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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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Lovely Josie! Can I request a Frankie piece? Where reader is part of the friend group and really into Frankie. She knows he's also into her but just typical insecure Frankie. So she flirts with him and tries to seduce him every chance she gets until one day she's had enough and really goes for it. And if course Frankie likes it 😇 Merci!

Spicy-Sweet (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

summary: ^^

W/C: 4.3K

Warnings: lots of talk of alcohol, food, god Frankie’s an idiot but a cute one, so much pining and flirting, implied age gap and Frankie’s insecure over it, Frankie has a brief and mild anxiety attack but is comforted

A/N: this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Bucky- that was what the men called you. When you’d first joined the group of men, it’d been as Pope’s friend, a shock to all of them; you weren’t sleeping together, weren’t sneaking around. Just friends. That threw them for a loop. You were always at his side, his right-hand wing-woman. Frankie had been a little put off at first that he’d been replaced, but he grew to like you just as much as the other men. That’s how you’d earned Bucky: Cap’s sidekick, Pope’s sidekick.

When you finally bonded with the rest of them, became friends with them, you were less Pope’s sidekick and more yourself. You grew to love the men for different things. Benny was always there to cheer you up, full of bad jokes and energy. He’d take you out when a date stood you up, buy you a beer on your shittiest days. Will Miller was a shoulder to cry on. He was smart, strong, emotionally intelligent. Wise beyond his years, Ironhead always had the best advice for you. Pope was the partier, and was the one who got things done. Organizing plans was his forte. He loved getting the group together to hang out, and was the only one who could rally the group.

Frankie was all of that and more. Everything. Frankie had caught your eye the moment Pope introduced you to the men. Frankie was the quietest, even quieter than Will. He never enjoyed the spotlight, especially when you were new, but he loved making his friends laugh. He was comforting and helpful, lending you a jacket or helping you with a manual labor task you couldn’t quite get.

Frankie is the one you have a crush on. All of the men have their attributes, and you have to admit that any of them would make a good boyfriend and surely a good lover, but they are and always have been brotherly first. Frankie was something different. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, wanted to kiss the bald patch on his jaw and steal his Hawaiian shirts. You tease him endlessly to hide your feelings, though never in a mean way at all. Always soft and joking, always reciprocated by the teddy bear of a man.

You were the same to him; the first time he saw you, he thought he wanted to marry you someday. He loves your laugh and your humor, loves the way you nudge his side and even though it’s a little painful, wants you to do it again just so he can feel your body touching his. He loves how you can hold court over the men with your stories, can get them to agree on the most divisive of issues. He’d even proposed once that you become Cap, not Bucky. You were clearly a leader. But Santiago brushed it off by saying that Bucky was getting his own show now, so he’s just fine, and besides pendejo, you can’t change a nickname once it's been given.

Emotionally constipated Frankie is just fine to sit to the sidelines. If he has one principle with love and friends, it’s that he’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. That’s why he doesn’t necessarily openly flirt with you, why he suppresses his feelings until it’s late at night and he’s alone and can daydream about your pretty face and tight jeans and the crinkle of your nose when you smile.

You’re different. You wear that green shirt you know Frankie always ogles you in when it’s a night out. You buy him a drink or two. You insist he dance with you, take him on errands with you on a Saturday morning. You can read the man; you’re pretty damn sure he likes you too, but you don’t want to ruin it. Rushing him is the last thing on your mind.

As you wander through the farmer’s market on a spring Sunday morning, you shiver as the breeze rushes past your bare arms. Frankie doesn’t notice; he’s too busy admiring a booth selling hot honey. You can’t help but laugh as he delightedly samples a spoon of the syrupy-sweet-spicy product, and turns to you with wide eyes. “Bucky, you gotta try this,” he insists, handing you a sample spoon.

Nodding, you give in and taste it. The flavor on your tongue reminds you of Frankie if he were a flavor: a little spicy, but more of a warm feeling. Infinitely sticky-sweet, floral and tasting of sunshine. There’s heat, just a little, enough to awaken your tastebuds and mingle with the honey perfectly. “That’s good shit. How much is it?” You ask the vendor.

A few minutes later, you walk away with two bottles. You hand one to Frankie. “Here. This is for you,” you tell him with an earnest smile.

Frankie’s brows slide together beneath the brim of his favorite ball cap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you shrug and pat his cheek, your path curving to the right as you approach a bakery stall.

The morning is sunny and just slightly cold, making you shiver every so often. Sweet Frankie walks dutifully at your side like the dogs and their owners similarly strolling the tent-lined sidewalk. His eyes light up as he sees breads and flowers, homemade jerky and beautiful jewelry. The variety is exciting, and you often hear Frankie shouting for you from a new booth.

While you admire the jewelry made of local stones, something warm and soft covers your shoulders. You look down to find that it’s Frankie’s suede brown jacket. “You looked cold,” he tells you and turns a little pink before patting your shoulder and wandering off.

At the end of the day, you have a full reusable bag, brimming with goodies: a small bright bouquet, two loaves of bread, cookies, fresh berries, and a bottle of hot honey. Frankie’s is similarly stuffed, though it’s with much more unhealthy choices. The two of you sit on a grassy hill, munching on a pack of thumbprint cookies Frankie purchased.

The morning sun is just starting to warm up, but the jacket you’re now wearing is cozy. You lean your head on Frankie’s shoulder as the two of you rest there without words, lost in your own thoughts.

God, he’s so cute. So sweet. A little stupid. Just how I like them. Is my flirting not obvious enough to him? You wonder internally.

Frankie’s thoughts are similar but different. She’s so sweet. She’s so nice to me. I wonder if she’d ever like me like that.

Partying is Pope’s favorite pastime. The man enjoys getting shitfaced and taking a similarly drunk date home. Lord knows what they do; you’re glad you don’t. That leaves you and the Millers and Frankie. You and Benny dance and sing karaoke, twirling and shouting the lyrics to the song blasting in the bar. Frankie and Will sit on the sidelines.

That’s exactly where tonight has found you. A surprisingly sober Pope has gone home with a pretty girl he flirted with briefly before she tugged him by the jacket sleeve. He shot a look of excitement at the four of you before leaving.

Now, Benny requested his favorite song through the pay-per-tune machine in the corner. You’d squealed and dragged him out, dancing with him on the wooden floor the bar provides. Frankie can’t help but think the two of you would make a good couple. The two of you are full of sarcasm and energy at most times, around the same age. Frankie’s a bit older, and he can’t help but think that it would be weird for you, that it would prevent him from liking you. If only he knew.

Benny does, actually. He’s annoyed that your group doesn’t give him enough credit for his smarts. He might be mostly muscle, but he’s packing brains too. He’s great at observing social interactions, and he can especially tell that there’s something between the two of you. He’s learned his best friend like he knows how to drive or what his own phone number is. Benny knows Frankie, and he knows he won’t make the first move for fear of upsetting you. That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to be your blonde, blue eyed Cupid and queued up Frankie’s favorite song next.

You know it’s his favorite song. Of course you do. When it comes on, you turn to the bar with wide eyes and wave to catch Frankie’s attention, then wave him over. Benny says something or another and wanders off. It takes some nonverbal persuading, some pleading eyes and pouting to the man, but Frankie eventually adjusts his jeans and gets up, leaving that suede jacket behind on his barstool.

“It’s your song!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around him, starting to dance along with him. He moves back with you, though nowhere near as fluid or free.

He shakes his head but smiles, and you flick the brim of his cap. “Oh come on, you love this song. Don’t be such a dope,” you tease and grab his hips, forcing him to move them a little more than the stiff motions he’s making.

“I am a dope,” he mumbles and you roll your eyes, moving in a way that invites Frankie to move back against it. It’s a two-person dance, and you’re starting to get him moving.

Chuckling, you look up at him. “You ever seen Footloose?” you ask him.

He blows a raspberry into the air, laughing. “Of course I have. It’s my favorite movie.”

“Then how come you can’t dance?” You tease.

Frankie makes a noise of mock-injury, clutching his chest. “Damn, Bucky. Right in the heart.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. “I was going to say that you remind me of Willard. I guess that’s fitting though. You can’t dance.”

His scent is the only thing you can think about, the way his cologne is spicy and sweet on his flushed skin, warm from having you in such close proximity. “Does that make Pope Ren?”

“And it makes me whatever the girl who dates Willard is named,” you shamelessly flirt, swaying him to the side as the song changes in keys.

If there was anything in Frankie’s mouth right now, he’d be choking. Maybe it’s just because you’re dancing together, he rationalizes. Maybe it’s just because you wouldn’t want to date Pope. It can’t be because you like him. That’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. “Ha. Sure,” he shakes his head, taking off his cap and teasingly placing it backwards on your head.

It’s loose on your head, and you laugh as you look up at him. Frankie has that feeling again in his gut: he’s going to marry you someday. It can’t be the alcohol, not in either of you. You’ve both only had a drink each. No, in this moment he realizes the depth of how bad he wants you, but he cannot comprehend that you want him too. There’s no way you could ever love a man like Francisco Morales, he tells himself. But he wants you to. He aches for you to.

The song ends and the ache only grows. Frankie is not a dancer. This is his time to retire to the barstool. “Well, thank you for holding my hat,” he teases you and steals it back, putting it on himself and patting your side before wandering back to his spot next to Will.

You frown, but then Benny finds you again and the energy returns somewhat. You long to feel Frankie’s arms around you again, to dance with him and whisper jokes next to his ear so that you can feel the way his laugh buzzes in his chest. You consider buying another play of Frankie’s song later, but that would be suspicious. You’ll have to find another way, but you have to do it soon; you’re not sure how much longer you can last before you combust from not getting to kiss his soft lips, to feel his scruff beneath your fingertips as you cup his face and finally close the gap between the two of you.

Frankie is much too old for parties. He’d decided that even a few years ago now, that that sort of thing was best left to the young bucks who could drink endlessly and awaken with only a mild headache. How the hell Benny had talked him into attending this party, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that you’d be there and that was enough for him.

You’re not a big partier either; you can get wild, but only around your friends, usually only with Benny there to egg you on and hand you shot after shot. You don’t particularly like getting drunk, just enough alcohol to make things a bit lighter. Benny and Santiago were the ones who’d insisted you and Frankie come along to this party a mutual friend of theirs is hosting.

Of course, the boys wanted you two there but had failed to mention they were each bringing dates. When you wandered in with Benny and a girl flung herself onto him, peppering his blonde stubble with kisses, you’d quickly learned that you weren’t going to get a good night with your favorite guys. Santiago was similarly taken, a girl draped across his lap in a busy living room, each of them holding a drink. He’d given you a two-finger salute as you wandered to the kitchen, kind of annoyed.

You’d dressed a little nicer, though nothing too special, and you immediately hoped at least Frankie and Will would be around tonight to hang out with. Will’s not a big partier, though he’s a little more social than you and Frankie. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your face falls as you read the text.

Ironhead: sorry guys. Not gonna make it out tonight.

He provides no explanation why; Will never does. You know better than to question it. Your only hope now is that Frankie doesn’t blow you off.

Frankie could never. The promise of you being at the party was enough for him to meticulously shave and spray that cologne he knows you love on his flannel, which you’ll surely ask for because you’re always cold. He’s not here yet, so you lean against the kitchen counter and crack open a hard seltzer as you look around. Bringing your drink with you, you hit the bathroom and when you return, there’s a familiar ball cap poking above the crowd, labeled with Standard Heating & Oil. Frankie.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the cap from his head and put it on yourself. “Hey, pilot,” you sing as he turns and his face lights up to see you. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, leaving an indent in those curls from where the cap was.

“Goddamnit, Buck,” he laughs and tries to steal it back, but you dodge out of the way.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight, flyboy,” you sigh as you prop an elbow on his shoulder and look around, finding Benny and his girl making out on the dance floor and Santiago playing with a woman’s hair on the couch.

Frankie has to admit he’s okay with that. “They didn’t tell me they’d be bringing dates,” you grumble. Frankie holds back a chuckle. This was most definitely planned, Wingman Benny embracing his role in forcing the two of you together. Frankie couldn’t say he was too upset about it, in all honesty. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” you shake your head and grab Frankie by the bicep, trying not to shiver at how muscular his arms are.

In the kitchen, you toy with the hem of his shirt as he mixes himself an old fashioned from the vast cocktail bar. “I love this one,” you murmur absentmindedly, admiring the worn fabric and the ripping seams at the hem. It’s so perfectly Frankie: an old black Fleetwood Mac shirt, nearly falling apart. There are holes in the hems and under the left armpit but it always smells sweet and spicy, just like him, and feels like a security blanket. “Looks good on you.”

“Looks like a piece of shit. I need to just throw it out, but I can’t bring myself to,” he chuckles as he finally takes a sip of his drink. He knows the reason he can’t: you love it too much.

“Good,” you nod and set down your hard seltzer, making yourself a drink.

“What you got there?” he asks as he watches you stir up a concoction.

“Essentially the same as you. Old fashioned but with Fireball instead of regular whiskey.”

“You seem to like the spicy-sweet thing, don’t you?” he teases.

God, if only he knew. “Spicy-sweet, just like someone else I know,” you tease him and nudge your shoulder with his. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Frankie’s heart does several backflips in a row, complete with a roundoff and a cartwheel. He’d earn the gold in the Olympics, the way his heart tumbles and turns in his chest. “Ha,” he laughs dryly, looking down at his own drink, swishing it and watching the ultra-sweet cherry spin through the dark liquid.

The music gets louder from the other room as you and Frankie drink in silence, both of you leaning against the kitchen counter as the amount of alcohol per cup steadily decreases. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Pope,” Frankie finally speaks over the loudening noise, nodding to the living room where everyone is clustered.

“Sure,” you call back, even though he’s just a few feet from you.

It’s practically a maze, trying to find his way through the people. They’re all moving and bouncing, the sound overwhelming him. It’s like a goddamn mosh pit, he thinks, or how it must feel to be buried inside one. How did this party become something like this, and why the hell is he here? Frankie wanders through, getting turned around as the group moves and sways.

His breathing gets heavier, and suddenly Frankie feels suffocated. His primary objective no longer is finding Pope, it’s getting the fuck out of here before this herd stampedes him to death. He feels pathetic and small, like a single fish in a giant school wandering through an abysmally deep sea.

When the tide loosens its hold, when Frankie sees a path, he takes it out. He’s not sure how long he was trapped in there- 20 seconds, a minute, five minutes, but he’s overwhelmed and his head is spinning, his drink somehow gone and lost in the shuffle.

You see him stumble out, looking terrified, and rush over. “Hey, hey, Frankie,” you murmur as you grab his forearms. “Are you okay? Did you find Pope?” You ask, your thumbs tracing over his pulsing veins.

He shakes his head, and you take it as a no for both. “Okay, come on, did you drive here? Is your truck out there?”

He nods and grabs his keys, putting them in your hand. “Alright, pilot, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” You stick the hat back on his head and hope it could maybe bring a sense of normalcy back to him.

Frankie’s head feels like radio static as you bring him to the truck, unlocking it and sliding in first across the bench seat. He follows in after you and closes the door, and he turns the air conditioning on full-blast, feeling desperately hot.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me,” you beg of him, cupping the side of his face with one hand. You shiver under the quick breeze of the vents, the cold air immediately filling the cab of his truck. “What happened?” You ask, just above a whisper, fingers tracing the stubble of his jaw.

His eyes are getting more normal, less panicked and more sane. He must’ve had some kind of anxiety or PTSD moment in the crowd. “Just… thought I was gonna get crushed,” he murmurs, not looking at you.

“Frankie. Let’s breathe together, okay? Look at me.” His eyes find yours and you smile. “Good. Follow me.”

You ground him nearly instantly, your chilled skin under his hands as he grips your upper arms, your soft lips parting to breathe in and out. The flutter of your eyelashes when you close those beautiful eyes, the one that have such a distinct unique color. He would kiss you right now if he had the courage.

He breathes along with you and is calm enough by the second breath to think rationally again. The wave has passed, leaving his body feeling tired and limp. “I-I’m good,” he assures you, tracing his fingers across your skin. “Bucky, you’re freezing.”

“Frankie,” you give a sad chuckle. “I’m supposed to be calming you, and-“

“I’m super hot, please, take this,” he says as he shucks his flannel and hands it to you. “It would help me,” he says simply, enjoying the way the air conditioning more directly contacts his skin without it on.

“Well, okay,” you laugh and slip it on, breathing in the warm scent that is Frankie and sighing contentedly. “See? I love the sweet and spicy thing, like your cologne.”

He shakes his head and looks away. “Oh, stop. You don’t mean that.”

You frown at him. “Frankie. You’re thinking straight again, right?”

He nods.

“Then how aren’t you processing how in love with you I am?” You ask with a soft laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “I flirt with you endlessly, and it feels like you never pick up on it. So now I’m just going to say it: I like you, Frankie.”

Biting his lip, Frankie looks down at you with slight confusion. “Really?”

You laugh incredulously, burying your face in his neck. “Yes, Frankie, really. I like you a lot. I have since the moment I met you. And I’d like to think you like me too.”

There’s a beat of silence and he nods, taking one of your hands in his and lacing the fingers together. “I really like you too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met, Buck,” he admits, wide brown eyes looking down at you with all of the love in his massive heart. “I just… didn’t want to assume anything. You’re so good to me, but you’re so good to the other guys too.”

“Do I buy the other men bottles of hot honey? Have I ever brought a date around like the other guys do?” You ask, lovingly and hoping he sees your point. “I’ve been pining for you for so long, Morales. I just want you to get it through your thick skull that I care for you and I’ve been in love with you for quite a while.”

“I feel stupid,” he mumbles, ears turning pink at the tips. “It was pretty obvious. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” you assure him and squeeze his fingers. “I personally think it’s fucking adorable that you didn’t want to assume that. I like that, that you didn’t want to do anything first without knowing the same about you. I like all of you, Frankie, from that scruffy beard to these cozy flannels you always let me borrow.”

His heart melts in his chest, reducing him to a puddle. “Then I guess I should ask if you’d be my girl.”

His girl? If you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, you were wrong. You can’t hold back any longer and you swing your leg across his lap, straddling him in the bench seat of his truck. “Can I kiss you, Frankie?” You ask, gently removing his cap and setting it aside.

“God, yes please,” he practically whines as he cups your face in both of his big hands, kissing you deeply and breathing out heavily through his nose.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, Frankie’s body pressed to yours as your lips meet. You both taste that perfect spicy-sweet flavor, the way that’s so Frankie in your head. This might be the sweetest and softest man alive, you think to yourself, and goddamn, you’re lucky, Bucky.

His body radiates the heat of his love and stress and everything, completely melting into yours. You’re never going to stop doing this now that you’ve started. You’re never going a day without holding Frankie like this.

Your legs are firmly planted on either side of him, and Frankie moves his hands to grip your waist and pull you in closer. Shivering at the way he practically manhandles you, you moan into his lips, murmuring his name breathlessly. It’s like the most perfect melody, the way you say it. He mumbles your name back, your real name. Not Bucky.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself tight against him, running one hand through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He tastes like heaven, just as perfect as you’ve dreamed about for as long as you’ve known him. When you break away, you smile softly, admiring the way he’s panting beneath you. His head is tilted back to look at you on top of him, his eyes glazed over and cheeks warmed with pounding blood. You gulp and trace the side of his face with feather-light fingertips, admiring his beauty. “God, Francisco,” you murmur. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

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Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

#this is vile im sorry #tw: ff #tw: misogyny #.dl #yan.txt #q

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kiwi-the-first · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Lover In The Parsec

Oneshot

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars/The Mandalorian

CW: Fluff oh gods so much fluff, *slaps roof of the fic* this baby can fit so much yearning in it! Salt bae angst action, guest appearance of one(1) line of having the word "making love" and including one corny joke.

TW: mention of near death experience,self loathing,body image issues,canon-typical violence.

A/N: I keep mentioning it, this is my first piece of fanfiction writing. So I really really hope you guys like it. I am scared shitless. Never thought I'd ever write this but 2020 said fuck it you're writing fanfics now. Special thanks all of my writer friends for encouraging,helping and inspiring me everyday into making this happen. Iysm!

Enjoy!

- Kiwi

Masterlist

You.

He didn't know what to do with you.

He couldn't explain what you made him feel.

He couldn't explain how you made him feel.

