time with someone as lovely as you. When the pizza is ready, the both of you eat your pizza happily.

“This is good. I still can’t believe you remembered I was vegan.” He smiles.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your face is definitely visibly red.

“It’s big to me. No one really remembers something like that about me.” He chuckles as he looks up at you with his big eyes.

You could’ve kissed him right there with the way he was looking at you. His mouth full of pizza making his cheeks puff out in such an adorable way.

“Bloody hell. must sound desperate, don’t I?” He looks off embarrassed. This time he’s the one blushing.

“No, no ‘course not.” You smile with a giggle.

He flushed again slightly before speaking out.

“You’re… you’re very pretty.” His voice trails off as he looks down at his plate embarrassed.

Your jaw practically falls off. “What?”

“You are very pretty.” His eyes glance up at you before staring locked on your eyes. “Really… beautiful.” His voice trails off.

“Did I say that out loud?” He picks his head up in a panic, his face turning beet red.

You stand up quickly. “I, uh… bathroom-“ You sprint in the direction of your bathroom before shutting the door.

You lean yourself against the wall, your beating so fast you think it might fly out of your chest. You eventually realize you just left him alone and put yourself in an even more awkward situation, so you decide to open the door.

You jump back in surprise and see Steven standing there awkwardly.

“I… er,” he fiddles with his hands. “Did I say something wrong? I- I mean you really are beautiful, and oh bollocks, I ruined it didn’t I.” He stammers out quickly.

You quickly cover his mouth with your hands in order to shut him up.

“Steven, stop it. Stop that.”

His eyes widened when you covered his mouth, a bit shocked.

“What— did I say something wrong?” He asked, his voice muffled.

“No- no of course not.” You squeeze your eyes shut to overwhelmed.

“God, if you keep saying stuff like that I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing you and I like you way too much for me to ruin it.”

He was utterly gobsmacked, his eyes wide as you spoke.

Finally, he managed to respond.

“Are—”

He lifts your hands from his mouth.

“Are you saying you… want to kiss me right now?”

You quickly cover your face.

"And it's such terrible timing too! I- I mean your date just stood you up!" You stammer out.

"I don't care if you kiss me right now. I— uh, I wouldn’t mind…" He said, almost breathless. "This— we, I…"

He couldn't find words— so instead he showed it.

His lips pressed against yours softly, just enough so I’d you were uncomfortable you had the space to pull away, but there was no way you were going to now.

A soft whimper left his lips as you pressed yourself further into him. He slid his hands around your waist, until he eventually pulled back to let the two of you breath.

“That was good.” Is all he manages. “That was very good.”

You can’t help but giggle and eventually he can’t either. He laughs alongside you, arms still entangled in eachother.

“…Could I take you on a date. A real one. No getting stood up?” His eyes sparkling with hope.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Be Jolly

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, drinking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You are on the hunt for the perfect present but the price is steeper than you expect.

Character: Sam Wilson

Day Twenty-Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - who invited them to the holiday party?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The cushion beside you jostles as something, rather someone, hits your elbow with theirs. You glance over at Sam as he stares across the room, a drink in both hands. He narrows his eyes as he continues to stare, you’d even say glare, at someone? 

“Who invited her?” He mutters. 

“Who?” You ask. 

“Did I say that out loud?” He winces and looks at you, offering a glass of the ‘festive punch’, “you’re right, it’s cranberry.” 

“Raspberry didn’t seem very festive,” you kid. 

“Well, maybe a bucket of merlot would be fitting.” 

“And just as strong,” you pull the glass away from your mouth, “wow.” 

“Zesty?” He asks and you nod emphatically. 

“So,” you swallow completely, “who was invited to your chagrin?” 

“My chagrin? Oh, uh, doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, his shoulders even wider on the couch as he crowds you in your corner. 

“Seems like it does,” you say, “but you don’t have to tell me.” 

“Hm, yeah. I guess... it shouldn’t matter, you know? It was a while ago. A long time actually.” He pauses and tastes the punch. “I shouldn’t care... ooh, you’re right about the punch.” 

“Strong but delicious,” you say, “nice party, huh?” 

“Sure,” he agrees, his eyes once more fixated across the room. 

You follow them and see a group of women. They're all very beautiful. They were dresses in varying shades of red, blue, and even gold. Very festive. 

“My ex,” he huffs. “Yeah, you know, got a few of those and somehow they always seem to find me.” 

“Oh... Oh! That’s awkward,” you giggle nervously. “Wish I could help you there. I don’t really have that problem.” 

“Ha, of course. You’re too sweet for that—shit,” he grimaces and you nearly spill your drink as he nudges you with his elbow. You switch hands as he grabs your other. “Play along. Please.” 

You barely process what’s happening as he clings to your hand. You look up as one of the women approaches with a preening smirk. She’s gorgeous. Her midnight blue dress is speckled with gemstones. The kind you would love to have if you had any sense of style. And her hair, gorgeous spiraled curls that swallow up the light. 

“Destiny, hey,” he clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on? Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Despite his previous displeasure, he sounds casual. He's always so cool and calm. It’s what makes him such a good friend. 

“Sammy,” she grins. “Nice to see you too. You look... rested.” 

You think she means more than she says. You’re not the best at reading between the lines. Sometimes, for the worse, you assume the best. 

“You too, Dee,” he stays reclined, unbothered. “So, just you and the girls?” 

“Sure, Emma always puts on a great party, doesn’t she?” she shimmies just a little with her purr. You fidget and slurp louder than you mean to. “Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry, hon. I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m Destiny.” 

“Destiny,” you perk up, “uh, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too, sweetie,” she drawls, “have fun with Sammy. He’s always a good time.” 

She winks and spins, strutting back to her group. You gulp awkwardly, the burn of alcohol nestling deep in your gut. You need to slow down. 

“That wasn’t weird at all,” he says. “Sorry about that. She always has to be so extra. She’s the one who ghosted me, you know? But she acts like I'm the problem.” He scoffs and tuts, swigging from his own glass. “Don’t even let her get to you. She wishes she was as sweet as you. She’s the devil.” 

You nod and rest your glass against your leg. You wiggle your fingers between his, “uh, Sam, my hand’s falling asleep.” 

“Uh, oh, yeah,” he looks down before he lets you go. “Forgot... thanks, er, for just playing it cool. Can’t imagine if I was here alone. Wouldn’t have to worry if Buck wasn’t such a damn sour puss.” 

“He’s not coming?” You wonder. You don’t often find one without the other. 