But he knew the answers, he knew the words to describe it. He knew the scent of you and the dreamy sigh that escapes him everytime,he enters the fresher after your shower.

He knew the sound of your voice and how it soothes his longing soul and fills in for the silence of the crest, or "home" as you liked to call it.

How he instantly melted after hearing you speak his name for the first time.

You knew it was sacred due to his creed but he had insisted that he trusted you well enough to tell you.

“Din Djarin?” you asked and he nodded.

“What a beautiful name” you smiled.

He breathing hitched and swore to the Mythosaur he never saw anything as pure as that. Well maybe the kid but he was your foundling so of course.

You two are the most precious purposes to him.

Your eyes, so beautiful that he couldn't stop looking at them, a colour picked by nature itself and poured in by artists. Filled with a cacophony of emotions he willingly drowned into.

He knew the curves and nicks of your body.

You trusted him,let him be near you and patch you up when needed. He knows your loathing regarding it,knows the borderline ambiguity and acceptance you have towards loving yourself.

He knows how you confine yourself in the mere image of a fighter.

He knows it well because he does it too. Still he thinks that you manage to be kinder than he could ever be.

You. He keeps falling for you. Deeper and deeper in an infinite pit of ecstasy that most would call love.

You're all on his mind lately. Still he doesn't know what to do.

He knew your actions.

He knew how you fight, how you patch him up,how you show your affection in silent gestures. Ways you cradle the kid and play little games with him but also scold him when it’s needed. The way his chest tightens with that one particular feeling, seeing the two of you like that.

The three of you are safe,laughing just enjoying each other’s presence and looking like a perfect family,an aliit.

Everytime he associates the word with you two he feels a wave of calmness crash over him.

But he’d be lying if it also didn’t make him want to be disintegrated by his own pulse rifle. It was too much how you constantly took care of the two of them.

How you silently admire him when you think he's looking at the stars. When in reality he's looking at you.

He’s always looking at you, looking out for you two.

But do you feel it too? He doesn't have the courage to ask.

He never did. He'd die a thousand different deaths as a coward than be left alone without you beside him.

Your soul, the purest most perfect thing to him deserves someone better. That is what he constantly told himself.

He never intended to be vulnerable with a stranger yet there you were and here he was. But only you weren't a stranger,not anymore.

If he hadn't known any better he would go as far as calling you his soulmate. Silly it may seem.

A big,bad Mandalorian bounty hunter believing in soulmates, but it was the truth.

You're the one holding his heart. But still he doesn't know what to do.

But then it changed, years of travelling together and months on the run raising the little green bean whom you both love and protect with your entirety. Maybe this was where it all ended.

He has been in bad situations before, true. But death was something he never thought he'd have to possibly greet in front of you.

He first noticed your eyes, all the other emotions were set aside as they made room for fear and hopelessness of losing him. Your pretty lips that he always craved to kiss were trembling as you held him close to you.

One hand holding his as tightly as possible while the other cradled under his neck.

He knew he should've told you, he wanted to, desperately. But surely, he couldn't do it now...right? You didn't deserve a last moment declaration of love but lose said lover and live in vain for the rest of your life.

But the maker played him again. Surprise!surprise! He didn’t die.

After the chaos and dangers were all done, the three of you left Nevarro, and the crest jumped into hyperspace he started to prepare himself.

You barely spoke to him as you were down in the hull with the kid.

After you tucked in the kid in the sleeping compartment and came to the cockpit to sit down he started preparing.

He didn't know how much time had passed but he was still silent and...well he scoffed at himself, still ‘’preparing’’.

But suddenly you got up from your seat, fumbling a little, clearly trying to say something.

"I need to talk to you" his entire body froze.

Whatever it was, it scared him. He felt nauseous all of a sudden.

"...about today".

Oh, his anxiety got the best of him. He was always the rusher and in the moment of weakness he couldn't control himself.

"Mando I think you shou-"

"I'm in love with you" he felt his voice slightly crack.

You blinked once,twice, mouth slightly agape. Tears started pooling in your eyes…

Shit shit shit shit it wasn't supposed to happen like this!!!

You were probably telling him how you'd much rather be without him and be safe far away from him and he fucked it all up.

Again he was gonna ruin something because he had no self restraint.

He was confused when you lurched your body to his chest, hugged him tightly and started sobbing.

Was this normal? When a person wants to leave you they don't do thi-

He heard your shaky voice let out a breath and then a

"I love you too"

Huh?

Oh-

OH!

He could faint right now. He could die and be alive again. If someone told him to befriend a jedi right now he would.

It took him a while to process your words,probably because of that brain injury IG informed him about, he thought to himself.

He was irrevocably happy.

Just...happy...and sated, but he also felt like someone ran over him with a mudhorn.

You loved him. You loved him.

You loved him back.

You-

He looks down at you. Sleeping silently curled up against him, holding him close.

This has been like that ever since.

Ever since you both declared that all those touches were indeed electrocuting,that all those late night heart-to-hearts weren't just conversations to pass the time,how he longed to take your hands in his.

Or how you wanted to take off his kriffing helmet so that you could see his eyes and what they hid, or kiss his lips yet you resisted.

It’s been a while, he thinks.

Since you settled down for your happy ending...or was it a beginning? He likes to think it's a little bit of both.

It was something he'd never thought he'd have. Since you learnt that the kid’s people were gone. Since the kid truly became your own in every sense.

But frankly if he was being honest Din didn’t ever want to give him away and neither did you. Your son,your Ad’ika. You now had the privilege to call him that with the permission from The Armorer.

Since your Riduurok.

Since he was allowed to take off his helmet and finally, you finally got to let your emotions run free.

To finally see his face and hold him close. To feel his lips and his warmth.

The memory of your tears of unsung victory and joy still elevates his heartbeat.

Since you had made love and you laughed at his messed up curls in the morning after.

"Thanks for letting me in" you kissed his knuckles and he sighed contently.

"You did too" you furrowed your brows "I-"

"Literally" he winked, "oh? waiT YOU- EWW!!!" he was laughing hard as he dodged the pillow you threw at him.

"And to think! Your'e a responsible father!"

"Make a pervy joke again and I'll murder you" you grumbled. You kept laughing in each other's arms as he held you close

He still chuckles at the memory.

Now baby didn’t mind having a stable life with his buirs either.

You sighed in your sleep. The morning lights were seeping in through the slightly opened windows.

Sunbeams slowly making their ways into the room and enveloping your bodies.

Your eyes crinkled in your sleep and you mumbled something and cuddling closer to him, if that were possible.

The kid will be up soon too and the thought alone makes him smile.

Yet another day with the two of you.

It was a free day for both of you and between your magnificent existence and snorting at Ad’ika running around,babbling and being the cutest menace. He knew he’d survive.

He looks down at you again and he's reminded of all the things that he loves about you.

Now including how much you also love him. He could feel your heart beat,it is the best genre of music to him.

He felt the warmth again, not from the sunlight but from his infinite loop of affection for you.

“Ner Ali’it” he called you.

He'll bask in this for as long as you'd allow him and gladly, you promised to allow him forever.

He may be the best bounty hunter in the parsec but he never tried to be the best lover.

He simply couldn't!

For that title already had an owner,

You.

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

TAGS: @dindjarindiaries

@spacegayofficial

@lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache

@dindjarinsleftvambrace

@mitchi-c

@the-real-xhorse

@hdlynn

@deafmandalorian

@cheesecake-madness

@duchessnibenhu-ofpyromania

@oloreaa

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queenof-literature · 4 years ago

Text

To Speak

Hi all this is part 8 of my Hero of Wild series

Also, I have a Discord Server for what I write now! If you're interested the link is: https://discord.gg/UpWvDzKC5R

Just a heads up: This story depicts learning to verbally talk again. As with my other stories, this is based on mine and my peers experiences, as many of us have struggled with similar situations.

Thank you guys, I hope you enjoy <3

“L-” The elongated sound shuttered past his lips. Wild practically growled in frustration deep in the back of his throat.

“L-i. L-l-”

“Let’s take a break.” Sky declared gently, slowly standing up and stretching his limbs. Sky allowed himself to breathe in the crisp air, the vivid colors of the sky reflecting the approaching dusk.

His declaration, however, fell onto deaf ears as the boy sitting across from him continued making rough and garbled sounds, only a ghost of what the syllable should have been. He was doing better earlier, and Sky could tell he was getting tired.

“Wild.” Sky chastised, kneeling down once more to face the boy. “Don’t push yourself.”

“L- l- i-” Wild’s voice only grew quicker and more slurred.

“Wild.” Sky demanded slightly louder, feeling a small pang of guilt at the flinch he saw, but grateful the boy was finally out of his own head.

“You need a break.” This time Sky left no room for argument. Wild shook his head, opening his mouth again.

“Yes, Wild.” Wild had never heard the man’s tone so stern before, and his surprise must have shown, because Sky softened his voice once more. “If you push yourself too hard, you’re going to damage your voice further.” Wild looked down at his hands, clenching them together. He refused to allow himself to snap at the man across from him, who had been so kind and had put up with Wild’s shortcomings. Wild clenched his hands once more before raising his hands to sign an apology.

“If you say sorry I swear to Hylia I will get Legend to tie your hands together.” Sky stated in the most deadpan voice Wild had ever heard from the man. “I know that this is slower than you were expecting.” It was as if Sky could read his mind, and the thought almost made Wild shiver. “I was the same way. It took me months before I could talk to others outside my room. But yesterday you couldn’t even pronounce the L sound, and now you’re making it. It will get smoother everyday, but it won’t if you push yourself over the edge and hurt your voice permanently.”

Wild bit his already abused lip, he hadn’t really thought about that…

“Besides.” Sky’s voice was tinged with more cheer, “There’s no rush! We’re all getting better at sign, and you’re making progress. We’ll just work everyday and keep going.” Wild raised his hands, then lowered them once again. He really wanted to say sorry, sorry that Sky had to baby him as Wild dragged him down. However, Wild didn’t really want to see if Sky’s threat was serious or not…

‘Thank you. So much.’ Wild settled for this instead. Thank you for being so patient, for spending hours with Wild every evening the past few days, for never snapping.

“Of course, Wild. You don’t need to thank me twenty times a day.” Sky chuckled at Wild’s annoyed huff. It was not twenty times a day thank you very much. Sky hummed in thought before speaking once again. “Wild, you know I’m fine with us doing this in secret, I know you don’t want others to know.” Wild could feel his stomach turn inside out. Were the others asking about their lessons? Was Sky going to make Wild tell them? “Time trusts us, and he makes sure the others stay away. He doesn’t know.” Sky reassured at Wild’s panicked expression. “I just told him we needed to work together on some things. He probably thinks we’re sparring.” Wild relaxed.

“But… Wild, maybe it would be better if you told someone?” Wild tilted his head in confusion. What would that help? “This is frustrating for you, and I know you’re getting mad at yourself, I did too. Of course I don’t mind listening, but it may help for someone else to know, in case you want to talk about your frustrations with someone else.” Wild thought about Sky’s idea as the man continued on.

The thought of the others knowing scared the shit out of him, if Wild was being honest. It was already embarrassing, and if they found out how long it was taking Wild to even get halfway through saying his own name? Yeah… that wouldn’t go over well. They would know eventually though, Wild doubted he could just wake up one day and start verbally talking about what’s for breakfast and expect everyone to get on board. Maybe he could convince them his lack of speech was a mass hallucination and that he had been talking the entire time? No… that probably wouldn’t work.

Still, maybe Sky was right. He had never pushed Wild too hard, and he was always there. Even if Wild wasn’t that talkative, even when signing, just having someone know what he was going through helped, even just a little.

But who else? So far Wind and Hyrule didn't seem to mind him. Four seemed nice, Legend didn't glare at him anymore like when he first met them, and Wind told Wild that Warriors was a very good listener. Time was definitely not an option, Wild wasn't proud of it, but he still practically ran away when it came to the two of them being alone. Something about the man just set Wild on edge.

One option stuck in Wild's mind though. Twilight.

The man had been infinitely kind to him. Not that the others had been hurtful or awful to him, but something about Twilight was a comfort, a light Wild began to subconsciously seek out. He drifted towards the older Link without thinking on long walks, and he tended to sit nearest to him at the campfire. Even Wolfie had continued to keep him company, although Wild put in more effort to hide his nightmares after his conversation with the man. Wild didn't want Twilight to feel the need to put his secret at risk just to help Wild with something the boy had been dealing with for years anyway. Twilight was just too kind for his own good.

Still… if Sky thought it was a good idea to tell someone else maybe…

'Twilight can know.' Wild forced himself to sign before he over-thought things further.

"That's good, Wild." The boy felt himself relax at Sky's gentle reassurance. "Do you want me to tell him, or do you want to?" As usual, Sky left as many options as he could up to Wild, which the boy found himself thankful for.

As much as Wild wanted to avoid discussing his lessons to the others for the rest of his existence, if he told Twilight he had control over the conversation.

'I will.' Wild decided. 'Thank you.' Wild signed again as an afterthought.

"Twenty-one." Sky's smile turned more into a smirk, and Wild felt his shoulders lift in silent laughter.

Wild guessed this wasn't so bad.

It was only after Wild disappeared into the surrounding treeline that Sky allowed himself to rest his head in his hands, sighing softly. As much as he hoped Wild would tell someone else for the boy’s sake, Sky was secretly hoping he would tell someone just so Sky would have someone to discuss this with.

To say Sky was overwhelmed would be an understatement.

It wasn’t Wild’s fault, the boy was trying his best and Sky didn’t want him to think he was mad at him, it was the exact opposite actually. Sky was mad at himself.

He had vastly underestimated what these lessons would be. Sky didn’t regret offering, not for a minute, especially with the progress Wild was making, no matter how slow it was. Wild was intelligent, Sky could tell that much from the way he jotted down notes of new Hyrules in his notebook. So Sky was sure that as a person who probably picked up new concepts quickly, spending an entire week on sounding out two letters was infuriating.

And Sky couldn’t help, not really. Where Sky’s lack of speech in childhood seemed to stem from a deep rooted mental fear that froze his throat, Wild’s struggles seemed to be parts mental and physical. Sky believed their experiences would be similar enough he could help, but he was wrong. He didn’t understand what Wild had been through, he didn’t understand how the boy’s scars were so old on such a young body, and he didn’t understand how to help him.

He was relying solely on his own experiences. Link was the first word he could say in front of Zelda, so it was the first word he was trying to teach Wild. But would a different word be easier? Did the scars around Wild’s throat prevent him from saying the sounds in his own name? Sky didn’t even know.

Sky had been hoping they would land in a Hyrule that had a marketplace, some sort of bookstore that could give Sky more information. Even if it was about teaching children to speak, maybe it would help, even a little bit. Perhaps the other Links had information, but Wild wanted this to remain a secret and Sky would never betray his trust. Especially not after how hard it was to earn it in the first place. The fact that Wild was even speaking broken sounds in front of Sky spoke volumes about how much trust Sky would be breaking if he went against Wild’s wishes. No, he needed to do this on Wild’s terms. However, if Wild was able to tell Twilight, it’d be nice to have someone else to help the boy.

Sky really hoped Wild told him.

Looking around their newest temporary campsite, Wild was especially grateful that restlessness seemed to be a common trait they all shared, whether it be for something to do with their hands, or exploring the surrounding area. Wild let out a small sigh of relief when he spotted Twilight stoking the campfire. Alone.

Sky once joked that if Wild bit his lip anymore in the past week it would probably start to bleed, but Wild couldn’t help it. Slowly, Wild approached the campfire and awkwardly sat opposite of the man shifting the ashes with a stick.

“Hey, Wild.” Twilight greeted, looking up from the growing flames. “Are you and Sky done with, erm, whatever you guys do?” Wild couldn’t help a small smile at that. He was thankful the others didn’t pry, but watching them dance around the subject was always a little entertaining.

‘For today.’ Wild signed. Twilight opened his mouth, before noticing Wild’s hands were still elevated. He had learned that meant the boy was thinking of his next words carefully, and Twilight always tried to let his thoughts run freely without interruptions. ‘Can I…’ Wild trailed off, and Twilight felt worry pool in his chest. ‘Can I tell you something?’ Wild clenched his hands after he finished, which Twilight was pretty sure was a form of self comfort for the teen.

“Yeah, Wild, of course. Anytime. I assume you want this to stay between us?” Twilight assured, noticing Wild was very quick to nod confirmation to the last part.

‘And Sky.’ Wild signed, and Twilight secretly hoped this was about what Wild and Sky had been doing every evening the past week or so. He never pried, none of the others did. Sky made it clear one night that this wasn’t something to worry about, and Twilight trusted the other man, even if all Twilight wanted to do was to help.

And maybe he was curious, so what?

“Is this about what you guys have been… working on the past week?” Twilight prodded after a few minutes of Wild clenching and unclenching his fingers, relieved when Wild responded with a nod.

‘Yes.’ Wild signed, and Twilight’s worry grew at how despondent Wild seemed. He decided that patience would be the best course of action, pushing Wild would most likely only make him shut down.

‘He… I…’ Wild’s hands couldn’t seem to decide what to do.

“Do you want to write it down instead?” Twilight offered. Wild’s hand paused, and he nodded eagerly at the idea, swiftly standing up and racing to his bag where he put the journal Four gave him. He didn’t need to use it as often for communication anymore, able to fingerspell any larger or unknown words, but after Four made it clear he wouldn’t need it back, Wild had taken to writing down random thoughts and facts about the new Hyrules he encountered. Not only did he enjoy it, but he would be able to show Zelda later along with pictures on his slate.

Wild missed Twilight’s relieved smile that his idea stuck. While he was used to comforting and helping the children in his village, Wild was not only older, but was much different from the children in Ordon. So far, Twilight had been relying on a combination of how Time gave him advice, and how Twilight comforted Colin. It had so far seemed to work out well enough.

Wild took his place across the fire, and all of his nerves seemed to return full force, causing Twilight to frown. Whatever Wild wanted to tell him, Twilight wondered why it seemed so bad. If Sky knew, it couldn’t be dangerous, right?

Wild’s hands shook as he wrote out what he wanted to say, and Twilight didn’t push him. When Wild was done, he hesitated, as if this would be his last chance to leave. Twilight really hoped that didn’t happen, he really wanted Wild to trust him. Finally, Wild held out the journal, passing it around the fire.

Twilight had to resist snatching it away before Wild could change his mind. As Twilight grabbed the journal, Wild pulled his hand away as if the pages had burned him. He looked like he was about to flee any second. Twilight steeled himself for whatever his eyes would see on these pages, knowing that any sign of a negative reaction would probably result in a missing Link. After mentally preparing himself, Twilight read the small scrawled sentence in the middle of the page, deciphering the shaky ink.

Sky is teaching me how to speak. Verbally.

That… was not at all what Twilight was expecting. At all. He didn’t really know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Out of his peripherals, he saw Wild start to attempt an escape. It seemed Twilight took too long for his response.

“Wait, wait.” Twilight held out his hand as if he were trying to talk to a scared animal. “I’m sorry I was just surprised. That’s great, Wild.” Wild slowly settled back into his spot on the ground, both boys had no idea what to say. One worrying thought, however, was stuck in Twilight’s mind.

“Wild, that's amazing, but you know we don’t need you to talk. We’re all fine with you signing. You don’t need to do this for us.”

Twilight watched as Wild’s eyes widened a bit, and the teen raised his hands, trying to convey his thoughts in a way that would be understood.

Wild liked sign, he thought it was pretty and intricate. But Goddess, he wanted to talk so bad. It was his fault, he shouldn’t have let himself get swept up in all his silly fantasies of finally being able to speak out loud.

Swept up in fantasies of chatting with Wind, being able to answer the younger’s questions honestly and in detail, there was so much more he was desperate to say.

Swept up in the fantasies of arriving in Hateno, visiting Zelda once more. Approaching her normally, raising his hands and talking instead. He longed to see her look of shock. He would never again be her stoic knight, but perhaps he could remind her of her good memories.

Fantasies of just… opening his mouth and saying his thoughts. Being able to tell the others about his Hyrule when they walked down its paths again. Telling them about the stable system, and the treasure he finds in caves and ruins, and the different regions his Hyrule held.

‘I want to’. Wild signed, trying to show Twilight that he wasn’t just doing this because he thought the others were shallow and impatient.

He wanted this, he wanted it so bad.

“Well then I’m really proud of ya!” Twilight grinned, apparently seeing Wild’s true determination. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy reaching out.” Wild felt his cheeks burn a bright red.