“Just me, sorry to disappoint,” he stretches his fingers and sits forward, drinking again, this time with a hunch. 

“I didn’t mean that,” you insist as you lean forward too. “I just thought... I dunno. I’m usually the third wheel, aren’t I?” 

“Nah, that would be Bucky,” he snorts. “You really think that?” 

“I guess, but it’s not like, that deep,” you shrug. “You’ve known each other so long.” 

“Well, it’s not his fault he’s ancient and not mine I’ve been cursed with him,” he snickers. “Tell you what,” he looks at you with a smirk. “Tonight, I’ll show you that you aren’t no third wheel, alright? We’re going to have a blast. Just you and me. You’ll see exactly what you are.” 

“Oh,” you smile, “sounds like a plan, uh...” you look at your drink, feeling its warmth in your cheeks already. “It would be hard not to have any fun with this stuff.” 

“Yep,” he licks his lips and raises his glass, “strong but too good to stop.” 

🎄

You haven’t been this drunk in... well, ever. You’re not much of a drinker. On the odd occasion, you’ll have glass, but nothing excessive. Until tonight. 

The party buzzes around you; music, voices, lights. It all smears together as a dull pain sinks in behind the glaze in your vision. You need some water. Your stomach is too full of alcohol and salty finger foods. 

You look around. The bowl of punch is about empty and the cooler’s open as most of the contents have been picked clean. At least you aren’t the only one above their limit. You stagger around dizzily as you search for anything to dilute your haze. 

You clutch your drained glass down as you enter the kitchen. Where’s that girl Emma? She’s the host, right? You don’t want to just dig through her fridge without asking first. Ugh, but your stomach feels so...sloshy. 

You go to the tap and rinse out the used cup. You fill it with tap water. You take a small sip and slowly swallow. The tepidness doesn’t do much to sooth your insides. 

“Hey,” Sam’s voice startles you. You flinch so hard you splash your dress with the water. You put the glass down and face him, shaking off the droplets. “Sorry, did I do that?” 

“Hm, oh, I’m a bit... tipsy... I think,” you murmur groggily. “I shouldn’t have had so much.” 

“It’s alright, everyone’s lit,” he crosses the kitchen without even a sway. Well, he’s probably got a much higher tolerance. 

“Right, uh... I’m just not...” you clamp your lips shut before you can burp. You breathe it out your nose and gulp. “...used to it.” 

“That’s fine, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he closes in as you lean against the counter. “You wanna hold my arm? You can lean on me.” 

“I just need... a minute,” you wave him off. 

You close your eyes and frame your face with your hands. You try to sort through the fuzziness and the fire in your chest. Was it three or four drinks? More than that? You weren’t counting, Sam just kept bringing you more. 

“I think... I think I need to go home,” you exhale and force your eyes open. “Oh!” 

You flinch as you find Sam right in front of you, crowding you. You blink as his hand frightens you. He pets the side of your head as you gape at him in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp. 

“Shh, baby, I told you, I'll take care of you.” 

You lean your head into his hand without thinking. You grip the counter tight, your body heavy from alcohol and fatigue. You fight the droop in your eyelids and the yawn twitching in your cheeks. You just want to lay down. 

“You okay, baby?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb. 

Baby? Why does he keep calling you that? You giggle. It’s such a strange thing to say. 

“You’re drunk. So drunk,” he says. 

You hiccup and nod, “I am,” your voice bubbles in your throat. “So are you!” 

He grins and tilts his head, “not really.” 

“Sure, you must be... you had as much as me.” 

His eyes narrow, “did I?” 

Did he? 

You can’t remember. It doesn’t really matter now. You’re not doing to well. Your legs shake and threaten to collapse as you hold yourself up against the counter. Before you can give in to the weakness, he scoops you up and sits you on the granite. You let out a squeak of surprise. 

“Sam!” You squeal. 

“Baby,” he drags his hands away from your hips and down your thighs. You feel your dress rise above your knees as he nudges your legs apart. “You okay? Spinning?” 

Your head bobbles as lines squiggle in your vision, “a lil...” 

“Sure you are,” he growls. “Warm and soft...” 

He hooks his thumbs under the hem of your skirt and lifts it up your thighs. You squeak again and grab at the fabric. “Sam, what are you doing?” 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he tugs your skirt free of your resistance. “Just relax for me,” 

“I’m-- no—what?” You garble as you give a long blink. “Sam, my head.” 

“I know, baby, close your eyes,” he coos. 

“Mm, I’m too... tired,” you grumble as your lashes shut against your volition. “Sammmm...” the last consonant drags. 

“That’s it, baby, be good for me,” his warm hand cradles your skull as you tilt back. He lays you across the granite so your head hangs off the opposite edge. “I’m gonna show you... you’re not a third wheel, are you?” 

You drone mindlessly as even behind your eyelids, the world spins around you. You feel like you’re moving yet paralysed all at once. You spread your fingers wide and press your palms to the cold countertops.  

The cool air grazes your thighs and hot tickle crawls up the front of your panties. Your head lolls as you fight the dizziness. Stay awake. Awake! 

Your eyes snap open and you fight to lift your head. The warmth between your folds draws your eyes down to Sam as he reaches between your legs. His dark eyes are fixated on your pelvis, below your skirt where you can’t see. He rubs you firmly as the sensation creeps down your legs and up your spine. 

You slur but can’t speak. Your eyes roll back and your head drops down again. You tense against the granite as he continues to tease you. You waver on the edge of consciousness as his fingertips dance on your nerves. 

You’re swept up in the flurry of fire coiling around you. Your feet arch and you push your shoulders down. Your breath fills your ears as you puff and pant, your voice trickling out weakly. 

“Oh, baby, that’s it,” Sam purrs as you feel something dip into you. It isn’t until he’s wiggle two fingers deep inside you that you realise what’s happening. He groans and praises you, “you take me so good. So tight. That’s it, relax. Let Sam take care of you.” 

He rocks his hand, pressing against your clit as he does. The tension clusters there, roiling and speckling beneath your skin. You moan and mewl, writhing as your feet kick against the cupboards. 

“Fuck, baby, you got me hurting,” he pulls his fingers out slowly and wipes them down your thigh. He flutters along your skin and gives a pinch. “So fucking sexy, you know that?” 

He once more grips your hips and slides you down the counter. Your head comes flat over the surface and your lashes part, giving a glimpse of the kitchen lights as they ring in your drunken vision. He balances you on the edge and shifts between your legs. 

You force your eyes wide and turn your head. You stare at the door to the front room. In that moment, the glaze of alcohol breaks and you hear and see everything so clearly. The voices competing with the music, the clink of glasses and shuffle of footsteps. The trim of the doorway and the flawless white paint. 

The dull pain that splits you drowns your lungs with a shriek. Sam smothers it in his hand as he keeps going, pushing his tip past the seal of your resistance. He hushes you as he rocks gently, urging further and further into you. 

You shake as you fight to raise your head. You look at him as tears form on the brims of your eyes. He has a hand splayed over your pelvis as he invades you inch after inch. You warble into his palm as he bites his lip and ignore your pain. 

He sighs as he impales you to his limit and well past yours. You arch your back and curl your toes as you try to ease the pressure. You beg him with pitiful whimpers against his hand. 

He slides back, staring at his length as he does, then pushes back in. You clench and grasp his wrist, your guts tightening. His hand pushes up your skirt as it trails up to your stomach then along the front of your dress. 

He shoves your head down to suppress your rising voice. He keeps you trapped there as his hand blocks out your sobs. His other hand delves under the vee of your dress and he fondles your chest. You snivel and flick your eyes back to the vacant ceiling. You close them as you try to hide from this distorted reality. 

Sam pumps into you, groaning and grunting as his pace builds. Faster, harder, until your flesh claps loud enough to be heard against the drone from just the other side of the wall. You shudder as that fact feeds your futility. Here you are, just feet away from help, and you can do nothing. 

“Yes, baby, that’s it,” Sam moves his hand beneath your head, lifting you slightly off the counter, and his other curling under your ass as he buries himself deeper. “Be a good girl for me. Let everyone hear how much you want me? Huh? Let that bitch know she’s can’t compare to you, baby.” 

[otomiyaa]

Diluc x Ticklish Male!Reader

Romantic + 11. “So, what will be your next excuse to tickle me?” Requested by @blue-little-angel for my 1K Followers Event🌻

You started it. Really, anyone would say you literally asked for it. But how could you help yourself? When Diluc was tying his hair in one of those pretty ponytails with his hair tie in his mouth, looking so gentle, charming, vulnerable, beautiful...

Well, your hand just acted on its own!

You reached out, tickled him and watched his adorable reaction unfold. The delight of watching him yelp with his arms shooting down, and seeing the blush spread on his cheeks, it was quite short-lived.

You went from giggling triumphantly to cackling your head off the moment he lunged at you, his fingers digging into your sides for a fitting tickly revenge.

"Cheeky little guy, you thought that was funny hmh?" he said with his hair tie still between his teeth as he tickled you, his attack calm and calculated, yet so very torturous.

"Yehehes! I'm sorry-ackhahha! Dil-Diluhuhuc wahahait!" you laughed, and you tried to jump up and get out of his reach, but this was a game easily won by him. You always failed at tickle fights against your evil boyfriend, no matter how much you tried to win.

It was a combination of those ticklish sensations and the way Diluc would always look whenever he tickled you: so charming and elegant, it made your entire mind and body go weak.

And it happened a lot, actually. Whether you teased him physically or verbally, whether he was trying to be romantic, playful or vengeful, or whenever you were too tired in the morning or too energetic, Diluc would find a reason to tickle you.

It became clear to you that he just enjoyed this way of showing affection, and you might like it even more. Despite the somewhat uncharming noises you made every now and then...

"Heehehehee NAhh! Not thehehere!" you howled when his wiggling fingers reached under your shirt. You weakly grabbed his hands but were unable to stop them from making you laugh. Diluc smirked at your attempts.

"You'd say that no matter where," was his soft answer, and with one hand he swiftly took the hair tie out of his mouth and put it around his wrist. He then pulled you tightly against him into a warm and comfortable hug, but, not without the tickles.

"Eyaaahaha! Okahahay I'm sohohorry! Yehehes?!" you laughed, kicking your legs in hysteria. Diluc merely scratched your tummy and sides and was able to turn you into such an embarrassing orchestra of sounds and noises with only little effort.

"Hmm," Diluc hummed, staring absent-mindedly in the distance while his fingers continued to scribble all over your ticklish areas.

"One more time," he suggested.

"I'm sohohorry for tihihickling you!" you howled, trying the more specific way. And it worked! Diluc only tickled you a little more after that, then he finally stopped.

"Whew. This time, I kinda deserved it," you agreed breathlessly, and you pulled your shirt back down to cover up your tummy which still felt ticklish even when Diluc's attack had stopped seconds ago.

"Hmm," Diluc responded quietly, and he nodded. You smirked, thinking it was so funny that for such a quiet guy, he sure was very tickly.

"So, what will be your next excuse to tickle me?” you asked, and you noticed from the way Diluc blushed that he wasn't ready to suddenly be confronted with his repetitive ways of punishing you, teasing you, and so on.

"Well... I-if you keep giving me reasons to..." Diluc looked you in the eye and paused mid-sentence, changing his mind. He then gave you a tender kiss on your lips and smiled.

"I mean... why would I need an excuse to tickle my boyfriend?" Diluc asked, no longer looking flustered. The one who was blushing like crazy: it was you again. Eep. 2-0 for Diluc! You collapsed against him and couldn't stop smiling, covering your face with your hands while you gathered your breath.

In the meantime, Diluc finally successfully finished tying his hair, looking even more beautiful. You were truly so lucky to have him!

[luvsymai]

FAKE BOYFRIEND ; Shoto Todoroki

Chapter 2: I TOLD THEM THAT WE’RE DATING.

Genre: Romance, fluff

Warnings: none

<- Series

<- Previous chapter // Next part ->

___________________________________

You turned to look at both Ochako and Mina, and they were already looking at you with wide eyes. You just know this would spread like wildfire tomorrow, especially since Mina is right beside you.

Fuck it. You already know what’s going to happen, so you decided to go with the flow anyways. You can worry about what would happen later.

“What the hell are you talking about? I am dating him.” You glared at Kai the best you can, despite feeling your heartbeat accelerate.

I am so, so sorry for dragging you into this, Todoroki. You thought.

He gritted his teeth at what you said. Coming at you, but before he could do that, Mina and Ochako stopped him.

“She clearly doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave, you asshat.” Mina clenched her fists.

“Tsk,” He pushed them away, and grabbed your wrist which made your eyes widen. That was what crossed the line.

You forcefully removed his hand away using your quirk, which made him release you. “Fuck off, will you? Don’t hurt my friends.” You intentionally looked at the surroundings to make him conscious of how many people stopped to see what was going on. There were a lot of eyes staring at the commotion happening between the two of you.