Proud? Of what? Despite Wild’s inner crisis, Twilight continued on.

“Let me know if you guys need anything. I could try to help or just help keep the others away, just let me know.” Wild didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just signed a heartfelt ‘thank you’ instead.

“How’s it going? The lessons.” Twilight clarified at Wild’s confused look. The question just caused Wild’s shoulder to sag again.

‘Not good.’ Wild signed.

“Why?” Twilight coaxed.

‘I’m not good at it.’ Wild explained, not meeting Twilight’s eyes.

“I doubt it’s that simple.” Twilight realized he would probably have to talk to Sky to find out what was really happening.

‘Can’t even say my name.’ Wild huffed and Twilight winced at how tired the teen sounded, even in that small noise. It was obvious he was trying hard, and felt like he was getting nowhere.

“You only started a week ago, Wild. I’m pretty sure that’s not a lot of time to already be speaking entire words.” Twilight tried his best to assure Wild, but without the full story it was almost impossible. “Hey.” Twilight gently got Wild’s attention, the boy looking up at him again. “I was serious. Anything you or Sky need, and I’ll take care of it. Okay?”

‘Okay’ Wild signed after some hesitance. ‘Thank you’. Twilight opened his mouth to inquire further about the lessons, when a small figure came barreling into camp.

“I forgot my water.” Wind explained at Twilight’s raised eyebrow, racing over to his bag. “Oh! Hi Wild!” Wind greeted enthusiastically, looking up from his bag to see Wild give a small wave back. At Wind’s victorious smile, Twilight got an idea.

Carefully behind the teen’s back, Twilight gestured to Wild, jerking his head to the treeline. Thankfully, Wind seemed to get the message.

“Wild! Do you want to come back with me? Hyrule and I were going to play a game, we haven’t decided which one yet but we got Four and Legend to join too!” Wind offered excitedly, and Twilight bit back a laugh at that image. Four probably joined by his own free will, perhaps feeling a bit restless. Legend, however, was almost certainly dragged. Probably by Hyrule, they all knew the soft spot the older had for the brunette.

Wild glanced back at Twilight, his head tilting in a silent question.

“Go on, sounds fun.” Twilight encouraged, feeling warmth build in his chest when Wild nodded hesitantly and rose from the ground. Wind resisted the urge to drag the older teen behind him, and they both eventually disappeared into the trees. Twilight was glad the others felt they could just play games sometimes. Sure they usually had to do with sparring or training, but it was nice they felt they could relax, even just a bit. Twilight may have even joined them, but he had more pressing matters.

Twilight walked in the direction he had seen Sky and Wild travel when they began their lesson. Time knew where the two went for safety reasons, but Twilight didn’t want to involve him if he didn’t have to.

Eventually he noticed a clearing to his left. He carefully approached the break in the trees, still wary of monsters lurking around. Fortunately, there was only a familiar sailcloth. Unfortunately, the man in said sailcloth had his head in his hands, obviously upset.

“Sky?” Twilight called, the man whipped around.

“Oh, hi Twi. Did uh… Did Wild-?” Sky cut off, making a circular motion with his hand.

“Wild told me.” Twilight confirmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sky winced at how unconving he sounded. Twilight raised a single eyebrow and the message was clear. Really? You’re gonna try that?

“He’s come far, but he doesn’t feel like it. It hurts to see him struggling so much. I thought I could help, but our situations are so different…” Sky let out a resigned sigh.

“Yeah… he didn’t seem too happy when we talked.” Twilight remembered the tired little huff the boy let escape his damaged vocal chords. Sure the scars on his neck were bad, buit Twilight didn’t realize how bad, not until that night weeks ago anyway.

“He tried to talk to me, the third night he was with us.” Sky’s wide eyes made contact with Twilight’s dark cobalt. “He had a nightmare, tur-” Twilight’s eyes widened, stumbling over the words that were about to pour out of his mouth. He was really about to spill his guts about Wolfie, he wanted to smack himself. “I, uh, I was on watch, and I heard him. He tried to talk after he woke up, I don’t think he knew I was there.” He lied carefully. “He couldn’t even- Hylia he couldn’t even make a syllable. It was just so… garbled.” Twilight didn;t think he’d ever forget the haunted look in the younger’s eyes that night. “Don’t tell him or anyone I said that.” Twilight warned as an afterthought.

“I won’t. Still that’s… I want him to be able to talk if he wants, I want him to have that opportunity. I’m not the right person to teach him I don’t know how.” Sky rushed out.

“And who else will do it?” Twilight questioned, and Sky froze for a moment. “I mean he didn’t seem that close to anyone in his Hyrule. Maybe Zelda, or many he has friends, but we don’t know how long this quest will take. Truth is, I don’t think there is a right person to do this. I think we just have to do it.” Twilight put extra emphasis on the ‘we’ part.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Wild.” Twilight let his voice soften. “I don’t know how to help, but I will. He didn’t seem overly opposed to me being here for lessons, or maybe he didn’t listen to that part. Or I could do something else. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be the reason he gives up altogether.” Sky spoke, although he seemed calmer now.

“Does Wild really seem like the type of person to give up?” Sky cracked a smile at Twilight’s tone.

“Yeah, you all can be stubborn asses.” Sky’s smile grew at Twilight’s offended look.

“You guys? Like you’re not included in that! If anything you’re the most stubborn of us all!”

It was that night that Twilight finally understood.

He was ready to support Wild in whatever he wanted to do, whether that meant signing or talking. But it wasn’t until that night around the fire he understood why Wild wanted to talk. Why Wild would be so determined to achieve that goal.

He didn’t get it, until he saw Wind chat animatedly to the others about the game they had made up to help their aim.

He didn’t get it, until he saw the wistful look Wild sent Wind as the boy continued his ramblings.

Twilight understood now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to get that wistful gaze out of the younger’s eyes.

61 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Massage Therapist Erik

warnings: Anal, AU Erik, Nasty talk.

I am here to worship your mind and your body.

To me in this moment no one exists but you.

I am here to appreciate every stretch mark,

Love handle,

Blemish,

And scar.

You are more than your pain.

You are the embodiment of life and love.

Let me help you find you again.

As a massage therapist you must be careful to make your clients feel as comfortable as possible from the moment they step into the office. A clinical style office with bare white walls and empty shelves will make a person seeking relief feel more like they walked into a doctor’s office than into the hands of a competent, caring therapist. Paint the walls a warm color. Start with pale neutrals or warm, dark colors such as shades of brown or a rustic red or orange. Set the ambience with candles of different scents on shelves. Candle light always sets the mood and sparks relaxation. Invest in massage tables with thick foam cushioning and thermal capabilities. A whirlpool jacuzzi tub is a beautiful, visually pleasing, and fulfilled look that will have your clients envisioning they are in the comfort of their home. Soothing massage oils and creams will leave your clients skin extra soft and incredibly smooth while giving them a rich healthy glow at the same time. Your clients can also add the oils to their jacuzzi bath for a long and relaxing soak that will leave them practically glowing.

Erik Stevens, licensed Massage Therapist and Instructor for six years just opened his very own center titled Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa with a full staff of young black Massage Therapists and Estheticians fresh out of the school he’s an instructor for. Erik offered them full-time and part-time positions and pay starting at $25 HR with the chance to earn more. The center closes at 10 PM but depending on the clientele, the center can stay open as long as it needs to. The uniforms for the ladies are black tunic wrap tops with black pants and the guys wear black polo shirts with black pants. On the back of the uniform shirts in gold is Erik’s business logo. It's the Hand of Midas with the silhouette of a woman’s curves superior to it. Even though Erik has his own spa, he takes personal house calls from some of his favorite lady clients. Erik will have a consultation with his clients to discuss and collaborate on how the mood should be set for the therapy session. Some prefer total silence because it heightens their senses, others like it if he talks with a soft spoken voice, sometimes they like it when he plays R&B music, and almost always they want the lights out with candles lit to set the mood.

As much as he loved being a Massage Therapist, the physical demands can cause you to burn out. Self-care is indubitably important and being as physically fit as possible. The most important piece of equipment a massage therapist has is their own body. Erik stresses the importance of proper nutrition and diet, getting good enough sleep, and taking time out. It’s all about rejuvenation. Poor body mechanics can cause injuries to your hands, arms, shoulders, and back. Generating pressure from the core of the body and relieving neck strain by not looking at his strokes----keeping the head and neck in a neutral, extended position, and resting his chin against his neck to relieve the extensors is how Erik prevents work-related injury. Erik prefers to close his eyes when working because it reminds him that he does not need to watch the work being done so often---it allows him to better focus on what he is feeling with his hands. Erik’s strong, smooth hands have been compared to that of an angel or silk dragging across your skin. His smooth baritone allows you to let go and heal. Imagine how intense it is to have Erik as your Massage Therapist and not be turned on?

When I touch my client’s body, I touch their whole being---their intellect, their spirit, their emotions…

It’s a Thursday evening at Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa and so far throughout the scorching hot day, at least twenty clients have been tended to. Kobi, the new hire receptionist, grabs the keys to the spa entrance, locking the commercial glass double doors. She twirls the key ring around her left pointer finger while walking back to the front desk. Kobi removes her black blazer, stretching out her arms to relieve tension in her back before pulling the bottom of her white blouse down since it had ridden up from her stretching. Kobi leans her head side to side, cracking her cervical vertebrae and then she rolls her shoulders before grumbling in pain. Her cleavage heaved when she released a deep breath before grabbing her black, mini Tory Burch bag from beneath the desk. Kobi then grabs her phone and charger, placing it within her bag. Shuffling from behind the desk, Kobi shuts off the front lobby lights, turning the corner towards the back of the spa.

Kobi punches out with her personal PIN number on a wall-mounted time clock. Finally, Kobi lets her heat-damaged, curly nut-brown hair down, using her fingers to separate the half wavy, half curly strands. The faintly lit hallway made Kobi’s skin more sepia as she walked towards the back entrance of the spa. Kobi notices one of the massage room doors is still open, sighing with a roll of her eyes before approaching the door to close it. Upon arriving at the door, Kobi fought back a rising panic when she noticed the room was still occupied. When the person turned around, she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

“Erik, I thought you had left,” Kobi says with a faint smile and a hand to her chest.

“Spilled some of this massage oil, I forgot to recap it,” Erik chuckles at her terror stricken face while using a black cotton rag to absorb the oil spill from one of the shelves used to store items. Once he was finished, Erik tossed the rag in a linen basket before blowing out the candles.

“Will you be in tomorrow?” Kobi asked as she watched Erik cover each candle. Kobi’s eyes cascaded down Erik’s back like she was following a stream of water. Even through his black polo, Erik’s sculpted body is clearly seen and wickedly tempting to caress.

“Hey, Kobi, can you push that button to turn off the music?” Erik asks. Kobi pushes a black button beneath the automatic lightswitch to the room, pausing the instrumental to Brian McKnight’s Anytime. While he wiped down the massage table, Kobi examined the way his muscles flexed and bunched beneath the russet skin of his bicep. Eyes traveling up the length of his bulky arm, Kobi allowed her coffee-brown eyes to outline the shape of his thick lips, and chiseled jawline. His tapered locs were covering his onyx eyes before he straightened his back, extending his neck to remove them from his line of vision. Erik could feel Kobi staring and when his onyx eyes connected with hers, Kobi immediately looked away before bringing her hand up to massage a kink from her neck.

“Still in pain I see. So, that must mean you didn’t take my advice?” Erik raises an accusatory brow at Kobi, “You know how important it is to take care of your posture, Kobi...c’mere,” Erik motioned with a curl of his finger for Kobi to come to him, “Sit right here, it should be dry now.”

Kobi takes a seat on the edge of the massage table, resting her bag, black blazer, and car keys next to her right thigh. Kobi clears her throat nervously before straightening her back, a whimper slipping past her oval-shaped lips. Erik shakes his head before standing behind Kobe, bringing his skillful and veined hands up to her slender shoulders, leaving a little space between them to make it more comfortable. Erik formed a loose ‘C’ shape with his hands while keeping his thumbs straight. Erik feels for the smooth contour of the muscles just above her collar bones with his fingertips.

“I didn’t even realize how long your hair is, Kobi,” Erik spoke with a hushed tone.

“Oh,” Kobe shakes her head so the strands can fall forward, “Yeah, I do wear it up a lot.”

“Well, maybe you should wear it down more often,” Erik begins, drawing Kobi’s muscles up with gentle, consistent pressure. He constantly presses the tips of his fingers and thumbs into her trapezius muscles from both sides, starting at the inside of her shoulders closer to her neck. Everytime Erik would roll her muscles up towards her collarbones without releasing his grip, Kobe would groan. The muscles in his arms worked to squeeze and lift and as quickly as he started, Kobi became more comfortable and relaxed.

“This damaged hair? Please,” Kobe lets out a panting breath before closing her eyes, “I need to chop it all off and start over again.”

“Shit, I think it’s pretty,” Erik raises and lowers his forearms with slow, smooth motions while focusing on the side of Kobi’s pretty brown face, “The two different curl patterns...I like this wild look on you.”

“Stop with the lies, Erik,” Kobi rolled her eyes before hissing, “Damn...that felt good.”

“Yeah?” Erik went slower to make it feel even better, “Wait until I get to your neck, you’ll be moaning then.”

Kobi’s eyes shot open and her eyelids rapidly blinked, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m wearing pants instead of a skirt---shit, that was inappropriate,” Kobi slaps her forehead. Erik could do that to you---make you say the first thing on your mind no matter how vulgar and X-rated it is.

“It was honest,” Erik clarifies with a deep voice so close to Kobi’s ear that it made the tiny hairs on her earlobe raise, “It happens all the time believe it or not.”

“...What happens all the time?” Kobi says with rapid attention.

“My lady clients getting wet,” from her shoulders, Erik starts to massage Kobi’s neck with light, long strokes, finding her tension spots and applying focused pressure, “A lot of my clients get nervous and scared because they think they’ll get wet or aroused...who cares...if you’re stopping yourself from getting turned on you have too much control over your body...I always tell them to let go, it’s okay, we replace the sheets between every client,” Kobi and Erik share a laugh, “But honestly it’s just about enjoying yourself and letting your mind run free during the experience...I got you,” Erik kneaded his thumbs into Kobi’s tense muscles in a circular motion before gliding his fingers into her hairline.

“Can I be your new client?” Kobi says with a honeyed voice. Erik bites his lip before bringing his fingers around to massage Kobi’s throat.

“Why? So I can make you wet?”

Kobi wanted to say, “But you already make me wet, daddy.” Instead, she says, “So you can help relieve this pain, Mr. Stevens…” Kobi blushes.

“You know I got you, Kobi...I do house calls too.”

Kobi nibbled on her bottom lip. She realizes that her panties are soaked. If only she could let go and unfasten her pants, kick them off, and pull the crotch of her panties to the side. If his fingers feel this good on her skin his tongue would feel even better licking her clit. Her imprudent thoughts in this precise moment are barbaric and Kobi wanted nothing more than for Erik’s heavenly hands to slip inside of her blouse to twirl her nipples. Kobi’s thigh jerked and her fingers gripped the edge of the massage table so harsh that it rubbed painfully against the palm of her hand.

“Better?” Erik’s voice knocked Kobi out of her fantasy. She flexed her back and rubbed her neck before turning to Erik with her appreciative eyes sparkling, “Thank you so much, Erik. I don’t know how else to thank you.”

“Come in with your hair down tomorrow...like this,” Erik uses his thick fingers to part Kobi’s hair and stroke it to the left side of her face for a more untamed look, “You look freshly fucked.”

Alarmed by his words, Kobi’s coffee-brown eyes blinked at Erik slowly. No man has ever talked to her so boldly like that. Kobi licks her lips then bites her bottom one. Kobi was definitely playing with fire since Erik is her boss and she does have a boyfriend waiting for her at home. It would surely be inappropriate if Kobi were to lay back on the massage table, take off her black pants and drenched panties, and spread her thighs so wide so her wet little pussy can open up for Erik to see. She could almost feel the warmth of Erik’s breath drawing closer and closer as his head lowered between her trembling thighs. Kobi wondered if he stroked pussy with his tongue first or if he wrapped his thick lips around the inner folds to suck. Either way, Kobi’s clit jumped, her walls quivered, and her nipples stiffened to pebbles.

“Is your boyfriend picking you up? Erik gives Kobi a teasing smile with a tilt of his head. His onyx eyes damn near tunneled through hers the more he stared.

“No..I drove the car today, “ Kobi inhaled sharply, “It’s getting late, I should probably head out.”

“Yeah, he’s probably worried,” Erik creates space between them both and it felt much colder, “Go ahead...get some rest baby girl, you know it’s gonna be yet another busy ass day tomorrow.”

“You’re right, let me get my ass home,” Kobi laughs nervously before standing from the table. She adjusts her pants, “Thanks again, Erik. For real...I appreciate it.”

“Don’t trip, you know I got you whenever you need me.”

Silence hung between them both and from the way Erik was watching her Kobi was worried about what she would do...what she shouldn’t do. Gathering her things, Kobi gives Erik a final polite smile before turning to leave, sauntering out of the massage room as quickly as she can leaving Erik and his fattened dick behind.

______________

XMilanaRoseX: It’s demon time, how should I fuck this phat pussy tonight?

Milana Russell--- Nevada born and raised before she moved to California. Milana graduated from the University of Southern California with a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and is now pursuing a master’s in criminology. Milana has a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, full lips, shoulder length locs with honey blonde tips, 5’10 and full-figured. Her golden eyes are captivating and her mellifluous voice makes you bend at her will. Milana has her webcam set up in her newly furnished bedroom for some late night play time. There are an assortment of toys on her bed and she’s already oiled down to make her curves stand out more for her horny viewers. Milana is wearing pastel multicolored fluffy cat ears with a holographic heart choker and dramatic grunge makeup with pink glitter and glitter gloss on her lips. Milana kneeled on her heart-shaped bed in white velvet while cupping her large breasts and pointing them towards the camera. Milana jiggles both D cup breasts before releasing them and making them sway in the camera.

“I know Tuesday was titty day but you can never have enough titties,” Milana massaged her oily breasts sensually, “I bet you would love to have a pair like this...these pretty ass titties...you wanna dick my pussy down while sucking on these big ass cocoa titties? Huh? Suck on these chocolate hershey kiss nipples? Hm? I bet your girlfriend don’t know how much you wanna lick and suck on my nipples...not to mention this sweet juicy black pussy,” Milana sucks on her fingers before dragging them down to rub her clit. Her attentive eyes focused on the screen of her Macbook, reading the comments and giggling at some of the responses.

SoulSnatcherrr: Damn babi they are so beautiful.

TyanaBiLove: Can I have you please?

Nuttinyou_: I’ll hold them up for you mama don’t worry. Then I’ll slobber all over them bitches.

TribbQueen94: You wanna meet up? I just wanna rub my pussy against yours all fucking night baby. Then I wanna eat your pussy over and over until you cum on my face. 😛

LaflameDaddy: Made it home just in time to see my favorite girl in action...as always those titties are looking scrumptious...I’m tryna see that chocolate pussy...can’t forget that tight ass either...turn around and show big daddy where his dick belong at girl...stop playing with me.

“Oh yeah, Laflame?” Milana says to one of her fans, “you wanna suck my pussy and fuck my ass? You always wanna fuck my ass, daddy,” Milana turns around, showing her orbit of an ass off that filled up the entire camera. Milana takes one of her hands to spread her cheeks to reveal the amethyst jeweled butt plug snugly fitting into her asshole.

LaflameDaddy: I’ll stretch that tight ass until your eyes roll back little girl...I see you got them toys out…Always ready to fuck that tight pussy like a good girl...I need your pussy in my mouth...wish I could show you this big dick right now standing straight up.

Milana read the comment from LaflameDaddy while biting on her bottom lip, “That’s exactly what I plan to do, daddy…” Milana and whoever LaflameDaddy is have been flirting and sexting back and forth for about three months now. His avatar is a picture of his muscular torso oiled down, his thick brown pipe in his hand, and the devil emoji enlarged over his face. Out of all the nasty, freaky comments Milana receives, LaflameDaddy stood out the most. Milana was sure her other fans envied his gifted tongue that impressed Milana. She really wanted to know how he looked. Milana didn’t do meet-ups with any of her fans for many reasons but LaflameDaddy was worth the risk.