That was what made him stop. He only glared at you, and left.

But you knew that probably wasn’t the last time he’ll bother you. Once he left, you apologised to both Mina and Ochako profusely for getting hurt.

“No, it’s fine! It wasn’t your fault.” They reassured, but you still apologised nonetheless.

“That must’ve been your ex, if I’m not wrong?” Ochako said, and you only sighed. You explained your circumstances to them, except about the fact that you mentioned you were dating Todoroki.

“More importantly… you’re dating Todoroki?!” Mina exclaims. She really can’t let go of that, huh?

You bit your lip, before answering them.

“Well… Yeah…”

They continued to ask questions, but you avoided answering them like the plague, and continued going to the cafeteria.

“I’ll order for us.” You excused yourself and they nodded, telling you what they wanted and you took note of that.

You left them to line up while they find a seat. It took a few minutes for you to order, and once you were done, you looked for them.

Once you saw where they were, your face paled after seeing who they sat with. You knew they sat with them on purpose.

You internally groaned, having no choice but to go to them.

“Here she is, Todoroki!” Mina teased, and you choke on your own spit, caught off guard. Iida and Midoriya, who was with him, were confused. They didn’t know what was happening.

“Uhm, Todoroki, please come with me,” Without thinking twice, you put the food on the table, and grabbed Todoroki’s wrist, leaving the cafeteria with you. The poor boy looked perplexed, having to leave behind his precious cold soba.

Once you were somewhere far away from the canteen, you released Todoroki from your hold and looked at him. He looked very confused.

You quickly bowed to him. “First of all, i’m very sorry, Todoroki..”

You looked up at him to look at his reaction, since it was silent afterwards. But it was no use as his expression was unreadable once again. What were you expecting?

“What for..?” He asked, having no clue what you were apologising for.

You took a deep breath before replying, avoiding eye contact. “Actually.. while we were on our way to the cafeteria, my ex went up to me and bugged me again. Then he was talking about how he didn’t believe me when i said that we were dating, and now my friends think we’re dating…”

“I’m really, really sorry..” You whispered nervously. Your dignity was now gone, and he probably thinks of you as nothing but bothersome. You really didn’t want this to happen; nor did you want others to be involved in your personal matters. You didn’t want people to feel troubled and feel like they needed to help you.

“…” It was silent for awhile. But it only made your uneasiness grow, instead of calming you down.

“…It’s fine.” He said, making your eyes widen as your head snapped up to look at him. He displayed no signs of emotion as usual, but it looked like he was thinking deeply about something.

“What? What do you mean it’s fine?” You questioned him, confused. How could he— how could he at the very least not get mad at you? You would’ve expected that he would at least show some signs of annoyance to you, but he was only thinking about something with a calm look on his face.

“I mean that it’s all right? I don’t mind if they think that we’re dating. It doesn’t affect me in any way, plus…” Todoroki said with a straight look on his face, glancing at the canteen and back at you.

“Plus..?” You were nervous about what he was going to say.

“I can be your boyfriend, if that’s what you want.”

Your breath hitched, as you felt your face become hot. Were you imagining this?

Were you breathing properly?

The obvious answer is no.

“W—What?” You were stunned from what he said. He wanted to be your boyfriend? Your heart skipped a million beats from what he said. You dumbass, you face palmed internally. He probably worded it wrong, you shouldn’t assume things. You weren’t close with him, nor do you two talk to each other that much. He probably meant something like being your fake boyfriend for awhile so that your ex would stop bothering you.

“I meant that I can act as your boyfriend for awhile, if that’s what you want..” He sounded flustered for a moment, as he explained what he meant. You were correct.

Well, you definitely didn’t mind. But you were worried that you were being troublesome for him.

“Are you sure about that..? It might be too troublesome for you..” You asked, worry laced in your tone.

“Well, as i said, I don’t care since it doesn’t affect me in any way. Your ex is bothering you and you don’t want that, right?” He stated.

What he said was right, but what about him? What would he gain from acting as your boyfriend? You were grateful enough that he even offered to act to be your boyfriend, but you can’t help but think about how this would be bothersome for him.

“…I don’t really see how this benefits you in any way, Todoroki. From what i see, this would only benefit me and you won’t get anything from it. We would have to act all lovey-dovey in front of others, and the whole class would think we’re dating.” You replied, looking at him. And for once, his expression changed.

His eyes widened a bit, taken back with what you said. You were scared that he would take back what he said, so you panicked. “I—I mean, I’m grateful that you want to help me but i’m wondering how this would benefit you in any way…”

“The others already know, right? There’s no use denying the rumours, especially when your ex is still lurking around…” Instead of answering you, he avoided the topic.

You didn’t want to push the subject any farther, as you were afraid that he would take back what he said.

“T—Then, are you fine with acting like a couple in front of others?” You questioned, unsure. You wanted to get his consent before touching him and acting like a couple.

“…That’s fine, as long as you tell me beforehand doing something.. extreme. The same goes for you, too.” He told you. So it was fine, as long as you both consented to it.

He suddenly touched your hand; which made you slap his hand away from surprise. You did not expect that at all, you were about to apologise when he spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I was just trying to figure out how to act like your boyfriend..”

Your eyes widened with what he said. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. What the hell, he’s so… adorable.

“O—Oh.. we can do that later.”

“If that’s what you want, (Name).”

<- Series

<- Previous chapter // Next part

Taglist: @eempxth @1ovesiick

[koiiiji]

and what about damn Seoul?

tw ; arguing, but happy ending(quite?), fluff

summary ; Kwak Jibeom always felt like he was in the eye of a hurricane when Jihan, you and Jichang were arguing. but at the same time it was funny to watch — the king of Seoul always obediently gets up from the table every time you leave the family dinner because of another revealed secret — for example, how it was the last time you found out about another large illegal scheme that Jichang was pulling off, after he assured you for the hundredth time that this would never happen again

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

it had been a relatively quiet evening when your boyfriend and his brothers finally arrived at family dinner. the aroma of grilled meats filled the air, and the clinking of utensils provided a backdrop to the awkward silence brewing between you and Jichang. the fight from earlier still hung heavy, casting a shadow over the meal.

Jihan poked at his plate, a scowl etched onto his face. his usual moody demeanor felt heightened tonight, and you weren’t about to let it slide.

“so, Jihan,” you began with a casual yet pointed tone, slicing through the silence like the edge of a knife. “how’s school going? keeping up with your studies?”

Jihan’s fork paused mid-air before clattering back onto his plate. he rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “school’s pointless. maybe i’ll just quit and become a gangster like him.” he nodded toward Jichang, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

room tensed. your gaze flickered to Jichang, expecting him to intervene. to say something. to defend the idea that his brother finishing school might matter. but he stayed silent, jaw tight, avoiding your eyes. it stung.

“Jihan,” you said firmly, your patience thinning, “school is important. at least finish high school. it’s not just about grades; it’s about giving yourself options —”

Jihan snorted, interrupting you. “what’s the point when people like us don’t need it?”

at that, Jibeom finally spoke up. “she got a point, you know. you’re not going to get far with that attitude.”

you shot Jibeom a grateful glance, but the tension was palpable. Jihan shifted uncomfortably, mumbling something under his breath.

“excuse me?” you asked, raising a brow.

“vixen,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to catch.

you froze. Jibeom looked between the two of you with wide eyes, while Jichang’s hand clenched into a fist — but still, he said nothing. the silence from your boyfriend hurt more than Jihan’s insult.

without a word, you stood up from the table, your chair scraping against the floor. the heat of frustration bubbled beneath your skin. “you know what? enjoy your dinner.” you throw your napkin and left the room.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

hour later, you sat on the couch, still fuming. the faint sound of footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up to see Jihan and Jichang standing in the doorway. Jihan looked sheepish, while Jichang carried his usual stoic expression, though his eyes held a flicker of regret. his snake eyes narrowed and waving his head, he invited his brother to step forward.

“Jihan has something to tell you.”

younger shuffled forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “i... i’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

you sighed, your frustration softening slightly. “Jihan,” you said gently, standing up and stepping closer to him. placing your hands on either side of his face, you tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

“listen to me,” you began, your voice firm but kind. “i’m not asking you to go to college or to have everything figured out. but please — please — finish high school. at least that. your brother is working hard to give you two a good life. you’re at a wonderful school in Seoul, living your best years, your youth, even if you don’t see it now...”

and your warm smile disarmed him. Jihan’s face flushed crimson, and he quickly averted his eyes.

“actually, about Seoul...” he muttered, glancing at Jibeom, who had now entered the room and leaned against the doorframe.

“what about Seoul?” you asked, your concern growing. you looked at Jibeom, then at Jichang, who sat silently on the couch behind Jihan, watching the exchange.

“what about damn Seoul?” you demanded, your voice rising.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

“let me get this straight,” you said, pacing back and forth. “some crazy Mexican guy came to Seoul, beat up your people, attacked you with an axe and claimed himself as a king of Seoul — so now we have to leave the city and hide out in the countryside?”

Jibeom nodded solemnly, “he also ate raw meat” he added, as if it was an important detail that you missed. Jihan stared at the ground and Jichang remained seated, arms crossed, his face unreadable.

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated. “no, hold on —” you stopped, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m going to need a glass. no, several glasses of wine. i’ve had enough of this.”

Jichang finally spoke, his voice low. “i should’ve told you earlier.”

“you think?” you snapped, shooting him a glare. he flinched slightly but didn’t argue.

as you poured yourself a generous glass of wine, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten yourself into this mess. then again, looking at the three brothers and you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“well,” you muttered, swirling the wine in your glass. “here’s to surviving whatever chaos comes next.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

MASTERLIST

[mindful-of-ideas]

TW: mention of alcohol, reader gets black out drunk.

A/N: Based on this request here by anon. Sooooooo… it’s been a while since I watched Peaky Blinders so if it doesn’t make sense timeline wise, I’m sorry. Also it’s been a while in general, sorry to have vanished without a word. Life got busy. Also I never realised the age gap between Tommy and Ada was thaaaaat big, so I kind of worked my way around it. Hopefully you still like it.

“Come on,” you said whining, “it’s one night, I think I’ll manage!”

“I just don’t want anything to happen to my little girl,” Polly said almost whispering.

You sat down by her side on the couch and rested your head on her lap.

“I promise I’ll be careful, I’ll make sure all the doors are locked and go to bed early.”

Gently, she brushed your hair with her fingers.

“You promise? With all of the arrests lately and… “

There was a long silence. Last week, they had arrested a bunch of members of the Peaky Blinders, but some coppers went too far. They had humiliated their wives, beating them in front of their children when they could, throwing them in the streets barely clothed otherwise, just in hope they knew something about their husbands whereabouts. They almost never did.

“I promise. You even could have one of the boys come around to check on me,” you added.

You hated being checked on, and she knew that. But you wanted her to have an actual relaxing weekend, it took you weeks to convince her to take a break, and mostly you wanted to have a fun weekend out.

“Alright. But you open the door for no one else, and if anything happens…”

“I keep my mouth shut until you or Tommy come and get me out, I know.”

“And he’s probably the one I’ll send to come and check on you,” she added.

You raised an eyebrow at her. You had only suggested it to ease her mind. You never believed she would actually send one of the boys to look after you like you were some little child.

“If,” she corrected herself, “I were to send someone, I would send Thomas. But I trust you.”

She kissed your forehead gently.

But deep down you knew you had to think of a backup plan in case Tommy did actually show up. Though, you wouldn’t complain too much. He too was a busy man and you couldn’t remember the last time he took a break, or the last time you even saw him for that matter.

It probably was well over two months ago, and well, the whole night was kind of a blur, a mix of alcohol and too much fun. Yet you could remember everything that led to that one night.

Polly had taken you in when you were barely five years old. Your mother, a friend of hers, had become suddenly ill, and your father, in true manlike fashion, had fled to London like a thief in the middle of the night. It didn’t take much convincing for Polly to take you in. She always told you she could never refuse your mom anything, on her dying bed more than ever. You never felt like you were a burden to Polly either. If anything, you were her blessing. This was how you had ended up growing alongside the infamous Shelby family.

Ada was your best friend, probably your only real friend too. You were thick as thieves. Polly wasn’t too fond of your friendship however. She seemed to always come up with excuses when Ada was about to get herself, and you, into real trouble, trying to keep you safe. Often, she would ask for your help around the house, mostly with Finn, who was still so young. How could you say no, you loved Finn like a brother.

You didn’t care much for the older boys, John was nice to you, beating up your bullies, but Arthur always seemed too old for you to even consider getting closer to him. He would make an effort to be nice to you, probably out of respect for Polly, but to say you considered him like a brother would be wrong, false.