“So, I don’t know which one of you sent me a new toy to play with but I’m excited to use it tonight,” Milana reaches behind her with a big smile on her face, grabbing the little pink love egg to show it off proudly, “isn’t it adorable?!! I heard about these things and I’ve always wanted to try it out,” Milana plays with the little antenna with her finger, “this shit is powerful. I turned it on to test it and the vibration is so damn strong...and it’s controlled with Bluetooth technology so I already know whoever got this for me has something planned,” Milana positions herself towards the edge of her heart-shaped bed with her legs elevated and spread wide open. Milana grabs her bottle of oil, tilting it over so that the heated oil can glaze her phat pussy lips.

LaflameDaddy: your soul is about to be knocked out.

AlluringAlyssa: I have one! We should FaceTime and cum together!

blackhornyyyvirgin: I can’t wait to see you squirt 😊

Shaq_88: ummmmm 😋

Milana rubs her outer lips, leaning back on her elbow while rolling her hips seductively in the camera. The tips started racking in and LaflameDaddy was tipping in a lump sum amount. In a short amount of time being a cam girl, Milana’s tip goals were hit faster and faster. They tip her because they WANT to see her shows. Milana always does things right, and her viewers anticipate it all day. Her computer chimed each time Milana would show off her yummy pussy.

LaflameDaddy: $30

LaflameDaddy: $40

LaflameDaddy:$50

LaflameDaddy: Stop teasing and put that vibrator in…and that butt plug is adorable but I know that asshole is begging for some dick...ummm I see that pussy leaking mama...I wanna lick up every drop of your pussy juice and bury my tongue in your ass 👅

“You’re a nasty nigga, Laflame,” Milana laughs lightly, “You live in Oakland?”

I-love-eating-pussylipss: I’m in Oakland. What's good baby?!

Nastyasfuckkk: $25 👀

PussiiFairy: Laflame can you tip me too? 🥺 Check out my OnlyFans big dick daddy…

LaflameDaddy: 😈 didn’t I tell you to put that vibrator in daddy’s pussy? Stop playing with me.

“Okay, daddy, shit,” Milana laughs again before bringing the pink bullet vibrator to her snug entrance, rubbing it up and down her labia before pushing it inside. The pink antenna dangled from her pussy. Milana brings her knees to her chest and with her phone in hand, Milana starts playing some music. The viewers were even more provoked by Milana’s little show when Twista ft. Trey Songz- Girl Tonite started playing. Milana hisses, here golden eyes love-struck as she focused on the camera. Full lips wide with surprise, Milana started panting. There is no way she could hold her moan. A single vein popped out of Milana’s neck and her gluteal muscles clenched. The different vibration patterns were jumbled on purpose so she wouldn’t expect it.

“FUCK!!!!!” Milana’s fists clenched and her hips left the bed, “Umph, mmmmmmm, uhhhhh, Unh!!!!!” Milana closed her thighs, “Oh my God—“ Milana was creating a puddle of liquid beneath her cheeks, “Goddamn, who is controlling this?!!!”

The vibrations stopped. Milana sat up in her bed, wiping the sweat from her chest. She brings her left hand down between her legs, tugging on the antenna and pulling it out. There, creating a honey trail is her sticky arousal. Her expressive eyes alone showed how shocked she was. That tiny, almighty toy made her squirt and cream in less than a minute. Milana’s golden eyes focused on her camera, wondering just who was the culprit that sent her this heavenly toy. It came with a hand-written card. Milana still remembers those compelling words as if it was recited to her.

Surrender yourself so I can cater to you.

Submit to my flow.

Aren’t you tired of being in control?

Don’t you deserve a moment to see what it feels like to be catered to.

To have all the attention on you.

Don’t make me wait...come get on this table.

Milana was confused by the last bit of the note until she noticed a free pass for an all-in-one spa experience. Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa. Milana heard so much about it. Her best friend, Kobi is a receptionist there. She always talked about how amazing the black-owned business is. Milana had been meaning to get around to it but the pricing was extreme and she already has so many other things to take care of. Car payment, rent, student loans, utilities, cat food, and not to mention anything she needed for herself. Seeing that free pass reminded Milana of how much she needed to relieve stress, reduce muscle tension, and increase her joint mobility and flexibility. A playful smile spread across Miana’s lips as she typed a message on her live chat.

XMilanaRoseX: Thanks daddy Laflame 🥰 are you gonna come clean me up with your tongue when I’m done cumming on this amazing gift?

LaflameDaddy: girl I would eat all of that. Why don’t you put that toy in your mouth and tell daddy how good you taste so I can bust a nut. You’re welcome cutie.

Milana sucked on her toy, “It tastes so sweet.”

DigHerOut_: I wanna eat the hell out of her!!!!

EroticSoulBeauty: fuck that’s so damn juicy 🤤

LaflameDaddy: Yummy...phat creamy pussy...ima indulge in that deliciousness all fucking day when I get you...make your Lil ass cum all over my thick dick.

Milana lifts one leg up before impatiently bringing the vibrator back to her pussy like it never left. As soon as her vaginal walls clenched the toy the deep, rumbling vibrations damn near galloped through her body. Milana bites on her knee to focus but there was no way in hell she was going to fight off her next nut. Laflame was not playing with her. Milana locked eyes with the camera as if he was staring right back at her. She didn’t need to rub her clit because the intense vibrations had her entire pussy trembling and begging for a release.

LaflameDaddy: That's a good girl...I wanna suck that phat cum filled pussy baby...let me lick all that for you girl...shit…

LaflameDaddy: DAMN!!

Milana was leaking all over the place. When she tried to take the vibrator out Laflame turned it up higher causing her fingers to tremor. Her body fell backward against her bed and her hips started rocking back and forth. The vibrations would start off faintly and increase pulsate to a supreme level that has Milana’s abdominal muscles tied up in knots and her heart skipping a beat.

“Shit daddy you got my pussy cumming so hard…” Milana grabs her nine inch, girthy crystal dildo, sucking on it sloppily while twirling it in her mouth. The vibrations continuously fluctuates and at this point Milana didn’t even anticipate her orgasm——it just happened within the blink of an eye. Dildo slipping from her mouth, Milana yanks the vibrator from her pussy and replaces it with the crystal dildo. Her pussy was jammed-full with the circumference of the dildo. Milana rests the vibrator against her clit at the same time she fucks herself. From the tip and down to the base Milana saturated that dildo, covering its transparency with her cream.

LaflameDaddy: got me throbbing hard Milana. Can I have some of that pussy? That thick wet pussy needs some dick mmmm 😋

LaflameDaddy: ima hit that pussy hard...oh you really creaming now...that’s a pussy I’m not pulling out of.

“This big ass dick...I know how much you like to watch me fuck myself...you wanna stretch me out just like this dick don’t you? both of my holes?” Milana knows exactly what to say to drive Laflame crazy. He tips her money again.

LaflameDaddy: It would be my please to stretch that asshole open for you...get it used to being filled up to the brim 😩 ima have your ass addicted fucking with me.

Milana started seeing black spots. Her loud, ear piercing moans were on replay. Milana’s clit was stiff and hypersensitive from the vibrator. It dropped from her shaky fingers and for the third time that evening Milana climaxed. The grip from her pussy around the dildo caused her to squirt yet again. It was the wide tip stroking her G spot that created the water works. Milana blinked tears from her eyes. Words couldn’t describe how hard she just orgasmed. Usually, Milana can last at least an hour in a session, however, her body was so weakened that she couldn’t even sit up in her bed. Every time she tried to touch her clit Milana would yank her hand away because of the heightened sensitivity. Her walls would lock up like a boa constrictor would his prey.

LaflameDaddy : Milana, you still tryna meet up? I need to take care of that body, baby...I just need one night to change your life, girl...you know you want daddy to make you cum so what’s good?”

XMilanaRoseX: tonight? 🥺

Brownskinmami: Can I join y’all? 😢

DarkskinZaddy: ayo Laflame we can share her bruh!

LaflameDaddy: Yeah tonight, I’m not playing no games.

Did this even need a thought process? Laflame sent Milana a $180 dollar tip tonight and that’s not even the highest he’s tipped her. He sent her a gift, spending more money on her when he could simply be a freeloader and watch her cum without emptying his pockets. Laflame made her pussy wetter than any big dick man that had the opportunity to sample her cookies. At this point, she didn’t even care if he wasn’t the best looking guy, his body and his fat dick was enough to convince her that he could do whatever he wanted to her.

XMilanaRoseX: tonight it is then. My place 😊

LaflameDaddy: Bet. I’ll bring my stuff to set up 😏 ima send you a DM.

“Hello?”

Milana spoke into her cell, voice barely audible. Laflame kept his word and sent Milana a DM for her address and cell number. This was probably going to be the only time Milana ever met up with one of her webcam fans. She hoped that he was about that action.

“Milana,” His smooth baritone voice rocked her like an unsteady boat.

“You said your name is Erik,” Milana nibbled on the rim of her wine glass.

“Yeah, that’s me...I’m on my way to you but I gotta ask you something first if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Milana was a little wine drunk, “Ask away.”

“Aight, so, I’m a professional Massage Therapist. I know I sent you a free pass to my spa but I really want to give you the experience at home.”

A male masseuse. This man was the total package. He’s a freak, he’s an entrepreneur, and he’s got gifted hands. Milana felt spoiled and she wasn’t about to turn down a goddamn massage especially when she needs one tremendously.

“After all that squirting you were doing you need me to take care of you.”

“So...are you coming to fuck me or massage me?” Milana cracks a smile.

“I’m coming to fuck you and massage you…”

“Mmm...so what’s your question?”

“I like to give my clients the full experience, you know? Make them feel appreciated, give them a taste of passion...what do you like? Music playing? Me whispering in your ear? Candles lit to set the mood? What?”

“I’d like all of that actually,” Milana twirled her glass of wine with a blush on her face, “I need that so bad tonight.”

“Well I got what you need, I’m here to relax you. Are you allergic to strawberries? Coconut?”

“I don’t have any allergies.”

“Good, cuz I got something special in mind for you, Miss Milana.”

“A man who’s not only gonna dick me down and slut me out but also worships my body...I want and need this, Erik,” Milana says with a soft, smooth, and pleasant sound of her voice in Erik’s ear.

“I'm one of those men that likes to take care of a woman... not only dress her in sexy clothes... take her out when the opportunity arises... but pamper her stressed out body with no expectations... treat her to a sensual massage not only to relieve the worries of the world but also to help her heal from the relentless pounding of my always horny and hard dick. Daddy has to take care of his play things.”

“Damn...you have so much passion for what you do.”

“...Nothing I love more than giving a woman a great massage followed by a deep, strong dick down.”

“Ohhh yes,” Erik was stimulating Milana’s mind with his sultry tongue, “When I say I need a massage....this is exactly what I mean...what I gotta do to get this treatment on the regular?”

“Open your door first.”

Three knocks at her apartment door has Milana jumping up from her spot on the couch, fixing her black silk robe. She tucked a few of her locs behind her ear before sauntering towards her apartment door. With one golden eye, Milana glimpsed through the wide angle lens of the peephole to find a man dressed in athletic attire and carrying a bag on his shoulder and a portable massage table under his left arm. Opening her door, Milana comes face to face with LaflameDaddy himself. He’s wearing a pair of black and gold Nike running shoes, light grey Champion sweats, and a black muscle tee. His tapered locs are pulled back into a ponytail with the sides faded. Erik’s eyebrows knitted together and his onyx eyes surveyed her like she was standing naked before him.

_________________

Everything on Milana was heavy-set; her breasts, her hips, her pudgy belly, her thighs. Her skin reminded Erik of the rich amber color of honey. Those striking golden eyes and lashes that framed her eyes like black lace are spellbinding. Erik would have never guessed that Milana was a tall, thick woman. His affixed eyes slowly descended her body and when they came to rest on her feet he had to bite back his gravelly groan. Pretty pussy, pretty asshole, and pretty toes. Erik wanted all of them in his mouth. Milana’s French tip acrylic nail lifted Erik’s jaw off of the floor. He chuckles with a bite of his lip. Erik stared at the doe-eyed beauty attentively as he walked into her apartment. Erik notices a few totes piled near her apartment door, a new suede sofa set, a mahogany wood coffee table, abstract black woman wall art, and an open balcony with sheer autumn-colored curtains billowing from the wind of the eventide sky.

On Milana’s upper left thigh is a large tattoo of a lion with a mandala flower design. She looked like she was fresh from the shower——smelled like it too. Erik sits his bag on her couch and leans his portable massage table against a nearby wall before moving Milana’s mahogany coffee table out of the way to create more room. Erik grabs his massage table and starts setting it up within the space he created. His sexual appetite for Milana became excessive when she took a seat on her couch with her robe loosely wrapped around her body to expose her big tits for him. When her tits spilled out Erik could only smile at her eagerness.

“Do you offer naked massages?” Milana asks with her beautiful voice like music to his ears.

“I already planned on doing that. Question is, can you handle it?”

“I can handle whatever you give me, daddy...I handled that gift you sent me.”

Erik checked to make sure the massage table was sturdy and secure before strolling over to Milana, taking a seat beside her on the couch. Erik pulls out his phone and unlocks it to show Milana his mobile STD testing results. Negative across the board. Milana did the exact same thing, grabbing her phone and showing Erik her results. Also negative. It was something so mature and sexy about the entire exchange and it made Erik crave her more. Without evening thinking about it Erik’s hand reached out to caress Milana’s exposed left thigh while his hungry eyes drifted to her heavy tits spilling out of her robe.

“So...then I shouldn’t be worried about how you can handle the way I nurture and admire your body and slut that pussy and ass out on repeat?”

“No need to worry baby,” Milana’s hands fondled Erik’s biceps, “ Exactly what I need right now, the sooner I get undressed, the sooner we can do it.”

Erik couldn’t wait to satisfy this freak. Closing the space between them, Erik presses his thick lips against Milana’s. She tasted damn good. He couldn’t combat his tongue and now it was slithering between her full lips and into her wet mouth. He could taste the fruity, tart flavor of the red wine she was drinking. Since it was so silent, the sound of their wet lips smacking with each kiss and their soft moans were amplified. Erik’s lips left Milana’s sticky ones gently but his hand didn't stop stroking her scalp. He doesn’t even remember it being there. The scalp is full of nerve endings and even with the slightest brush of the hair can send tingles through your body. Milana’s eyes closed and her head fell forward slightly. Erik ran his fingernails slightly over her scalp, paying close attention to the space behind her right ear and just above her neck. Milana moaned in his ear when he tugged on her locs in between massaging her scalp.

“Damn, baby, that shit is amazing,” Milana whispered.

“This is lightwork, baby,” Erik spoke with a low tone, “Let me relax you...tell me about your day.”

“It was dull until tonight,” Milana’s lips parted, “mmm, yes.”

Erik’s hands left her hair and Milana’s breath halted when she could no longer feel his touch. She looked up at him through her lashes with pleading eyes for him to continue.

“It’s time for me to give you a good, hard, powerful massage that'll really have your ass moaning and weak to these knuckles and fingers.”

Erik rose from the couch and went to open his bag. He pulls out five different massage oils, a fluffy white towel, a thin white sheet, and three hand-poured massage candles.

“Aight miss Milana, I want you to take off your robe and go lay on that table for me face down,” Erik dug into the left pocket of his sweatpants and his hand came up with a lighter. Milana unfastens her robe and as she walked to the table she allowed the robe to fall from her body. Erik couldn’t fight the urge to steal a peek when Milana climbed onto the table with her round derrière sitting up. Milana folded her arms and rested her chin there with her head propped up and eyes closed.

“Which oil would you like for me to use? I have coconut pineapple...it reminds me of having a cool drink in my hand while relaxing on an exotic beach.”

“That sounds perfect...what are the others?”

“I have Strawberry dreams...it’s pretty sweet. I also have vanilla sandalwood, tropical mango, and island passion berry.”

“That’s a hard one,” Milana giggles, “Uhm...which do you prefer?”

“Well, if it was me and I’m giving my girl a massage I would go for the vanilla sandalwood. That creamy, rich vanilla with that alluring scent of sandalwood...it’s like spending all day in the spa without leaving your home.”

“Then let’s do that,” Milana stroked her locs from her back to give Erik more access.

“Good choice,” Erik sits the massage oil on Milana’s table followed by the three massage candles. Once that was set up, Erik set fire to the candles before turning off the lamp lights in her living room. The candle gives far less illumination than the meanest of electrical light bulbs, yet it is all Erik’s eyes can take. By the flickering yellow the room is dark, the shapes of the furniture discernible but the colours so muted that they are almost grey. The blend of jojoba and soybean oils with warm notes of amber, cedar leaf, and lemongrass, was gentle and soothing.

“Any music preferences?” Erik questioned, his eyes focused on the smooth skin of Milana’s back while he covered her ass with the thin sheet.

“Something sensual would be nice.”

“I can do that,” Erik says with a smirk before finding his favorite R&B playlist. Discovering the perfect song, Erik let’s it play, before resting his phone on the table. There is a sort of poetry behind real R&B music. Usher’s Nice & Slow was one of Erik’s favorites. He was anticipating showing Milana his skills. Removing his muscle tee, Erik grabs the vanilla and sandalwood oil. The bottles were warmed up before he came. Erik applies a little to his hands before doing the same to Milana’s back. His large, veiny hands rubbed in the massage oil with gliding movements in long, even strokes. He could practically see her worries melt away when his hands started working.

“Like that?” Erik inquired.

“Hell yeah,” Milana’s eyes focused on Erik, “you have soft hands for a man.”

“My guess is you ain’t used to that,” Erik tilted his head down at Milana, “where do you have the most tension?”

“My upper back and my lower back.”

“Okay...take slow, deep breaths for me...it’ll help you relax.”

“Like this,” Milana demonstrates her breathing for Erik.

“Exactly,” Erik used the whole of his hand and started at the bottom of Milana’s back, moving upward while applying pressure, and then he lightly brings his hands down the outside of her back delicately. His fingertips stroked the sides of her breasts each time he brought his hands down. Milana’s teeth tugged on her bottom lip. This is definitely foreplay.

“You’ll have me leaving a wet spot massaging me like that.”

“And I’ll be right here to lick it up when I’m done,” Erik reminds her while maintaining contact without applying pressure as he brings his hands back down. He didn’t forget Milana’s shoulders and neck area. This went on for 3-5 minutes while he gradually increased from light to medium pressure to warm up her back muscles.

“Mm,” Milana’s brows furrowed.

“Got a lot of tension in your back, girl,” Erik started with a petrissage technique using shorter, circular strokes with more pressure. He rolled and pressed his hands into Milana’s back to enhance deeper circulation. Erik has her moaning with every motion of his strong hands. Erik’s dick tented the front of his sweats. Looking down, he could see his thick rod twisted to the side. Rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, Erik ignored the pulse from his crotch and continued massaging Milana.

“You are great with your hands, daddy...lawdddd,” Milana hissed.

“It’s nothing like making you feel good with my hands,” Erik whispered.

“Just your hands?” Milana raises a single brow satisfyingly.

“I promise I'd fuck u just as good if not better...let ur pussy wet my dick up…”

“Talk nasty to me,” Milana gasps when Erik’s fingertips tickle the small of her back. The slightest touch there evoked Milana’s pleasure. Erik lowered his head and started licking and kissing that area. Milana’s head shot up and her hips arched from the table. Erik’s forceful hand pushed her back down. Milana looked over her shoulder at him, her golden eyes unblinking. Erik slowly lowered the thin sheet to the floor, revealing her plump backside. Grabbing the oil, Erik covered Milana’s ass while rubbing it in with his free hand.

“I can’t wait to stroke this ass...can you take it?”

“Never did it before, I’ve been training with my plugs.”

Erik spreads Milana’s cheeks and with his thumbs he starts rubbing between her cheeks. That phat pussy from the back caught Erik’s attention and now his thumbs were rubbing up and down her outer lips. Milana’s thighs spread open further for Erik to have more access. With her permission, Erik takes his thumb and pointer finger, spreading Milana’s pussy lips. Her pink glistened like the juiciest piece of fruit. Erik’s tongue is getting hard. He wanted to drop his fat dick all in that pussy. Squeezing his dick through his sweatpants wasn’t a good idea because any type of contact had him ready to bust a nut.