Then, there was Tommy. The dark and mysterious Thomas Shelby. Has he always been like this? No, that couldn’t be possible. You had a clear picture of him crying at his mother’s funeral, birthday cards retelling shared laughters and a curved scar on your collarbone, witness to great adventures. You knew a Tommy no one else knew. Yet these memories, as he got older, turned into echoes of conversation late at night between him and Polly, where he sounded like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, whispers about girls trying to take a bite out of him and ripples of tears you couldn’t see anymore. That’s when he became the mysterious Thomas Shelby and that’s when your indocile naïve teenage heart began aching for him. But when he never stopped caring for you, you had to realise that this crush couldn’t last.

Yet he was not acting dark and mysterious that night, which was something unusual. The thought that the old Tommy could be back left your heart racing. Yet you were certain you had gotten over your crush, it had been too long to still hold on to silly hope. Now, however, the embarrassment of a childlike crush wasn’t there. The feeling was different, sharper. Ada caught you staring at him.

“Come on,” she had said, “you can go and bother him, I’ll cover for you if he gets pissed, say you were drunk or something.”

She said those words as if she knew something you didn’t. It didn’t matter though. She was right, you were drunk, and well, drunk-you wanted to go say hi to Tommy. Drunk you felt like a strong independent woman, who knew better than to be intimidated by handsome boys. You had dated handsome boys, this was child’s play. Though Thomas was a man. You had gotten up clumsily and made your way to the bar. Slurring your words just a little, you managed to start a conversation. You don’t remember much of what was said. Niceties mostly, hopefully. Maybe something about the good old days, when everything new felt like a warm and bright sun shower. Still, you did remember his eyes. How they were piercingly cold when you had started talking, yet by the end of the night they had a soft coldness to them that felt welcoming. This and his laugh. Somehow you had made him laugh and even today, his crystal clear laugh still echoed in your head.

You had awoken up the next day with a massive headache. How you made it back home was still a mystery. You remembered an Ada-like shadow leaving the pub around an early midnight and drinks still getting poured out for you. Tommy was buying, why would you have left then?

•••

There was a faint knock on the door. Carefully, you got up and cracked the door open. It was still early in the night and you started worrying that this wasn’t one of the Shelby boys behind the door.

“Tommy? What are you…”

“Polly asked,” he answered.

“She said IF,” you said, whining.

“And decided she was going to,” he said sternly, “And Polly was really clear that you weren’t to get into trouble. If I had come by later, could you promise you wouldn’t have been out?”

“No,” you thought. He was right. You let the door swing open more. You had planned on going out but had not started getting ready yet. You were still in well-worn clothes, nothing unfamiliar to Tommy.

“I’m not a kid anymore, I can take care of myself just fine. I should be able to go out if I want to.”

“I know…”

“So you’ll let me go, great! Now please get out so I can get ready.”

But he stood in the doorway, not moving.

“Was there anything else?” you asked after some time.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

“You… what…” you said blushing, “Tommy I look like shit right now. I… I haven’t…”

“I don’t care.”

He took a step towards you, pushed the door aside and grasped your face in his hands. Gently, you pried yourself away from him. His face was still close to yours. His blue eyes looking intensely at you, you could feel his gaze examining every inch of your face. Coldness washed over you, awakening all of your senses. You were suddenly hyperaware of your surroundings and you couldn’t look at him anymore. You had to look at the door. The wide-open door. What if someone saw you? What if the cops were to walk down the street right this instant?

“The door,” you finally whispered.

Grabbing you by the waist, he spun you around and pushed you against the door, closing it at the same time.

“What about the door?” he asked.

His other hand above your head, you felt small, trapped between him and the door. You bit your lip and started giggling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you quickly said, “it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I know you… this just exactly how I’d imagine the dark and mysterious Thomas Shelby to act, yet it feels so strange.”

“Dark and mysterious,” he said, feigning surprise.

“You know…” you started, lowering your gaze. If he could just move back a little bit, you would feel so much more confident. “How everyone talks about you. And how I suddenly got more books when you moved out…”

“And how somehow Ada’s destructive plans always fell through?” he suggested.

“Wh-… you…”

“Yeah, me.” He said, lifting your chin gently to face him again. “Can I?” he asked in a whisper, pulling your face closer to his.

You nodded timidly. What was going on with you. This was Tommy, not some fucking stranger at the bar.

“Say it,” he teased.

“Yes.”

He kissed you, passionately. Had his hand not moved from your chin to be tangled in your hair, you would’ve bashed your head against the door.

He kissed you. And kissed you again.

You closed your eyes as he trailed kisses down your neck, all the way to your collarbone. He lingered on your scar when you shot your eyes open, pushing him back.

“What, what is it?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“Since when?”

“What?” He tried to lift your chin up but you swatted his hand away.

“Since when… do you have feelings… for me?” you managed to blurt out.

“You always…” he started but you cut him short.

“No!” you said, pushing him back. “I mean it, since when!”

“I don’t get what’s wrong? Y/N, just calm down.”

“What’s wrong?”

Thousands of things were wrong and they hit you all at once. Right there, right then, at the worst possible moment.

“What’s wrong?” you asked again. “What’s wrong is every single men who looked at me like I was some piece of meat every time I walked into a bar since I turned 18! What’s wrong is these same men doing the same thing year after year after year and to girls younger and younger and younger than me! If you said you loved me since forever, I would feel so disgusted with myself and I… and I…”

You were hyperventilating at that point. You didn’t know why and how these thoughts just suddenly came to you. Maybe it was because this was just too much to handle, maybe it was because you’ve only dated boys, man-children, before.

“Hey, hey, just breathe, okay,” he said, gently stroking your hair away from your face with both his hands.

“Since when?” you asked one last time between sobs.

“Since the last time I saw you, something… changed,” he finally answered.

Slowly, you managed to silence your breathing and slow down your sobs.

“But, you always were special, Y/N,” he said. “Things slowly fell into place, but I assure you, I never and would never consider you as anything else than my equal, if not more.”

Blushing deeply, you tried to turn away, but he forced you to look at him.

“But you however. You’ve had a crush on me since way before.”

“I got over it,” you said defensively even though it was true. If the spark was rekindled that one night, it had morphed from a strinking lightning bolt into a raging wildfire. “But that night… yeah, something changed.”

“So, can we keep going?”

“I think we should rather start over. I think I missed a few of my cues.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, leaning back against the door, tilting your chin with the other hand. “Like what?”

“Come and find out.”

His face inched closer to yours.

“Come on, beautiful, just tell me.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing your lips again. But as quickly as he had started, he broke the kiss. You grabbed the lower part of his shirt, gently pulling him towards you.

“I forgot to kiss you back,” you whispered before kissing him for the first time.

[thought--bubble]

She Brings The Darkness Pt. 2/2

Michael Gavey X (Goth Classmate Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1869

She Brings The Darkness Masterlist

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

A/N: This was the winner of the 300 followers vote! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy! It was fun to see what you all wanted more of. Plus my bad for not getting this out before starting the next vote LMAO the timing was weird.

This is the sequel to THIS

Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected PinV Sex, Oral female Receiving. a little bit subby Michael, Whining Michael, Whimpering Michael.

Since your little rendezvous in the library, things had gone back to normal. You were yet again invisible, and Michael avoided looking at you at all costs.

You fight with yourself constantly. You had wanted Michael to leave you alone. That was the entire point, but now that he was, it was driving you crazy.

You find yourself seeking him out, in the library, the courtyard anywhere, really. Boring holes into the side of his head or back of his head willing him to look at you, yet he never does.

"Why am I like this?" You huff to yourself after yet again staring at Michael as he walked through the courtyard. "I am actually chasing Michael fucking Gavey" You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh.

Yet when your feet start moving again, they follow the path set forth by Michael. You can't seem to stop yourself from seeking him out.

When you round the corner, you smash directly into the cause of your ire.

"Why are you following me?" He asks sharply. "I was under the impression we came to an agreement."

You stare back at him speechless. He's right. What do you even say in this situation?

"I .... I ... ummm, " You scramble for words inside your head, but any sensical excuse seems to allude you.

Michael smirks as you stammer. "You don't want me to leave you alone now, do you?" He steps closer to you and tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your eyes. The eyes that were currently avoiding him.

"Hmmmm... seems I may have you hooked. " He chuckles.

Cockyness doesn't suit him, you think, or maybe it does?

"No. I'm not hooked on anything!" You protest with a little too much enthusiasm.

He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "I've seen you outside of my dorm. Clearly, you know where it is. Meet me there tonight." Michael turns from you and walks away quickly out of sight as you stand there bewildered.

What the fuck just happened?

Michael walks away from you with a cocky stride, yet the moment he is out of view, he wipes his palms on his trousers and shudders.

"What am I to do if she actually shows up?"

The whole thing was his brother's idea. He had called him explaining what had happened between the two of you in the library and your subsequent behavior.

"She wants the dick Michael" His brother had said while laughing. "Give it to her."

It all seemed so easy when talking about it jovially on the phone but actually going through with it? That is an entirely different matter.

Michael was no virgin, thanks to the kindness of a sweet girl at his secondary school who wanted to get back at her cheating boyfriend, but he was far from experienced.

He had gone out and purchased condoms. Cleaned his dormroom and knew his roommate would be out tonight.

Everything is in place. Now he just has to wait and see if you actually show up.

Back in your dorm, you are in turmoil. Do you go?

You decide to go and convince yourself it is for one reason. To get the power back. Somehow, the power has shifted to Michael, and you can't have that.

So you rummage around your closet. The outfit needs to be sexier than last time. You don't want him to sweat, you want him to pass the fuck out. Forget maths. Something extreme. Something to tip the power back into your hands.

You pull out a red and black pleated miniskirt to match the red lacey bra and thong you already chose. With a silky red corset top.

This should do it. You choose a pair of black fishnet thigh highs with little red bows on the bands and strap up your docs.

You fix yourself up in the mirror and giggle, "Michael Gavey prepare to grovel."

You arrive outside his dorm room and stop at the door.

"Knock." You tell yourself, yet your hand doesn't move. "Fuckin knock!"

The door opens, and Michael looks at you with a curious expression and a half smile. "Having trouble then?" He opens the door wider to let you in.

You grit your teeth. Embarrassing yourself before you even stepped foot in the room was not part of the game plan.

"Michael." You turn to look at him attempting to put on your most seductive face.

He falters briefly, swallowing loudly before righting himself and falling back into the cocky boy persona.

It's a battle of wills.

"So why did you want me to come here?" You play with the collar of his shirt, bringing your fingers dangerously close to his neck. You can see the goosebumps cross his skin, but he plays it off so well.

"So we can discuss the ....... situation we have going on. " You cringe as he uses the same words you used in the library. This is as much a game of wits as it is wills, and you may be outmatched.

When he looks at you with another cocky smirk, a smirk that says, "I win." You decided to go with your last move. Your fatality move.

You move toward Michael, quickly wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards yours, kissing him harshly. He freezes for just a moment before he starts to kiss you back, the mashing of tongues and lips messy and arousing.

This was not the plan. It was better than the plan. You push him back by the shoulders toward his bed. You know if you get him on that bed with you on top, you have him. He will melt just like last time.

He allows you to push him back on the bed, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you down with him. Your lips staying connected.

You crawl up onto him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips. He pulls back briefly and chuckles before gripping your back tightly and rolling you both over, pinning you beneath him.

"Not this time" He growls before he bites into your neck pressing his hardening cock up against your heat only his trousers and your thong separating the two.

You gasp as you feel his teeth tugging at the sensitive skin of your neck, ripples of pleasure traveling down your spine.

"Fuck Michael" You moan the words overwhelmed by the shock of his aggression and the pleasure he is making you feel.

"I got more," He mumbles as he starts kissing down onto your chest, unclasping the hooks on the corset. He gazes down at your half-naked form with a gleam in his eye. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those baggy clothes"

As he makes his way down to your skirt, you lift up your hips. "No, this we are gonna keep on." He pushes your hips back down onto the bed and pushes your skirt up.

You feel heat pooling in your stomach, traveling down to your core. How are you this turned on by Michael fucking Gavey?

He pushes your thighs apart and looks at your cunt. "Fucking brilliant" Is all he says before he shoves his head between your legs pulling your thong to the side and lapping directly at your clit.

"Oh fuck!" You whine at the sudden sensation.

He reacts to your whines with moans of his own as he continues to lick and suck at your pearl. Your hands travel down to his head gripping his hair and rutting your pussy against his face.

It feels too good and you need more pressure. You're sure you are suffocating him, but you don't care.

"Just like that, just like that." You whimper your legs, clamping around his head. "Fuck, right there, right there!" You arch your back as your climax tears through you, Michael continuing to lap at your folds as you ride out your high.

"Too much, too much." You whine afterward, pushing his head away.