Walking around the table, Erik stands in front of Milana, his hips leaning over her head. Erik started to perform muscle-lifting strokes to Milana’s back in a twisting motion, “When you finally let me fuck that ass ima have you falling in love with anal for ever. Have you wishing you would have been given this ass up,” Erik pushed gently down toward Milana’s lower back, massaging the muscles on either side of her spine.

“With a dick this huge I’m sure you will.”

Erik lowered his head when he felt Milana tugging on his sweatpants. He didn’t stop her, why would he when that monster needed to be freed. Erik’s hands extended down to Milana’s ass and he started kneading the flesh. Milana brings Erik’s sweats down to rest on his upper thighs and she comes face to face with his dick since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Grinning, Milana grabs Erik’s dick in her hand and starts jerking it.

“Fuck, here,” Erik straightens his back, reaching for the massage oil. He squirts some oil on his dick and Milana’s hand. Recapping the oil and sitting it down,, Erik brings his hands to rest on Milana’s shoulders, kneading them gently while she rubbed the oil in on his dick. With both hands now, Milana jerked Erik’s dick like she was grinding pepper. Before her golden eyes like magic Erik’s dick thickened even more in her hand. The oil brought out the beautiful definition of Erik’s veiny shaft and wide tip. Milana’s eyes glossed over and she exhaled deeply when Erik’s thumbs smoothed out the tension from her shoulders.

“Give me your throat baby... It’s not too much to ask for right?”

“Definitely not,” the flexible tip of Milana’s tongue stroked the head of Erik’s oily dick while she jerked him with both of her hands in a twisting motion. Erik grew impatient and palmed the back of her head, applying pressure and forcing her to swallow him like he wanted. He didn’t care if there was oil on his dick, all he wanted to see was all ten inches of his dick vanish down her throat. Milana’s noisy sucking blended with the R&B music in the background. With her oily hand, Milana massaged Erik’s nut sack while eating his dick up with her drooling mouth.

“I see you know how to handle this fat dick with your mouth,” Erik closed his eyes and extended his head, “take care of daddy’s dick baby and I’ll take real good care of you.”

Milana purposely gags on Erik’s dick while innocently looking him in the eyes. When her lips slipped from around his dick she started jerking him with a smile on her face, “can you please explode on my face daddy?”

“You’re my sexy dick pleaser?” Erik smoothed Milana’s dreads from her eyes.

“I’m your sexy dick pleaser, daddy...make me choke on your big black dick until I cry...I want you to cum on my face.”

“All over this pretty face? Hm?”

“Yes, please,” Milana sucked on the tip of Erik’s dick with a tight suction that had Erik’s nut sack so tight it almost retracted into his body.

“Deeper...open that mouth...stop playing,” Erik pushes forward into her mouth with his toned hips, “oh? You wanna keep playing with me, Milana? I’m gonna put it all in ya throat watch and see,” Erik gripped Milana’s head and started fucking the shit out of her throat like it was a pussy. Yes, he did come here to relieve some tension in her body but he always wanted to slut her out with his fat ass dick. Milana has been teasing him for a few months now. He’s already insatiable when it comes down to pussy. So greedy that he was willing to blow Kobi’s back out in that massage room. Boyfriend or not he was gonna stretch Kobi pussy the fuck out. Now, he finally has Milana’s freaky ass to himself.

Erik puts it all the way down Milana’s throat and watches her get too messy with it and gag because Erik was training her throat. He held his dick there to remind her of how daddy’s dick is supposed to be sucked. Her tears cleansed her cheeks and just when her nose began to run Erik’s dick drew back from her throat. She stared at Erik’s dick with her eyes crossed like she was bewitched.

“I love fucking a pretty face...stay focused baby and make daddy nut...fuck, Milana,” She was driving Erik crazy with the jerk and suck combo, “just like that baby...damn...nasty girl, suck that dick,” Erik licks his lips, “Open that pretty little mouth of yours for your daddy,” Erik takes hold of his dick and slaps it on Milana’s tongue, “Fuck I’m about to bust all over your face, hell yeah that’s a good girl, begging for more? So fucking hungry,” Erik painted Milana’s face with his cum and she tilted her head back far enough to catch some in her mouth as well.

________________

A real-life fantasy is what Milana was experiencing.

She giggled at first, but once she got past the tickle response her laughter was replaced with moans. Milana is on her back now, the front of her body completely exposed for Erik to caress. With his soft, masculine hands Erik rubbed-down Milana’s breasts with the warm oil while his thumbs circled her nipples. At this point, Milana is leaking on the massage table. She didn’t think her nipples could actually get this hard. In between his rubbing, Erik would give her nipples a nice suck to change the pressure. Now, Erik is kissing her neck and moving his hands to her torso. With his hands on her hips, Erik lifted Milana’s back from the table in an arch position.

“I wanna put my face in your ass and pussy so bad...fine ass.” With his fingertips, Erik stroked Milana’s torso with his onyx eyes ablaze and his dick ready to bust yet again. Milana gives Erik a sultry smile before grabbing his dick in her hand again to remind her of how big he is. Erik’s hands slid against each other in opposite directions across her stomach, repeating it over and over until Milana’s hips thrust from the table.

“Patience, baby girl...I gotta work my way down,” Erik walks to the foot of the table to stand between her legs. Erik grabs one of her legs, bringing it up so that her foot could rest on his shoulder. Erik used gentle and light pressure near her bones and sensitive areas. As his circular motion increased, the intensity of the massage increased. Milana was up on her elbows from the bed to watch him knead all the kinks out of her legs. She didn’t know how much she needed this until now.

“You got some pretty feet,” Erik gives Milana’s foot a soft kiss. Grabbing her by the ankle, Erik rests Milana’s toes painted coral pink against his lips. Up and down, Erik rubbed Milana’s toes against his lips. His eyes were enough to show Milana that he was surrendering to her but this time her toes are in his mouth. She never experienced a man sucking on her toes and wouldn’t have imagined how sexy it is to feel and watch at the same time.

“Mmm, that feels so good, baby,” Milana gasps when Erik’s tongue licked the side of her foot, “You’re such a freak, Erik.”

With a smirk on his face, Erik uses his teeth now to nibble on her ankle while his hands massage her foot. Using his thumbs, Erik applied pressure to the ball of Milana’s foot and she almost sat up on the table.

“Yesssss, fuck,” Milana brings her other foot to Erik’s oily chest, “Do this one now...fuck, I like that,” Erik sucks on Milana’s toes, “Unh, fuck, that shit is so damn good baby.”

With her foot, Milana makes Erik’s dick bounce before dragging her toes down to his balls. Erik’s hips jerked back and he playfully bites down on the side of Milana’s foot causing her to giggle. After massaging her other leg, Erik seized both of her legs, pushing her knees towards her chest. There, covered in oil and sitting phat and pretty between her thighs is Milana’s sweet pussy. Seeing it up close and personal almost made him weep. Rubbing down the back of her thighs, Erik really wanted to eat that hot meaty pussy right now. He would eat that pussy till his tongue fell off. Then there’s her tight asshole. He wanted nothing more than to beat it down from the inside. Same thing for her creamy pussy. Hitting both g spots with reckless abandon and endless precision. Play with that pussy and make her focus on him while he beats that ass into submission...and she better not look away...

“...Perfect ass for anal pleasure. Do you agree?”

“Mhm,” Milana moves her hips in a circular motion, “Don’t you wanna eat me up? Have a taste baby? It's good for you,” Milana uses both of her hands to spread her pussy lips.

“What a beautiful view baby,” Erik’s head disappears between Milana’s thighs and the first thing she does is grab for his hair, yanking it from its ponytail, “I want that pussy cumming in my mouth too since you wanna pull on my hair like that.”

Erik tongued every drop of that delicious sight before his eyes. So much pussy juice. He was absolutely overwhelmed with how much she produced the more he licked. Now, Erik’s mouth is watering and his spit is mixed in with Milana’s wetness. Stunning, absolutely delicious it looks so tasty, how good would it be to taste the juice of this gorgeous pussy. That was Erik’s first thought when he first saw Milana’s pussy on webcam. Pussy is the prettiest thing, he would think while he fisted his fat dick into another explosive orgasm. He was sucking Milana’s pussy into submission. He was sucking not just on her clit but on her inner folds and outer lips as well. Got to get the whole pussy in his mouth to really make her cum. At this point, Milana was Erik’s favorite thing to eat with the way she creamed in his mouth. With the way his lips are slurping up and down her pussy, Milana lost whatever control she had and surrendered herself to him for the rest of the night.

“Eat that pussy,” Milana’s eyes grew wide when Erik’s tongue started stroking her ass, “oh my fucking goodness.”

Was Milana really ready? He talked about fucking her in the ass so many times before so she already knows that he will take it by force. He must have read her thoughts because now Erik is fingering Milana’s booty at the same time his mouth found its way back to her pussy.

“Daddy?” Milana questioned while his finger twirled in her booty, “Are you gonna fuck my ass first or my pussy? Unhhhhhh, fuck,” Milana’s thighs locked around his head.

“You got that phat pussy running away from me?” Erik held Milana in place with one strong arm, “When that hole give up and you finally take it you’ll be hitting my phone for this big dick to fill your ass up anytime...fuck, it’s so damn tight...can’t wait to get in this ass,” Erik stopped talking and continued slurping on Milana’s pussy. Her cries were ignored the more he worked his thick lips over her pussy. She could feel herself getting ready to cum again and it was so strong that Milana’s lower half was lifting from the massage table. Her sweet moans of defeat came soon after she started cumming in Erik’s mouth. She had no other choice but to lay there and take it. His mouth didn’t leave her pussy, he sucked his way through her nut until he felt as if she had enough.

“That sweet pussy cumming?”

“YES!!!! Fuck yes it’s cumming for you.”

Erik’s lips were back on it.

“Yes!!!! Yes, make me cum, make me cum, Unhhhhh fuck,” Milana was frozen but her stiff body didn’t stop Erik from licking up every single drop. When he lifted his face from between her legs, he was glazed from the oil and her juices.

“I think it’s time for me to massage that pussy with this dick don’t you think? Get up and go to the couch now,” Erik didn’t wait for Milana to answer his question. His fat dick was in his hand and he jerked it with a desperation to finally dig deep in Milana’s guts. Milana sat down on the couch causing Erik to kiss his teeth and slap her right thigh.

“Turn over,” It was a request that needed to be fulfilled with how deep his voice was. Milana was on her belly again, Erik’s hands landing on her ass with two rounds of rough slaps that stung her flesh, “Daddy’s got your back baby, lift this ass up.”

Milana carefully positioned herself with her thighs nice and wide and her face resting against the suede cushion of her sofa.

Mhmmmm,” Erik tapped his dick on Milana’s pussy before grabbing a handful of her ass, pushing himself inside. Even with the amount of lubrication Erik’s dick still expanded Milana’s pussy past limits she wasn’t used to. Sure, she’s taken long dicks before but long and fat? That’s a different story.

“Is this dick up in your guts?”

Milana rapidly nods her head the more Erik pushed. Milana had her doubts that Erik was going to fit but he proved her wrong. Erik’s entire shaft fit perfectly inside of Milana’s pussy like a puzzle piece. His hands stroked her oily skin from her twin globes all the way down her arched back and back up to her hips. Gliding in and out of her pussy, Erik can feel Milana reaching back to grab his wrists.

“If you think I’m about to fuck you with half of this dick because you can’t take it you got me fucked up,” Erik slaps Milana’s hand away a few times before she decided to loop her arm around his, “Nah take this punishment from daddy.”

“Fuck me just like that,” Milana moaned.

“Fuck you just like that? Oh, now you want this dick?”

“Yes. I need that big fucking dick.”

“This big dick right here?” Erik’s hips smacking against Milana’s ass was vivid in her ears, “All up in this puss with my dick…keep that fucking arch Milana I’m taking this pussy.”

Erik started off with that rough sex, straight giving it to Milana. As much as she cried she was taking that long dick. It felt so good that the feeling of his dick applying pressure to her stomach was worth it. He was pounding Milana out like he had pinned up tension towards her. It was as if he wanted to leave her pussy shaking. He was punishing her for sure, Milana couldn’t even look back over her shoulder at him. He was making her take responsibility for her actions——teasing him on webcam.

“I’m pounding this tight little pussy...pussy getting dealt with right?”

“Unh,” She couldn’t only moan.

“Talk to me, oooh this pussy wet wet…beating this wet shit up baby…come on, open your fucking mouth...tell daddy how much you love this dick.”

“I love this big dick,” Milana exhales when Erik slows down to stroke her at a moderate pace. Slowing down made Milana feel just how much dick she was taking. Erik would pull out all the way to the tip of his dick then push all the way in down to the base. Milana could feel the urge to squirt and she really didn’t want to do it on her new couch but it was too late. As soon as Erik’s wide tip hit the bottom of her pussy, Milana was squirting on her couch.

“Got my dick extra messy with this pussy...I needed to fuck you so bad shit ain’t even funny,” Erik slaps her ass, “Make it rain baby, yessss,” Milana was squirting again, and Erik increased the speed of his hips, “pussy so fucking good girl.”

“Umph!!! Unh!!!!!” Milana was whimpering into the couch, “Erik, please, I’m about to cum!!!!”

“Fuckkkk!!!” Erik’s jaw clenched from Milana’s grip, “Nasty Bitch taking all this dick you better cum like a good little slut, Milana.”

Milana did exactly as she was told and made even more of a mess beneath her. Erik starts slapping her ass cheeks around with his dick still buried inside of her.

“You ready for me to get in that ass?”

“Uh-huh,” Milana’s eyes rolled shut when Erik’s dick left her quivering pussy. He didn’t bother to tell her to clean off his dick with her tongue because he wanted to use as much lubrication as possible to fuck her in the ass.

“Let’s take this shit to your bed, it’ll be better,” Erik picks Milana up from the couch and carries her towards the direction that she pointed to. The infamous room of Milana Rose. That signature heart shaped bed. Erik lays Milana on the bed while he is on top of her. They both share an intense kissing session with a whole lot of tongue and spit.

“Come on, girl, bring your legs up,” Erik whispered.

Milana’s knees are against her chest for Erik to do whatever he wants. Standing from the bed, Erik positioned Milana on the edge so he could have the perfect angle. That asshole is...Erik couldn’t even form words. Dick still wet and Milana’s ass nice and oiled up, Erik bends his knees slightly before planting one hand on the bed while the other grabbed his dick, bringing it to her ass and then with a slow, easy stroke, Erik started pushing and Milana was so nervous that her asshole clenched up.

“You gotta relax if you want me to get in that ass, Milana. It’s okay baby...you’ll love it...I know you will...you’re a nasty slut…” Erik tried again, pushing enough to get the tip of his dick in, “mmmmm, you just might make me cum and I ain’t even have this ass the way I wanted to yet.”

“Daddy it hurts,” Milana pushed at Erik’s abs.

“Hold on I got a little bit more for you...it’s almost in there I promise,” despite her cries, Erik finally conquered the tightest hole he ever fucked.

“Ima pull out a little bit,” Erik withdrew his hips, “Fuckkkkkkk,” Erik pushed back in, “I should be balls deep but you acting like you can’t take this dick.”

“It’s too big in my ass,” Milana’s mouth grew wide with shock, “Oh my God it’s in my ass…”

“Milana, stop clenching up,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth, “If you relax I can open this ass up how I want…”

Erik pushes and pushes with his hips. So tight it felt like Milana was trying to squeeze his dick like a tube, “I’m already in there, baby, just take this dick,” Erik’s hands are resting on either side of Milana’s head. She was loosening up for him and her cries of pain turned into soft sighs. Her phat pussy sitting right above her ass needed to be filled too so Erik takes three fingers to finger fuck her.

“Oooh, shit,” Milana eyes rolled back, her body shaking with only half of Erik’s dick in her, “That big dick looks so good in my ass…”

“Grab my dick and push it in this ass.”

Milana sat up on her left elbow with her other hand reaching between her thighs to grab Erik’s dick. When her hand wrapped around his shaft she couldn’t believe how much of him was left. Adjusting her hips Milana forced Erik’s dick in.

“Take your time to ease it in, I’ll wait,” Erik’s fingers twisted and twirled in Milana’s pussy, “There you go baby, there you go,” Erik moves her hands out of the way, “Hold your cheeks open…” moving his hips, Erik started digging Milana’s ass out.

“I’m laying this pipe all in your ass-“

“Yesssssss,” Milana really thought she would be able to handle the way he was fucking her but her hands on his thighs pushing him proved to Erik that she wasn’t ready. He didn’t give a fuck, Milana knew what it was from the beginning.

“Next time, I’m tying your fucking hands down, you can’t take it but you’re moaning while I’m stuffing this ass,” Erik’s fingers rapidly stroked Milana’s pussy, “That's it, spread your cheeks slut and look at this hard dick sliding in and out of your tight little asshole.”

Milana’s eyes connected with Erik’s dick, “Unh, fuck.”

“You’re a good girl?” His dick started hitting her ass faster.

“I’m a good girl-yes, get it baby.”

“THAT'S what i'm talking about,” Erik could finally go at the pace that he wanted, “Train me daddy, fuck,” Milana’s ass started creaming Erik’s dick, “I’m a good girl I’ll take it in the ass.”

“Damn, girl…” Erik chewed on his plump bottom lip.

“Let me show you I’m a good girl,” Milana gripped her sheets and started moving her hips to meet Erik’s strokes. Just minutes ago she was crying about how it hurt and now she is accepting Erik’s fat dick in her ass.

“Oh yeah? Put that work in for daddy,” Erik’s fingers alternated between rubbing Milana’s clit and fingering her pussy.

“Yes, daddy,” Milana’s face frowned with ecstasy, “Unh, fuckkkk,” Milana started squirting.

“Yeah, you’re a good girl, keep squirting, come on,” Erik pushes Milana’s thighs back and pounded her ass. Milana’s hips kept moving and Erik was growing frustrated. Slapping her ass, Erik’s fingers squeezed Milana’s legs harshly and his nails were digging into her skin. He really loved her ass. Milana scratched his abs and slapped his chest. He was getting balls deep in her ass, growling in her ear, biting her neck, and gripping her thighs.

“If you keep it up daddy will fill this ass up with my fat nut,” Erik whispered in her ear. The squishing sound of his big dick pistoning into her ass as he rocked her body brought him to the brink of climax just as Milana reached hers.

“This big ass dick got me squirting…UMMMMMMMPH! FUUUUUCK,” Milana pushed that squirt out her pussy and it stained Erik’s dick and thighs. The dick was buried in her ass and yet her pussy still reacted to it. Erik quieted Milana with his lips. He swallowed her cries and pushed himself in deeper to make his balls slap her ass. Unable to hold back any longer, Erik pushed himself all the way in and held it there. Dick pulsating, Erik’s thick cum filled Milana’s ass. Her warm hole drained him dry like she was sucking the life force out of him. Erik couldn’t speak, all he could do was sweat all over her and kiss her lips and face. Pussy a creamy mess, ass filled to the brim with Erik’s cum. Lifting his sticky body from hers, Erik kissed a trail down Milana’s body before his thick lips found her pussy. He used the suction of his lips to clean off her pussy.

“You still want that free massage? I’m there all next week.”

Eyes like stars, Milana gives Erik a tired smile with her hand stroking his goatee. It felt so good and so right in his arms and this was her first time with Erik; to accept the adoration that was being given to her. Milana was very certain that Erik has other women waiting in line for the opportunity to have him. What transpired between them has Milana anticipating future sex. If only.

“How does next Friday sound?”

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara@honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @chaneajoyyy @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0 @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity @therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892 @queengodiva619 @niqui87 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @backandbetter2 @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife @queenflaws @cecereads209 @queenbetter @yomiloo @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @ambitionwood @t3mporaa @toniilaney @iv0rysoap @sinfully-dope @lovehatecritique @chocolategirl605 @naysianaee @nyleveeee @erlebnissebliss @melinaasap1 @woahthatshitfat @that-chick212 @scarypumkin23 @sambuckyslayallday @vikki240401 @kuaua98 @enigmadivine @gingerylimonte @counterfeit-recherche @unholyxcumbucket @xdezaraex @missgigglesmoultrie @imrootingforeveryoneblack @dashhoney25 @oversorry @abluesforlyssa @honeybeejaes @admirehermind @wassuduoo @kaykay0829 @woahitslucyylu

#killmonger imagine #killmonger smut #killmonger x oc #nahimjustfeelingit writes

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brazenautomaton · 3 years ago

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Fixing Afterlives: the Shadowlands

This is my “fixing stories” for WoW’s latest expansion, Shadowlands. Due to overwhelming popular demand, by which I mean @shieldfoss and @bhikshu I’ll go into why this is dumb and how they could have done something instead of choosing to do nothing.

I will work under similar constraints to my Heart of the Swarm rework. I magically became Creative Director of WoW just for Shadowlands, so I cannot alter any of the plot of BFA or Legion or anything that came before. The concept art is done and asset creation is proceeding and I can’t change the overall structure or aesthetics of anything, just how the story is implemented.

Minute one, what you need to do to make this expansion work is sit down and figure out what it’s About. Now, a MMO expansion doesn’t really need a driving central theme, though it can help, and it’s allowed to be “a bunch of stuff that happened” because it needs random-ass side plot bullshit going on. But the tagline is “Brave the Beyond”, this is the AFTERLIFE, this is where we go when we die and the world of the soul -- we need to be dealing with things bigger than us, bigger than the concept of us. Fundamental and About something because they are mythic incarnations of what kind of life you can live and what kind of world exists.

We’ll still have an About in the traditional sense though. It doesn’t have to unify everything, but it’s good to have a bit of a through-line to define the main conflict. And also, there’s a certain point where characters need to stop saying “The Jailer… speaks true…” and fucking tell us what he says and WoW passed it long ago. Our About is a central question about the Jailer, and the broader notion of Hell represented by the Maw: “Is it possible for someone to do something so horrific that they deserve infinite punishment?”

And it’s funny, you know, you see JJ Abrams talk about the “mystery box”, and when he explains it, it makes perfect sense: a mystery that is central to the story but is never answered because it represents infinite possibility until it is revealed. And told in that way, that makes sense, that can be very good! Except Abrams never does that, he always ends up having to reveal the contents of the mystery box which by his own logic can never end in anything but disappointment. So I can’t say we will have a mystery box, but we will have a central mystery that we know will never be answered: what did the Jailer do to deserve the Maw? All we know is it is incomprehensibly horrible. Like our mortal minds would literally be unable to process it, even trying to understand it would harm us. So this isn’t “nah he’s bad trust us” we need characters who DO know to really, really sell it. Emotional reactions of anger and revulsion and helplessness, and absolutely nobody whether opposed or allied with the Jailer can deny his evil or say it wasn’t that bad. When you ask Devos about it, Devos shudders in fear and disgust, but says it doesn’t matter. If the question was “how bad was the Jailer’s crime” then we’d need to know what it is; if the question is “is it possible to have ANY crime bad enough to warrant his punishment” then we don’t.

Minute two, you need to know how the Shadowlands works. Because they made it just another continent and that doesn’t make any sense at all. What kind of candy-ass warrior afterlife gives you one life and then your soul is destroyed? How does it make sense for characters to call you “mortal” when they die just as hard and in fact you are superior because you haven’t used your extra life yet? Fuck how are necromancers a thing in Maldraxxus, if your soul is obliterated when you die in the Shadowlands WHAT ARE THEY CALLING BACK?

So none of that bullshit. You don’t die in the Shadowlands, at least not without a lot of work. Souls are anima, and the tide of dead souls flowing into the realms of the Shadowlands is a flow of anima, because everything is anima. Anima is the force of significance and permanence. Anima is what makes up shadow and substance, things and ideas. Anima is the weight of being About something, anything. You don’t die in the Shadowlands by having your body stabbed to death. You will continue to exist, slightly weaker. You die in the Shadowlands when there is nothing left to the concept of “you”. When you are utterly forgotten and what you are is “nothing”. This is how we get those Unraveling Soul Fragments in Torghast: they are souls tortured so much there is no longer a self there, just a concept of misery. That’s extremely, extremely evil. Is it possible to commit a crime so heinous it deserves infinite punishment? If not, is there a crime so awful that it would be unimaginable to inflict it even on its perpetrator?

We also have three major antagonists we need to know.

One of them is Sire Denathrius, who is just fucking perfect the way he is, we love you Denny.

One of them is Sylvanas Windrunner. Sylvanas needs to stay in character: an absolutely remorseless piece of shit with no sense of right and wrong but who does productive things because they benefit her and who is extremely cunning to know how to work an angle to her ends. She’s too smart to get lied to by the Jailer and she’s too smart to go Full Evil but not only is anything less than that completely fair game, she doesn’t get why you have a problem with it. She has allied with the Jailer because there is one thing she absolutely wants to do and only she can do and she can only do with the Jailer: she wants to break him out because in doing so the hold of the Maw is shattered and now anyone can escape. The Maw stops being a prison once the Jailer escapes. And she wants that because she knows she’s got a one-way express ticket to the Maw when she finally runs out of extra lives. She knows she is a selfish, terrible, murderous, monstrous person. Does that warrant infinite punishment? In her heart she is convinced it does, so she’d prefer to make the question irrelevant before she has to find out. She is sympathetic to the pain she is inflicting on others, because it is like the pain she has felt. But she won’t stop. She knew she endured it, so you can take one for the team.

The Jailer is super super super super evil. If we remake him to be obviously in pain and lashing out in fear, he won’t WORK. He needs to be ominous and menacing and say “your soul is mine” and that kind of shit. We will be able to generate sympathy for Sylvanas, we shouldn’t try to do it to the Jailer. He is the victim of the ultimate injustice, but also perpetrator of the ultimate atrocity. He’s not sorry at all. The fact that he has raised a philosophical question about the nature of punishment is just a nice side effect of him saying things to people to get what he wants, which is to break out and inflict tyranny and suffering. Sylvanas is not tricked by him into thinking he only wants freedom, she has a plan that has his true motives in mind. What dimension do we give him so he won’t be flat while still being completely one-dimensionally evil? He resents you. He doesn’t lash out and scream his emotions and say it’s not fair that you have what he was denied freedom. But he resents you. A little ribbon of resentment threaded through his speech to you. He’s subtly insulted by the fact you exist. He doesn’t merely relish your suffering, he relishes your failure, your realization of weakness. He doesn’t pull an Azmodan and say “okay well NOW this trap is inescapable despite you escaping the last twenty!”, he knows you’re probably going to break free of things and escape. But he doesn’t care that this trap didn’t catch you, catching you would just be a bonus. He cares that he hurt you and made you feel inferior and the inevitable doom encroaches just a bit more on you. That is the source of his sinister satisfaction and confidence. He doesn’t announce an ambush and say “now you will never escape and your soul is mine,” he announces it by saying how weak and stupid you are to fall for it.

His victory is inevitable because Death is inevitable. He doesn’t care what temporary victories you earn; he doesn’t bother trying to convince you they are only a setback. He’s going to have you eventually and you’re going to suffer on the way. What a fucking dick.

#fixing stories #my fiction #World of Warcraft #wow

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reynie-muldoons · 3 years ago

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'The Art of Conveyance and Round-Trippery' Liveblog!

Sorry this is a few days late!! I moved across the country this weekend, we drove like 13 hours within 2 days and we did a lot of heavy lifting. I'm exhausted, but the boxes are slowly emptying and I've been wanting to watch this episode so gd bad, so LESGO

Over halfway through the season!!!! That's absolutely surreal

1:11 oooh they're getting their royal fitting

1:22 LMAOO WTF 😂😂 Princess Diaries vibes

1:42 ✨CONFIDENCE✨

1:52 Alfonse is a perfect name for that guy HAHA

2:05 Nathaniel, my guy, you've made some points

2:11 "do you feel your power?" POWER RANGERS, GO

2:24 no no hesitation just prolly thinkin bout how he was caught cheatin

2:39 "can you not allow yourselves luxury?" okay fr I feel that I get Nice Things Guilt(tm) too easily

2:52 dayummmm let's talk about Sticky being a hat stall between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, mans is brave as fuck under extreme pressure and loyal to the point of putting himself on the line

3:15 bro Sticky getting some recognition. Love to see it, he deserves it

3:19 "is that a coincidence? Or written in the stars?" IS DR. CURTAIN CATCHING ON THAT THEY KNEW EACH OTHER BEFORE OR LIKEEEE

3:49 WHAT WORD AROUND CAMPUS 😭😭😭 MY BOYS ARE NOT A MISTAKE HOW DARE YOU

4:09 why doess the action of Dr. Curtain putting the sash on them seem so nefarious

4:36 I dont really understand the whole pastel yellow, blue, and pink palette of the school but the boys both look pretty okay in their vest-sash getup

4:42 THE OPENINGGGGG. This shit slaps.

5:41 Kate and Constance look so fucking cute in that shot, dont ask me why but hnnggggg

5:54 sash rope 😂😭 kate, honey, that's a reach

6:09 it might feel buttery, but, my guy, it also looks buttery. It's literally the color of butter. Get yourself some crisco

6:24 I find it kinda interesting that they made up new riddles for the show, I'm almost positive that that one wasn't in the book. Correct me if I'm wrong though

7:03 "I'm not gonna apologize for knowing things" the sass. the ✨confidence✨. living for it

7:03 If they build on that it sets Sticky up really nicely for the arc in the second book where he starts to show off a little

7:15 tiny Constance who is constantly dressed in pink with cute little braids is the perfect medium for the most morbid comments 😂😂

7:55 Martina's hot in her uniform. Can't prove me wrong.

8:15 why does that make me sad 🥺 eat with your friendssss. iirc they only talked about eating at the Messenger table in the books

8:26 dipshits forgot their lunches. Seems Constance is holding the communal braincell atm

8:50 anyone have Guiness on speed dial? Reynie and Sticky have a submission for them

9:25 oh hello this was alluded to in the preview!!! Morse code is compromised, rip

10:05 so are Jackson and Jillson stuck with night guard duty all the time?? They've been outside at night a lot

10:18 ahhhhhh the little blinkie light, stopppp

10:25 MILLIGANNNNN!!!

10:25 so is this the point where he starts staying on the island with them????

10:39 so are they just like "fuck it we'll do it right before sundown" ???? Like Jackson and Jillson are still gonna be on the lookout, they aren't gonna chill just because it's not fully dark

10:50 did the kids.....just not tell them that Mr. Bloom was on the island 😂 nice oversight guys

11:05 MADGE TIME MADGE TIME

11:05 remind me to tell you guys a story about Madge, I may or may not have done something irl a few years ago that would make y'all proud 😂😂😂

11:16 idk why but it makes me so happy that they kept Madge as a peregrine falcon

11:37 Rhonda, my love, you have my heart in your hands

11:46 roll credits

12:05 THE HEAD SHAKE HAHAHAH

12:06 Awww man, I was so excited for Milligan to be on the island .-. He must have been scoping out the inlet

12:07 "they're quite regal" A. I read the subtitles as "legal" the first time and that's somehow really in character for him, and B. IS MILLIGAN GOING TO NAME HER???!? HER MAJESTY???? PLEASE I WOULD LOVE THAT SO MUCH

12:15 his grimace KILLS ME

12:17 the hard cut from Nicholas in a brown setting and brown suit to Nathaniel in a blue setting and blue suit was lowkey striking

12:36 are they looking up Morse code 😳 can you imagine if they wrote down the message and are now decoding it

12:41 omfg all that for a HAT 🙃 I feel stupid

12:51 two things: 1. Those walls are atrocious, and 2. Yeah, talk about Morse code in a louder voice Connie girl, you're just in a public hallway

13:03 I'm sorry but those orange pillar things are not the vibe

13:03 the golden gate bridge called, they want their arches back

13:10 please let Kate climb the tower before the end of season 1. please.

13:22 y'all are about to be flying something else 😎

13:33 cleansing breaths

13:47 OH HELLO MESSENGER DUTY ALREADY??

14:06 what the heck is that teal pole for 😭😭

14:12 blindfold timeeee

I'm so sorry but I'm exhausted, it's 11:30 pm on Sunday night right now, I'll finish this episode tomorrow morning after I get some sleepies

Good morningggg lesgetatit

14:50 "vomit of metal" ashhdjdjd

15:16 a wild Martina appears!

15:36 and if you folks look to your left, you'll see a wild Constance being the voice of reason once again

15:57 "lose the bucket" "I'm not gonna do that" HELL YEAH KATE

16:07 I get not having the bucket on the court lolol, I thought Martina was telling Kate to lose the bucket in general. Like, yeah, good luck convincing her to so that

16:35 show!Kate is much angrier than book!Kate and I'm still deciding how I feel about that. The Kate we've known from the books is a sunshine baby with looots of repressed trauma.

17:03 ......what is that. why is that.

17:11 WAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE REYNIE AHEHDJDJD

17:15 HI MADGE

17:41 the grand swell in the music makes me think it's going to go comically wrong

17:51 she's majestic because she's a queen 🥺

18:03 LMAO CALLED IT

18:14 Rhonda and Number Two getting at each other is such a sisterly thing to do 😂😂😂

18:37 ohhhhh? Someone's approaching? Miss Perumal perhaps????

18:45 YEAHHHHH BABY

18:50 PROTECTIVE MOM COMIN IN HOT!!!

19:22 THEYRE SO PRECIOUS 😭😭😭😭 I feel like I've been subconsciously starved for her and Mr. Benedict's interactions

19:36 died at that line in the one trailer

20:00 so Miss Perumal pulled a Sherlock Holmes. Love that for her

20:20 Cheri Tupintown??? Of all the aliases they could pick, Cheri Tupintown???

20:33 "Power in Truth Inc" that HAS to be something Rhonda came up with

21:01 you can literally watch Mr. Benedict realize that this is a woman not to be fucked with and he is CORRECT

21:23 "he's fine. Perfectly fine." At this, Mr. Benedict's pants caught aflame.

21:52 something about Constance sitting in on practice!!! It scratches an itch!!!!

22:19 "incorporate the helix. Live in the helix." Lord Helix is pleased with this offering.

22:26 so what I'm hearing is Kate is going to blow up on Constance for messing with the bucket

23:13 unrelated but Jillson'a shoes are cute

23:29 why does this room give off Johnny Depp's willy wonka vibes

24:13 that looks like a chair from a doctor's office waiting room 😭

25:29 they do be egg heads tho

26:02 baby girl, I have no idea why you're crying at weird art but let me dry your tears 🥺🥺

26:50 SHE FOUND ITTTT

27:27 okay Indiana Jones, go off

27:46 why did that kinda sound like Miss Perumal

28:43 the return of everyone's favorite, "enjoyable"

29:05 not that I'm not loving the ice breaker questions and the one-sided conversation, but I'm not loving it

29:22 oh so we're getting right into it aren't we

29:54 his eyes being open again makes this infinitely creepier

30:36 "where's your proof?" Miss Perumal doesnt fuck around!!!

31:29 you're telling me Constance has been there all day?? And Kate went to find her???? 🥺

31:58 oh so we're getting right to it then?? Kate addressing her independence and trust issues arc????

33:29 NEWS!!!!

33:49 CONSTANCE RIDING PIGGYBACK!!!!!!

34:04 okay, so they opened the murder hole, what are they gonna do now

34:59 Italian? 🤨 m'sir that is so fancy

34:59 fun story I learned Italian diction in college, so I know a little bit

35:16 "take your time" the whisperer says, immediately repeating the prompt to get the answer sooner

35:31 theeeeere it is

35:46 SOMETHING ABOUT THE WHISPERER SAYING "YOU ARE HOME" 😭😭😭 the show really played up the cult shit!!

36:02 Kate being protective of Constance 🥺

36:20 ohhh shit is it time for Connie girl to have double Reynie? Double Sticky?

36:36 STICKY

36:52 "what kind of nonsense?" HAVE THEY NOT ASKED THAT BEFORE THIS?????

37:14 "and your tiny brain can somehow pick it up!!" KATE STOP 😂😂😂

37:16 "I knew you had to be special in some way." WE DONT HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT

37:51 she's right, this is disregard for their safety. The show made Mr. Benedict and his team a lot more back-alley and dishonest, and Miss Perumal has every reason to be pissed

38:30 oh good they finally remembered he has narcolepsy

39:38 and the best mom award goes to:

40:38 I was gonna say that this hallway is how I imagined the KEEP in riddle of ages but then I remembered that (spoilers) the Institute is the KEEP

40:46 oh, hello propoganda

41:10 that's the other person Rhonda couldn't contact, along with Mr. Bloom. This has to be the brainsweeping process

41:22 yeppppp

41:44 this dark doctor's office theme gives me horror movie vibes

42:22 ohhhh, so that's how they replaced that scene where the four of them jump in a crate to hide and Sticky drops his glasses in the open

42:47 and so we've come to the part of the story where Sticky and Reynie become infinitely more conflicted

42:47 and since we've reached that point..... can we have the white knight scene? Pretty please? Please Disney I'm begging you-

43:12 so Reynie just figured that out without Constance? :/

44:03 love the manipulation

44:31 I'm sorry, the farm?

44:35 farm and forest????

45:16 "the Emergency has served its purpose" 😳 well okay then murder man

45:39 "one thought, one purpose" the hive mind rises once more

45:48 LOVE THE MANIPULATION

46:07 "what have you done to earn anyone's trust?" VALID

46:26 "please do!" WHY AM I EMOTIONAL

47:06 "we still have the falcon" that you do 😂

47:19 AYYY HERE WE GO!!! Time for Milligan to stay on the island??

47:49 ohhhh Constance, casual telepath strikes again

48:16 "stop it, Kate!" OOOOHHHHH

48:53 that line ("it would be nice to be unburdened") would be funny as shit if not for the fact that Constance is a telepath unbeknownst to herself and can both subconsciously perceive people's thoughts and hear the subliminal messages

49:20 HI MRS. PERUMAL!!!

49:25 wow, she's really going through with it 😳 not that I doubted her, but still, that's dedication

49:39 OH SHIT

50:17 oh, so he's an asshole to SQ too. Got it. Torches and pitchforks? Ready to kick his ass?

50:40 "for the moment, anyway" FUCKIN WHAT

This episode was really good!!! They covered a LOT. I hope Miss Perumal comes back to the group and talks about her findings, I hope Milligan goes to get the kids and they tell him no, and I hope they get that classic 4-person Society brainstorming and binding time that hits that sweet spot

#mbs disney+#mbs liveblog #the art of conveyance and round trippery #the mysterious benedict society #charity's talkies

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cosmicjoke · 3 years ago

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Okay, so on to chapter 3 of “No Regrets”!

I’ve got a few observations, so I’ll just delve in.

First thing, and once again, I found this a huge improvement over the visual novel, but we get more insight here into the reason Erwin was so intent on recruiting Levi. During the scene in which he’s arguing with the other squad leaders about letting a group of “criminals” into their organization, Erwin pushes back against the other scouts deriding Levi and his friends. I really loved Erwin’s line here, where he says “You’re right. These people had no training. They did not earn wings from us. They grew their own, out of necessity.” This shows us that Erwin has a grasp and an appreciation for the hardship Levi and his friends faced while growing up, while most of the other SC leaders and even regular recruits can only look down on them and see them as gutter trash. This shows Erwin’s own scope of vision, his ability to look past a person’s upbringing and background and not make judgments about them based on that. More telling still is his comment about how “those wings will play a part in revolutionizing this organization.”. He wanted Levi’s skills in particular because he knew having someone like Levi around, with exceptional ability, would shift the way they all fight Titans. He was, as always, looking for ways to increase the effectiveness of the SC, and was willing to do whatever he could, and through any means necessary, to ensure it.