He stands up a little dazed, face glistening with the proof of your arousal.

"Come here." You gesture for him to again join you on the bed, and he quickly obliges, crawling onto your body and slotting himself between your thighs.

When he brings his lips back down upon yours, you can taste yourself, and it only serves to increase your arousal. "Take those off," you whisper, tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He quickly shuffles them off before turning to pull a box of condoms out of his bedside drawer.

"I'm clean and on birth control." You pull him back towards you. "Let me feel you."

He speechlessly nods at you, eyes half lidded, like he's in a trance.

You spread your legs wider for him.

"Fuck I... I really didn't expect it to get this far" he mutters more to himself than to you.

You can't help but giggle before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards you. "Hurry up and fuck me Michael Gavey"

"uhhh .... yeah..... fuck yeah" He leans forward again nipping at the skin of your neck before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance.

"Fucccccccck," He moans as he starts to push into you, feeling the warmth and wetness surround him.

You grip his hips, pulling him forward, digging your nails into his soft, tender flesh.

"I said fuck me Michael." You growl biting down harshly on his bottom lip.

"Yes," He whimpers as he starts to rut into you, quickening his pace. "So good... so good, " He mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You feel the heat start to pool in the base of your stomach and dig your nails into his back. "Harder Michael" You demand.

He ruts into you harder and whines. "Oh god, oh god"

You feel him batter the spongey spot inside of you and arch your back, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. "Faster"

"Oh shit, oh shit." He moves faster, and his legs start to tremble at the sheer force he is using. "I'm not gonna make it, fuck I-" He groans loudly. "Oh God"

"Not yet, Michael. Don't you dare." You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder. "You cum when I say so"

He nods furiously. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He pants heavily and whines into the crook of your neck.

You clench your legs tightly around him as you are overcome by your climax. "Fuckkkk, good boy!"

"Please, please." He pants and whimpers.

"Just a little longer." You pull his face towards you and gently kiss him as he whimpers into your mouth. You smile at the thought that you were able to get the power back.

"Cum Michael, you can cum now"

He yells out as he grips your hips tightly rutting into you roughly a few more times before his entire body stiffens and he gasps. "Thank you, Thank you"

He collapses on top of you resting his forehead against your chest, as you stroke his hair.

"Shhh Michael, shh," you coo as he pants into your chest.

"You're mine now"

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[cyborgartalchemist2]

Imagine being so fucking aggressive about a ship you make jokes about Magneto and that very groomer scene from X-Men 97 that just... excuse the behavior? Because that doesn't sound very progressive in my opinion. Like yeah... rape culture in relationships just permeats fucking shipping but lets do nothing to argue against it. Lets make jokes that perpetuate the behavior and excuse men taking advantage of women.

To me having Magneto take advantage of a much younger mutant under his tutelage because she's desperate for physical connection and he's the only one she can touch is meant to showcase A) how Gambit contrasts Magneto and B) remind us that Magneto is never above using mutants for his own gains.

If this were reality most people would be calling Magneto a groomer and worse. We know Rogue was still a teen when Mystique took her in. We know that she's been an X-man for a few years. So Magneto was patient enough to wait until she turned 18?

Historically he hasn't done well with his love life. Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver's mom left him without telling him he fathered children because she was scared of him! (I'm only going on TAS and 97 here since this is an adaptation.) So where in the high heavens does everyome think he would be good for Rogue?

I don't care about the 'better than Remy' arguments because that's not the point! The point of who you ship Rogue with should be about if it's a relationship that is good for her! Is she their equal? Does she get treated with respect? Magneto looked at the Genosha council and without asking Rogue said "I'll lead but only if this woman I am trying to get back is my queen". LIKE DOES THAT EVEN SOUND MATURE? Magneto shows up, sees Gambit and Rogue being even mildly affectionate and starts pulling asshole moves on Rogue. And the narrative did nothing to make Rogue stand up for herself (which she would have) she should have told Erik "I'm a big girl I can get my own sugar for my coffee." She is shown numerous times to remind everyone she is no one's 'territory'.

Also wish to address the fact that making Rogue x Magneto comes with a 'sex is the only thing that matters!' Flavor that is exactly what so many of us are tired of in shipping. When did shipping stop being about the drama of a couple fighting against a narrative that pushes them apart or about finding love in the most unconventional of places, like alien hunting? And become solely about how nasty they can fuck? Seriously?

AND it's so blandly hetero it's not even funny. Because honestly the ways in which a couple can experience pleasure that don't involve traditional p in v penetration is vast and wild and there are enough types of gear and costumes and the like to facilitate that between Rogue and Gambit. Because that's all the argument has to stand on, is which man can fulfill her sexual needs. WHICH SHE HERSELF REALIZED WASN'T ENOUGH. She kisses Erik and goes "nope they're ain't any sparks there. This isn't going to be fulfilling ever."

Not to mention the fact that I can't genuinely see Magneto offering to die for Rogue. Sorry that grandstanding in Genosha was not the same. It was barely a heroic move... he still didn't save the Morlocks he promised to protect... he still failed. He couldn't save Leech and he couldn't stop the Sentinel either. Because yeah Magneto attempted to save Rogue and Gambit, but he did nothing to save the Morlocks at his side and he also survived without taking out the giant killer robot... but Gambit? Gambit said fuck it, gonna take this motherfucker to hell with me. He stopped Rogue from facing the sentinel so he could. And he actually stopped it. All on his own. Because that's what an x-man would do. Sure Magneto protectdd two people but sacrificed the morlocks yet again...

AND ON THE SUBJECT OF ROGUE x GAMBIT

Has Gambit always been great with Rogue? No, but that was the 90s and now look at how he handles shit? Comics writing has grown. It was a lot more heternormative and still had lots of rape culture hold overs in it.

Look at the episode when Cody shows up. He uses Rogue's connection to him from the past and then puts her in a situation that almost takes away her humanity. Her powers, which was what lured her into this trap in the first place, saved her from a man taking advantage of her. And the one time Gambit (in TAS) takes advantage of her, Morph in her form, told him to come and get some from her first. (So while he should have paused and woke Rogue up before kissing her, he had what he thought was an invitation.)

Gambit takes Rogue's decision to rule Genosha with Magneto incredibly well. He doesn't get mad, he doesn't call Rogue names, he doesn't do anyhting to hurt Rogue the way she is hurting him. He accepts it like a gentleman. Unlike Magneto who pursued Rogue's affections in unhealthy ways.

So uh... yeah that's my fucking rant.