The next thing that caught my attention is the glare Levi and Erwin share during the trio’s introduction to the rest of the soldiers. Erwin’s right in front of Levi, standing there, reminding him of his anger and humiliation no doubt, and I think that leads directly into and impacts the next scene, when Flagon shows them their sleeping arrangements. Levi’s already no doubt irritated by having to see Erwin again, and then Flagon makes his frankly deeply disparaging remark about Levi and his friends having spent their whole lives living in a trash heap, implying that they’re filthy gutter trash, and so surely are incapable of keeping themselves and their environment clean. Levi, understandably, reacts badly to this, and gets in Flagon’s face, asking him what he just said, before Furlan intervenes. When you consider the way Erwin already made Levi feel so humiliated and Levi’s subsequent anger at it, then having to see Erwin again not long before this scene, and hearing Flagon just callously make an accusation like that must have only infuriated Levi more. I think, once again, the manga is doing an infinitely better job of portraying the tension, then, that’s starting to form between Levi and Furlan. Furlan scolds Levi after Flagon leaves, almost talking down to him when he says “Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble?!”. Almost like he’s talking to some misbehaving little kid. Levi’s expression in the following panel says a lot, I think. Levi looks almost chastised, like he knows he’s upset Furlan, before he tries to explain himself, asking Furlan “Didn’t you hear how he talked about us? Like shit calling shit dirty.”. It’s really interesting what this says about the power dynamic in their relationship. Levi is ostensibly the leader of their group, but Furlan’s acting, in a lot of ways, like he’s the one in charge and he expects Levi to fall in line. Clearly, he’s not afraid of scolding Levi, or challenging him. All of Furlan’s insistence that they lay low and not do anything to draw attention to themselves must only be chaffing though at Levi’s already heated feelings about the kind of treatment they’re receiving, how they’re being talked down to, etc... It must be galling to him, to see Furlan not seeming to care that they’re all being so deeply disrespected. But he still continues to defer to Furlan, and agree to go along with his plan for now, though he makes his displeasure known by calling it a pain in the ass.

But seeing Erwin, and then being treated the way they were by Flagon, seems to have rekindled Levi’s desire to take his revenge, and he reminds Furlan that he’ll continue to go along with his plan, but that he’s still going to kill Erwin. Once again, we see Levi being pulled in two different directions. He’s giving priority to Furlan’s plans and wishes, but he’s still thinking about getting Erwin back. He’s annoyed that they weren’t assigned to Erwin’s squad, probably because it means it’s going to limit their contact, giving him less opportunities to kill him. Another line that I think signifies Lev’s annoyance at Furlan and how, well, dismissive he is of Levi’s own feelings, is after he tells them they have to clean the area around their beds before leaving for training, and in response to Isabel’s protests, he says “You wouldn’t want me to cause trouble, would you?”. He’s throwing Furlan’s words back in his face here, and it seems clear to me that Levi is frustrated and doesn’t appreciate the way Furlan’s been talking to him, or how little consideration for his own wishes he’s shown. There’s a lot of tension there.

Another really important scene is the one in the training yard, so I’ll got through it here.

Particularly when Isabel is talking to the Scout helping her with horse riding, and they get to talking about life in the Underground, and then Levi. What Isabel says, and the visual of the panel here, is particularly powerful. She says “It got so I thought I was gonna die. But life’s a little better since Levi saved me from that.”. And we see in the panel Levi lifting Isabels’ head up, obviously checking if she’s alive. There’s all these people, collapsed around her, and the fact that Levi is checking to see if she’s alive is interesting, because it makes me think this is something Levi would regularly do. That he would check to see if anyone was alive when he came across people collapsed in the streets. It’s probably not unusual to come across dead bodies in the Underground, and for someone like Levi, who’s lived there all his life, he’s no doubt seen plenty. The fact he checks Isabel shows a lack of callousness towards the sight, which is incredible, to not become uncaring or apathetic towards suffering, even when you’re surrounded by it your whole life. It’s a highly unusual quality to have, but of course, it makes perfect sense for Levi, who’s so full of compassion.

Nevertheless, it would have been simpler for him to just keep moving and ignore her, but instead he stopped, and when he discovered she was still alive, he took her in and gave her food and shelter and a home. She would have died otherwise. Levi had no obligation towards her, he had no, really good reason to do something so selfless, and yet, he did. And this truly is remarkable, especially when you consider the kind of cut throat world Levi grew up in, the kind of ruthless people he’d encountered, and even lived with, like Kenny, all his life.

Then there’s Furlan’s discussion with another soldier, and his story about Levi. The most interesting thing Furlan says here is how, after his own friends turned on him, he’s followed Levi ever since. And then he says “Though it might be problematic making him any kind of leader!”. It’s interesting what this reveals to us about Levi. People want to follow him because he’s so strong, but Levi himself has no desire for power, or control over others. People willingly attach themselves to him, because they think Levi can protect them, but Levi isn’t any kind of natural leader. So we know Levi was more or less forced into the role of leader by way of others seeking him out and assigning him that role. What’s interesting about this is how it, once again, reveals the kind of person Levi is. He could easily have rejected all of these people and abandoned them. One thing we know is that Levi didn’t need any help surviving on his own in the Underground. But instead Levi allows them to stay with him and willingly offers his help and protection, and though it’s probably more of a pain and a nuisance to him than anything else. It shows that Levi’s never been able to turn away from those seeking his help.

Which leads nicely into the next scene.

I’ve talked about this scene before, and how disappointed I was that they didn’t include it in the OVA. This also wasn’t included in the visual novel, which is, once more, just another way in which the manga is superior.

Flagon is once again criticizing Levi for holding his blades “wrong”, telling him he’s going to end up getting killed outside the walls. And then the training exercise begins, and we see one of the other soldiers trying to compete with Levi, and growing increasingly incensed and annoyed at Levi’s prowess. He thinks “These vagrants with no knowledge as soldiers...” and then “I trained half to death, and these criminals think they’re better?!”. What’s interesting is to see that while this soldier is fuming internally over Levi’s perceived slight of him, glaring at him angrily, Levi clearly hasn’t even taken notice of him. This isn’t a competition to Levi at all. He’s just there to do the exercises. He’s staring straight ahead, blank faced as always.

Now what happens next is once more hugely revealing as to Levi’s character. The infuriated soldier decides he’s not going to accept that Levi’s better than him, and so he intentionally pushes off of a tree and cuts Levi off mid-flight. What struck me about this is how incredibly dangerous it was. Levi’s going, presumably, full speed, through this obstacle course, and this dude, out of petty jealousy, cuts him off by flying right in front of and past him, forcing Levi to pull back and change direction. A stunt like this could have easily resulted in serious injury for Levi, or even death, if he weren’t as gifted as he is. To top it off, this soldier then brags about it, calling out to Levi “Don’t get left behind!”. Of course, his arrogance leads to immediate disaster, as the soldier that went through the course before lost one of their blades in the dummy Titan, and this dude’s flying towards it at top speed, with no way to stop himself or change direction in time. He’s about to be impaled by a blade. Considering the danger he’s just placed Levi in, then, it truly is a testament to Levi’s goodness, that he launches off the tree he’s stopped on, racing ahead and slicing the stray blade free before the other soldier can make contact, resulting in him harmlessly crashing into the pad, instead of dying. This really shows how Levi’s first instinct is always to help others. Even when others have just not only treated him badly, but even endangered his life. He doesn’t owe this soldier anything, and by all rights should be extremely pissed at him for his petty display before. But instead Levi just automatically reacts to his life being threatened by saving the man. He doesn’t even scold him afterward or express anger, just flies off and continues the course.

What makes this whole thing kind of sad is both the soldier’s and Flagon’s reaction to this. The soldier is still angry and upset over Levi’s superior ability, wondering how he can be so fast, not even sparring a thought of appreciation for him just saving his life. And then Flagon grudgingly admits to Levi’s fighting prowess, but continues to doubt him and his ability to stay disciplined. Even after saving one of his own men’s lives, he still continues to look down on Levi. That’s pretty messed up. Levi glares back at him after, as if to say “Who’s the one who’s going to get people killed out there?”. Levi saved a soldiers life, while Flagon could only sit and watch. It’s interesting too how this, tragically, foreshadows what’s to come though, with Levi not being able to save the people he cares the most about. But we’ll get into that when we get there.

Also, just gotta mention also the way Levi reacts to Isabel’s getting upset after he bonks her in the head and calls her stupid. He looks surprised when she starts crying, and it’s clear he didn’t mean to actually hurt her feelings, and it’s just really sweet, the way he rubs her head after. He obviously felt bad.

Okay, into chapter 4 next!

#attack on titan #No Regrets #Levi Ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #Furlan Church #isabel magnolia #Erwin Smith #snk analysis

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dream-a-little-bigger-darling000 · 4 years ago

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Author’s note: Hello! I’m back! Mid terms just ended, so I’m really hoping I can write more on this blog. I know I don’t put out super great content, but I do try, and at least someone liked it! I was recently asked to write a part two for my short fic for Tommy Conlon, and I thought ‘why not?’’ So that’s where we are. If you could check out that story first, it might make a little more sense. Hit me up if you enjoy this, I rely heavily on affirmation to survive.

Prompt: *My BabyBooBear helped me come up up with this* You’ve been texting Tommy for a while now, and you two have been trying to set up a date, but it seems like every time you’re about to meet, he makes another excuse. It’s starting to look like you should take the L, untiiiiiiiil....

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Another sigh blows out through your nose. Your favorite coworker glares at the sound from across the room.

“For the love of all that is holy. Please. Stop. Sulking.” Your coworker seethes. But you just shrug your shoulders.

“Sure, I’ll just sit over here and think about the man of my dreams falling right through my fingers in silence.” You don’t mean to sound so snarky, especially at the one coworker that’s been tolerating your attitude lately. But your thoughts drift back to the dilemma at hand. Quite literally, since your phone is in your hand, and that’s been the problem. More specifically, the lack of activity on your phone. You suppress the sigh this time.

“I just don’t understand! We click just fine! Our conversations always seem so easy, and he texts back just fine.” Your voice echoes across the empty shop from your place slumped against the wall. You take another bite of your sandwich. “It’s finding a good time for him to go out that’s the problem.” Your voice is muffled from the bread stuffed in your mouth.

Your coworker snorts and shakes her head. “Listen babe, I hate to break it to you, but have you ever heard the phrase ‘he’s just not that into you?’” Even from across the room your coworker can see your face drop.

“Ah, shit Y/N, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I just...” She sighs herself, and strides to the spot you’re taking your break and leans against the wall. “What I meant to say, is you should stop wasting your time on some boy you met once, like, two weeks ago?” You nod miserably. “Two weeks ago, that’s never able to meet up with you! You deserve so much better than that!”

Silence blankets the room as you think about what your coworker said. She’s right, it’s not like you don’t know that. You start to nod your head as you work through it, and your coworker starts to smile. You do deserve more than some good conversations all throughout the day, and no matter how nice the guy was, or how tall he was, or how much he kind of smelled good (not that you would know), or how toned he was, or how you’ve never seen softer eyes in your entire life-

Your phone buzzes. You almost drop your sandwich in your haste to unlock it.

Your coworker makes a guttural sound and pushes off the wall. “You’re impossible. Your break ended three minutes ago, get off your ass and help clean.”

~~~

As you walk home, your eyes continue to be glued to the screen, and your face is starting to hurt from how much you’re smiling. Tommy’s been texting you since you were at work, which always left you feeling restless through the day, like you had to always keep moving. He had a way of doing that to you, like you couldn’t wait for his next response. It wasn’t like you could help it, he was so funny, and you two would text each other endlessly, usually about nothing and everything and the spots in between. It was as easy as breathing, and there was even that night you face timed together. But you longed to be beside him, in person.

Your face did a funny thing when you remember his excuses about work. He had been dodging the question for awhile now, and at first you had just thought it was a product of his shyness, but lately your coworkers assumption had been ringing in your ears.

Another alert brought your attention back to your phone, and you couldn’t help but smile. Tommy was telling you, in great detail, about his latest trip for work, which he seemed to take a lot of. Currently, he was barraging you with texts about a particularly bad Uber experience, when all of the sudden if felt like you were smacked by a wall. Ass, meet concrete.

“Oh, damn. Oh! Damn! Are you alright? I was texting and walking at the same time, ah, I apologize are you- Y/N?” You suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. That also could have been the very real urge to cry though, because you just knocked yourself into a wall, and now you were hearing Tommy’s voice.

You look up against your better judgement, and sure enough, the sweetest face you’ve ever seen is staring down at you in shock.

A choked laugh finds it’s way out of your mouth. “Oh hey, that’s convenient...” You look down at yourself, still sprawled on the sidewalk. “Or, I guess inconvenient...” you mumble.

A surprised snort passes through Tommy’s lips while he hurries to help pick you up off the ground. “Are you sure you’re ok? I feel like an ass, I was so focused on texting... well, ha, you.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. You hum a soft laugh as you brush yourself off, looking at him like you were star struck. Which, let’s face it, you were gone for the man.

“No! No it’s fine, I was basically in the same boat.” You two laugh awkwardly, and he shuffles his feet, looking down at the distance between you and him. Which is when you notice it.

“Tommy!” you choke out. He startles, looks up to your face and then around your surroundings to see what might have triggered that reaction from you. “Your face!” You’re beautiful face, you thought, but decided against that particular adjective. “What happened to you?” your voice smoothed to something more gentle, and reached up to cradle his face. He looked like he was about to flinch away, but it was too late, and your hand made contact with his lower jaw. His very bruised lower jaw. As soon as your hand cupped around his face, his eye lids fluttered, and he seemed to lean more into your touch.

“Tommy, love, really, tell me what happened. You look like you got into a fight!” His lips pulled up a little, and his eyes slit open. He looked content with your hand still holding his face, as if not a lot of people were able to do this. Staring up into those eyes, you noticed the now dark blotches around his nose and left eye, and your brow pulled down even more. “Oh Tommy, darling. Where have you been? Is this from working? Why haven’t you wanted to see me... or, d-do you even want to see me...?”

Questions rose up inside you, unable to come out all at once. You’ve wanted to ask him for so long, but were afraid of disrupting the balance of your conversations. But now, looking up at him, at his wounded face, you can longer hold them in. The need to see what you two were and where this could go were too strong to ignore any longer.

He gave you a lopsided smile, those full lips almost distracting you from the matter at hand. Almost. His eyes seemed sad. He looked around, appearing as if he just now realized you both were still standing in the middle of a sidewalk, and started to pull you to a bench nearby. “Come here, come sit with me. I guess I knew this would go down soon anyway. “ He shrugged and cleared his throat, flopping down on the bench. He reached up, tugging the sleeve of your hoodie as you stared down at him in confusion. You flopped down next to him.

“I- Ok. Let me start off by saying I really like you.” His eyes were earnest, and he was still gripping your sleeve like a life line. You gave him an encouraging smile.

“I really like you too.” He smiled widely and looked down, looking even more bashful.

“That’s great, but I mean. I really really like you. I think we could,” he stopped, looking to you with searching eyes, and shrugged. “I think I could see us with.. some kind of future.” You smiled at that. He let out a long sigh. “Which is why I’ve been avoiding you. You see, Y/N, I have a very, let’s say different, career choice, and not a lot of the women I’ve been interested in have been exactly supportive of it.” He looks over at you to make sure you weren’t gathering yourself to leave. You gave him an even sweeter smile and his breath stuttered.

“I didn’t want to lose you was all. So I thought if I kept it from you, I could talk to you a little longer. If that makes sense.”

You roll your eyes. “Not really, but I understand that people do stupid stuff to prevent the loss of someone.” you teased. You bumped his shoulder against his, and he exhaled a laugh, nodding. “But I would appreciate it if you were more open with me, Tommy. I wasn’t lying when I said I really like you. I think you’ll find I’m very supportive.” You gave a playful wink, earning yourself another exhale.

He heaved another sigh. “I fight. For money.” He wouldn’t look at you. “I didn’t say anything because a while ago it caused some problems in my brothers marriage. Not that we’re married, or that I’m thinking about marrying you-” He was obviously overthinking. You’re mouth ticked up and you bumped his shoulder again, but this time staying in his space.

“Is that all? Damn, I was hoping you were some sort of CIA spy or something. In fact, I’m a little disappointed.” You gave him a pout. He laughed, sounding a little disbelieving.

“What, you’re ok with it?” You tilted your head and shrugged a shoulder.

“Well, sure. Like I said, infinitely more boring that a spy, but I suppose I can look past that.” you continued your act. He rolled his eyes, laughing.

“Wha- what are you even talking about.” He still hasn’t stopped smiling, but he’s looking back at you, and he doesn’t seem as tense. “Are you sure you’re ok with me getting into physical altercations, for money, going out in public with you, looking like this, and going on long trips?” He raised an eyebrow. You matched his expression.

“Will you promise to be careful, and buy me more candy bars with the money you earn from matches, and to hold my hand when we’re in public, and to take me with you so no pretty little things catch your attention away from home?” You mocked his serious tone. He looked baffled for a second, only staring at you for what seemed like way too long before his gaze broke away to your lips, back to your eyes. Your lips quirked up, breaking your serious expression. A grin broke across his face.

“We’ll have to talk about the hand holding you”

“That’s not the deal!”

“It’s what broke the deal, I can’t be seen like that, it’ll break my tough look, it breaks the illusion-”

“Pfffffft, you? Looking tough? Absolutely not, you’ll hold my hand in public or I’ll just have to go find a dashing spy who will-” You let out a squeal as he gets up and scoops you in his arms, spinning you few times before setting you down. The advantages of having a boyfriend who fights professionally doesn’t get lost on you in that moment. You both settle, your hands on his chest, his hands on your waist.

“You said you like me, that’s gross.”

“We’re in 5th grade now? That’s real mature Tom-” He leans down, catching your lips carefully. Testing out the waters, seeing if you were going to pull away. One hand glides up his chest around to the back of his neck, sifting through the hairs there. You feel the tremor that slides through him. You move your lips, only a little, and just as he begins to reciprocate, you pull back. You feel like you’re moving through molasses, looking up at him through your eyelashes, and you offer a smile. He accepts it, giving you one back, and sinks back down to give you a feather light peck.

“I think I should buy you dinner.” His voice is barely at a whisper, and his eyes haven’t stopped roving over your face.

“I think that’s in order.” You make no moves to leave this space you’ve created.

“But I also have dinner at my apartment.” His eyes have dropped back to your lips again. They’re not leaving. Your cheeks feel warm, and you break out into a grin.

“Whaddya know, isn’t that convenient?” You finally pull away to begin the walk.

#tommy conlon #tomhardy #warrior #tommy conlon x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #tommy riordan

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

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The other end of the spectrum

I don’t think I’ve written for any av besides Tyson, but don’t worry, he’s in this fic, I just kinda had to. But this was requested like a decade ago (no exaggeration there since you know I’ve had my account for about a year), and I still have three (maybe ?) more to work through. That being said, though, because I suck, Teach me something 3 is probably going to be dropping v soon since that is almost done.

Again, ignore typos (or point them out be like ummm excuse me)

I hope you like it! -------------------------

Should you be skating with your AirPods in? It wasn’t something that you had ever tried before, but it might be worth a shot now, right? But they were expensive, what if they flew out of your ears during your Biellmann spin, or while you’re trying to land your triple axel and ended up breaking on impact when they hit the ice? What if they fell out and someone skated over them? You could argue that whoever did that would have to buy you new ones, but you really weren’t that type of person to do something like that. Maybe, you could just try with something slow and see how they felt?

If only the rink weren’t open to everyone right now. Then you could lose yourself in the music of your routine like you did every time you were on the ice alone. You couldn’t make everyone get off the ice, either. Free skate was just that: free. There were parents with their children teaching them how to skate, some teenagers messing around on the ice, laughing, and making fun of how they look with their shorts and skates since it was the middle of the summer. None of them seemed to realize beforehand that the rink would still be cold since it was, you know, ice. One guy seemed to catch your interest: the only one skating around with a puck and a hockey stick. Hockey players and figure skaters were the exact opposite of the skating spectrum; you were all about delicacy and grace, hockey players were brash, crude, and rough. You were even on the ‘rougher’ side of a figure skater, and that only meant that you swore a little too much and didn’t really have an indoor voice. And yet, you were still infinitely more elegant than any hockey player you had ever encountered.

Whatever. You had managed to be on one end of the ice while it seemed like everyone else besides hockey boy was on the other. If you started your routine or even just practiced some of the elements of the routine that you knew you needed to work on, maybe that would get him to go to the other end. Sure, it wasn’t completely fair, but, hey, it’s worked before.

The AirPods were going to stay in, you decide, praying that nothing happens to the small expensive things in your ear. You start your routine, drowning out the sounds of the other skaters and letting the music fill your head. You close your eyes, not fully doing each element as you imagine a crowd around you. Competitions used to terrify you; the idea of a bunch of people holding their breath every time you did any sort of jump to let out a gasp if you fell or faltered, people averting their eyes if you had any sort of wardrobe malfunction that wouldn’t necessarily hurt your ability to skate, but would definitely hurt your ability to earn points from the judges, the overall sense of being watched was enough to almost make you quit the sport altogether. Now, it’s just natural, not being able to skate unless you know someone was watching you.

And someone was. Hockey boy, of all people, had stopped what he was doing with his stick and puck, standing against the boards, mesmerized by your fluid movements. He could tell that you weren’t doing everything to completion, but there was something about the way you seemed to take control of the ice that he couldn’t help but just stare at you. Your eyes were closed, it looked like you were muttering to yourself. Your hair was in a bun perched messily on top of your head, random strands framing your face seemingly perfectly. Who were you?

You decide to practice your camel spin; something that you were struggling with was making sure your leg was parallel, so might as well try now. You knew how it felt when it was right, you just had to actually get it right. Your music hits the place in your routine where you start to gear up for it, looking around you and seeing that you have open ice, you go for it. You do the move going right into it without problem. You can feel your leg just out of place as you speed up into the camel spin, not quite there. The music surrounds you in your AirPods, until one of them goes flying out. You stop your spin, trying to orient yourself and figure out where the small white ear piece went on the ice.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, scanning the ice to see if you can find it. If someone skates over it, you were going to throw a fit. Not at them, of course, because it was your own damn fault for wearing them in the first place, but a fit nonetheless.

“I think this is yours?” a deep voice comes from behind you. You spin around to see the hockey player standing in front of you, AirPod in hand. He almost looks nervous to be standing in front of you.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you say, taking it from him and putting it back in. The music fills your ears again, only to realize that his mouth was moving. “Sorry?” you say, pausing the music so you can hear him.

“Oh, uh, I was just saying that what you just did looked really good.” His eyes dart between you and the ice, shifting his weight between his skates as he runs his hands through his hair. There was no way a hockey player could be this nervous in front of you. While you weren’t frail, you weren’t exactly made of pure muscle. People could tell you did some dainty sport just by looking at you.

“Um, thanks. It wasn’t right, though,” you admit, looking at your phone to try to get back to where that move came in the music.

“What do you mean?”

Was he actually interested? He could have skated away already if he weren’t and you were about to start talking to someone else to get rid of him, nor were you going to try to be rude to him. “My leg is supposed to be parallel to the ice when it’s in the air, and it wasn’t. For some reason, I’m struggling getting it up.”

You look at each other, both blushing at the unintentionally sexual thing you had just said, “I’m willing to ignore how bad that sounded if you are.” Neither of you can help your laughter, but wow, he had a really nice laugh.

“Can I help you in any way?” he offers, putting his stick down against the boards.

“Uh, just watch me I guess? See if it looks like my leg is parallel or not?” you suggest. He nods, backing up to give you space after you hand him your phone with your music playing. You go on with the move, knowing that it didn’t feel right. “I have done this element hundreds of times, and yet in this rountine, I can’t get my leg parallel.”

“I mean, it looked parallel,” he says, skating back to you. You scrunch your face, obviously frustrated. Maybe you didn’t know how it felt when it was parallel? Or maybe you had stretched differently? No, you knew exactly how it felt. Maybe he didn’t know what parallel was. “I could help in any way you need me to, I just don’t know what I would do,” he spits out, his voice shaking again. Was he really nervous to be around you? Since when was a figure skater more confident than a hockey player?

“No, it’s fine, but thanks. I see my coach tomorrow, so I’ll have her check it out,” you shrug, bothered by the fact that you can’t get a simple move.

You start to skate away, muttering a goodbye when hockey boy speaks up, “Wait! Are you going?”

“I was going to. I’ve kind of been here all day working on my routine, so I was going to go grab food.”

“Maybe you’d like some company,” he asks, shuffling his weight between each skate, looking down at the ice. He brings his eyes up to meet yours, a smile on his face as his face turns red in anticipation of your answer.

“I don’t know if I should be going out with someone who hasn’t even told me his name,” you say, watching his face go from horror to relief.

“I’m Nate.”

“Well, Nate, where do you want to go?”

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Nate walked up to the Pepsi Center, feeling weird that he wasn’t in a suit and carrying a cup of coffee, but a bouquet of flowers, dressed in a normal t-shirt and jeans and also using the same entrance as everyone else.

“Do you even like figure skating?” Ryan asks, him and Tyson trailing behind Nate as they struggle to keep up with Nate’s anxiously fast-paced walking.

“I think he likes his girl more,” Tyson says. “Hey, man. Slow down.”

Nate didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t over seeing you; you had been dating for nearly four months now. He might be more nervous about seeing you perform in general. You weren’t nervous about the competition and for some reason, it made him nervous; sympathy nerves? Were those a thing?

“She’s going to be fine, you know that, right? You said you’ve watched her practice this routine like a million times or something?” Tyson asks, hoping that it’ll calm him down. Nate didn’t even get this nervous when they were about to play a game. They were about to play game seven of a playoff game last season and Nate was the calmest guy in the room.

“I know, I know. She’s just been struggling with that camel spin since the day we met and her coach said that she was doing it fine and I said that she was doing fine but she didn’t think she was doing fine, and-” he rambles as the boys try to find their way to their seats.

“Dude. You’re not the one performing. Calm down,” Ryan says.

“I just want her to do well,” he says, shaking his leg, driving Ryan crazy. Tyson didn’t care much, but he just couldn’t figure out why his teammate was this nervous.

“She’s going to be fine,” Tyson reassures him, hoping that that was enough.

Nate’s leg kept shaking the entire time. They watched routine after routine: men’s short, pairs, ice dance, no one he knew since it was a United States competition and he had no idea who even came to these things. The only reason he remembered figure skating existed at this point was because of you.

You were waiting your turn to perform, running through your routine in the back area they had set up for the skaters to warm up, practice, stretch, calm down, do whatever they needed to do without pulling a Tonya Harding. Your coach was watching you intently, not nagging you enough to stress you out, but enough that you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the trivial things she was telling you. You already knew what you needed to do, and at this point, so close to you stepping on the ice, nothing in your routine was going to change unless someone hit you with a bat.

It’s your turn, all the nerves you thought you would be feeling melting away. “You’ve got this,” your coach says before pretty much shoving you on the ice.

You hear your name called over the speakers, waiting for the judges to give them the alright for the music to start and your routine to begin.

“Yeah, Y/N!” you hear three voices call, trying to be in unison, but just off enough that you could make out one of the voices: Nate. You didn’t even know he was coming. You can’t help but smile, a real genuine smile, unlike the practically forced one you normally had on when you were performing.

The music starts, you going through your routine like it was second nature. Knowing Nate was there made the routine feel so easy; every move you did felt right, the crowd seemed to be on their feet, not that you even paid much attention to them. You had no idea where Nate even was in the stands, not bothering to look for him until your routine was done. You wave to the crowd, everyone cheering, you hearing your coach screaming from the side. You find Nate, Ryan, and Tyson, excited to see them after the competition was over.

“That was amazing kid! You looked like you went to a whole other place while you were on the ice!” your coach boasts. You forgot you were even actually skating a competition for a moment there, “That might be a winning routine right there.”

You hadn’t even thought about winning, you just needed a high enough score to be invited to the next competition. It was the road to nationals, the road to the national team for the next world championships. But winning? That would be amazing, and definitely help your case for the national team.

You and your coach sit down, waiting for your score. You scan the audience, trying to orient yourself and find the boys again. Ryan looked like he was there because he had to be, which was fine; he didn’t really strike you as the type to want to go to a figure skating competition. Tyson seemed like he was enjoying himself, for the most part, maybe he actually liked the routines. But then there was Nate. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you, even when you were just sitting down, pretending to listen to your coach ramble on about the next competition. You couldn’t believe he would come and surprise you like this. Or that he would not only make two of his teammates come, but also make them yell your name like they were teenage girls about to see their favorite boyband.

The score was in, you were just waiting for the judges to announce it. This was the part you hated the most: the waiting. You were one of the last skaters, so whatever place this put you in was probably going to be your standing, maybe one place lower. Your score was in: five points higher than the next. “Holy shit!” you say, your coach hugging you as you sit there shocked.

“That’s first place! That’s first fucking place!” Nate starts screaming, Tyson and Ryan trying to get him to calm his excitement down, especially since there were children around. He couldn’t help it; his girlfriend probably just secured first place at the competition, especially after he watched her struggling with the routine in the days leading up to it.

The next few skaters go, coming close to your score, but none of them really able to break it. There was one more skater, a girl who’s made the national team for the last four years in a row. If you came in second to her, you wouldn’t be that mad about it.

She does her routine, you watching on the TV in the back while you know your phone was blowing up with texts from Nate. He knew that you wouldn’t look at it until the end of the competition, but that didn’t stop him from sending texting you about his excitement anyway.

‘You were amazing’

‘I’m so proud of you!’

‘We’re going out after to celebrate’

‘But if you can’t tonight then we will tomorrow after the game’

The other skater finished the routine, she looked a little shaky in Nate’s opinion, but then again, what did he know. He was just so proud of you. “So after this, if Y/N can, do you guys want to come with us for a little celebration?” he askes Ryan and Tyson.

“Something tells me this celebration should be just the two of you,” Tyson says.

“Yeah, I really don’t want to be involved in whatever it is you guys are going to do,” Ryan adds.

“You guys don’t have to be gross,” Nate says.

The score came in for the last skater: Y/N had a score 0.04 points higher than her.

You came in first place. You couldn’t believe it. Your coach practically lifted you off the ground, you were speechless, Nate was losing his shit in the stands. You couldn’t wait until after the medal ceremony for you to go see Nate.

After you get your medal, congratulate the other skaters, and finally gather your things, the only thing on your mind was finding Nate, knowing that he had already waited for so long. “Nate!” you squeal when you see him, tossing your bag to Tyson, causing him to accidentally fall into Ryan as Nate picks you up off the ground, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you.

“Get a room,” Ryan mutters playful under his breath as you two pull away blushing. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in protest, “only get one if you both want to.”

You can’t help but laugh as Tyson tries to hit him with your bag. “God, Y/N, I thought hockey bags were heavy, what do you have in here?” He asks, handing it off to Nate.

“Costumes, skates, tights, warm-up clothes, headphones, makeup, hair stuff,” you start to list off, Nate throwing his arm around you as the four of your start to walk, “I think I have a mirror in there, some books.”

“Books?” Nate asks.

“What? We have a lot of free time,” you shrug. “But I’m curious: did you bring those flowers for one of your boys?” you tease him.

“Yeah, they’re for Ryan for not pouting the entire time,” he jokes, sending Tyson into a fit of laughter while Ryan punches him in the arm. Nate hands you the bouquet filled with sunflowers and roses, your favorite flowers. “These, I hope obviously, are for you.”

“I love them,” you beam, stretching up to kiss him on the cheek. “You had mentioned going out tonight? Are you two coming, too?”

“Nope, we’re going home,” Ryan says, jingling his keys in your face.

“I was hoping to get a ride with you?” Nate asks, “Ryan drove the three of us here.”

“Sure, where to?”

“His house,” Ryan says, Tyson smacking him in the chest. “What! They could order food and be in private that is a perfectly reasonable suggestion!” Tyson pulls him away before he can say anything else, Ryan defending him while Tyson just tells him to quit while he’s behind since he has no chance of getting ahead.

“Interesting choice of teammates to bring,” you tell him as his free hand intertwines in yours.

He shrugs, walking with you to his car, “They were the only ones who I could convince to come.”

“What did you have to promise them?”

“I may or may not have to tie their skates for a few games,” he says, throwing your bag in the back seat as the two of you climb into your car.

“You did that for me?” you say, pretending to swoon to make him laugh.

“I think we’ve established that I would do almost anything for you.”

“Great, because I need to go rob a bank real quick,” you joke, getting another laugh out of him as you pull away from Pepsi Center and head towards his place.

In the middle of his laugh, you hear him let out, “I love you.” His eyes go wide with shock, surprised he just let that slip. He had planned on telling you how he felt soon, but not like this. Not on some night in your car on your way home from a competition.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him starting to freak out over what he just said. That was the first time you had heard him say it, but you knew he meant it. “You do?” you ask anyway, not bothering to hide the smile on your face.

“Well, uh, yeah,” he says, trying to calm himself down. Great. Now he was more nervous than he was before you did the routine. “You don’t have to say it back, I don’t know where you stand and I definitely don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you into saying it or anything,” he starts to ramble.

“Oh, be quiet jitters,” you say, cutting him off before he takes it back altogether, “I love you, too.”

#nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagines #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche #avalanche imagine #ryan graves #tyson jost #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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akvtsuki-ari · 5 years ago

Text

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader

Length: 5.3k

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part.

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately.

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks.

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM

M / F / O

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things.

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment*

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc.

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way.

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second.

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?," You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #so nervous abt uploading this lol

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

Text

From A Whisper To A Scream (7/10)

Summary: Michael caves.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: syringes, blood, etc

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

ao3

Coach pulled Michael aside after debatably the worst game of his life.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

Michael stared at him, blinking slowly as he tried to reorient his mind. Ever since he discovered that Eff was really a Manes, that this “family business” they had was torturing aliens, he hadn’t been functioning very well. It’d only gotten worse after Alex called him out and Michael couldn’t tell him no, suddenly having to balance a very hush-hush relationship on top of everything else. He adored him, but fuck. Now he was just paranoid and tired. That was it. Everything else, every other feeling or brain wave, fell to the wayside because he didn’t have the energy.

That meant playing a shitty game of football where he nearly broke his nose from tripping over the ball.

“I’m just… off day,” Michael said, avoiding eye contact as he took out his mouthguard. He then moved to start taking off his jersey and his shoulder pads. He usually wouldn’t do that while in the middle of the conversation with his Coach, but they felt ridiculously heavy and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay upright with them.

“Off month, more like it,” Coach said, eyeing him, “You know you’re my responsibility, right?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he said. Michael stayed silent. He couldn’t tell him what was actually going on and he didn’t have the brainpower to come up with a good lie. “Is this about anything that happened with your whole… coming out process? You’d tell me if any of the guys were messing with you, wouldn’t you? And if it’s your dad that ain’t responding well, then I can have a talk with him too.”

Michael blinked at him and it took him a few seconds to realize he had tears in his eyes. It wasn’t even a heartfelt speech, it was just too much. Too much to know another person cared about him enough to say something, too much to know that his list of people who would be hurt by his stupidity was a bit longer. He was beginning to think that maybe he should just tell everyone he was an alien so they’d stop giving a shit about him.

“It’s fine, I’m just off. Distracted,” Michael said. Coach didn’t look satisfied.

“You got scouts out there,” he said, “So you better stop being distracted.”

And that sounded a lot more like Coach.

When Michael walked out to his truck, he found that it was already preoccupied. It wasn’t too uncommon for him to find a Manes in his passenger seat. This just happened to be the Manes he was dreading.

“I thought you were good,” Eff said as Michael carefully climbed into the driver’s seat. It felt like a trick, but maybe he could drive off a cliff and fix everything. Ah, but that was just wishful thinking.

“I am,” Michael said, “Usually.”

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before you tried to corrupt my baby brother,” Eff said. Michael stared out the window and made a point not to say anything about how Eff had been screwing him over before he realized he was with Alex. He seemed to momentarily forget that this had all started because Michael was born. That was it.

“Shed?”

“Yep.”

Michael stayed silent through the drive as he had been these days. For a while there, he’d sort of accepted his fate and was starting to be a bit more talkative. Hell, he’d even gotten to a point where he thought Eff might give a shit about his well being. Now he knew that was just wishful thinking. Every conversation they had that may have given the illusion that Eff didn't hate him was just a figment of his imagination.

“Is your dad gonna question where you are?” Eff asked. Is yours? Michael thought.

“No,” he said instead.

Eff huffed a laugh, “My dad would kick my ass if I showed up later than I said.” It almost felt childish at that point, like Eff was trying to get him in trouble with his dad. It was so stupid.

The longer Michael drove, the more he thought that perhaps he shouldn’t be driving. His eyes were heavy and each blink seemed harder to come out of. Still, he somehow made it to the shed without driving off the road.

They entered the shed in silence and Michael sat on his chair-of-hell where all of his injections and electrocutions took place. Maybe whatever Eff had in store would wake him up.

“Here,” Eff said. Michael lulled his head to the side to look at him, seeing him holding out an energy drink that had already been opened.

“Did you poison it or something?” Michael asked. Eff laughed softly.

“No, just drink it,” he said. Michael hesitantly accepted it and took a sip, deciding that if it was poisoned he wouldn’t really care. Eff sat down across from him and stared at him for a moment. Somehow, it was infinitely less uncomfortable than all the times Michael looked over his shoulder in school and expected to see him there when he wasn’t. “Look, I hate even saying this, but credit where credit is due. I appreciate you ending shit with my brother. Alex is great, I get it, and it took balls to break up with him when I know he probably didn't make it easy."

Michael felt a bit frozen in his spot. That was an understatement. Such a massive understatement that Michael hadn't been able to pull it off at all.

"I don't like knowing that aliens have, like, feelings and shit," Eff continued, looking to the side as if this conversation was just that unbearable. And he had no idea how unbearable it was for Michael himself. "But I do know you care about him which I can respect. But that shit's not safe, not with you being what you are and not with my dad being who he is. You get that, don't you?"

"Why does it feel like you're being nice to me?" Michael asked. He was beginning to wonder if he really had no self-preservation skills at all. Eff rolled his eyes.

"You just picked the wrong guy. I wanted to keep Alex away from all this," Eff elaborated, "So pick someone else."

Somehow, as genuine as he sounded, it still felt like a low blow. Michael couldn't pick someone else. Even if he had broken up with Alex, even if he never liked him in the first place, he was still a personal experiment for Eff. Anyone who got close to him wasn't safe. So that was that.

"Yeah," Michael said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Michael sipping tiredly on his drink and Eff just watching him like he was trying to decide where to start. Who knew what kind of shit he had up his sleeve that he hadn't done yet.

Eff eventually stood up in silence and Michael's eyes followed him, watching him open up the small mini-fridge and pull out a vile of something. Dread pooled in Michael's stomach. He wasn't sure what Eff had dosed him with that time where it had him fucked up for a solid week, but he wasn't interested in a repeat.

"When's the last time you slept?" Eff asked. Michael shrugged because he didn't have a proper answer. He slept all the time, but he wasn't sure the 10-minute sleep session due to sheer exhaustion before he woke himself up in a panic actually counted as sleep. "Yeah, that's a problem. This is gonna help you sleep."

"Here?" Michael asked, eyes widening just a little.

"Does it look like I have a place for you to sleep? Take it and I'll take you home, it should kick in by the time you get to bed and it'll knock you out for, like, eight hours," Eff said. Michael didn't have the energy to say no. Sleeping for eight hours straight sounded amazing.

He turned his head as Eff rolled up his sleeve and wiped the spot of his arm like he was actually concerned for him. He stuck him with a syringe and Michael could feel the moment it started to set in.

"I'm driving," Eff said as if that wasn't already obvious.

Michael tried to stand to his feet, but he felt woozy and held onto the chair to steady himself. Eff eventually stepped up to him and grabbed his arm, carrying the brunt of his weight.

"Jesus, what did my brother see in you?"

Eff got him into the passenger side of his truck and closed the door and Michael couldn't find it in himself to care that Eff was driving his truck. He was just tired.

The drive home passed in a blur and Michael felt himself being pulled out of his truck before he could even register it. He leaned on Eff without thought and let himself be all but carried inside and placed in bed by the man who had made it his goal to torture him. He was covered up and his keys were placed on his desk and the doors were all locked back.

Michael fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, Michael was left running over the night before in his head.

Truly, none of it made sense. Eff wasn't just empathetic like he'd been on occasions when he realized Michael had feelings, he'd actually been kind. Was it his small payback for Michael ending things with Alex? Was it something else entirely? He probably wouldn't get an answer.

Michael stayed in bed for a while, letting his mind torture him with too many thoughts as he tried to analyze Eff's actions. It didn't work. And, in fact, the sleep didn't help him feel any better. It just made him alert enough to be back to panicking. There were so many things that could and would go bad. He was on borrowed time. Before he knew it, shit would hit the fan and he just wasn't excited for that.

Sanders kept quiet, just watching him and making sure he didn't become a disaster before his eyes. The day slid by at an agonizing pace. But it was fine.

He texted Alex a little bit--through an app instead of on his actual phone which had taken more than a little convincing than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't about to risk Eff finding out.

Alex: you ignoring me again?

Michael: no, how could I?

Alex: big talk coming from you

Michael: :(

Alex: when can I see you? I feel like I've earned at least a couple blowjobs

Alex: payback for being a dick to me

Michael: I'll do whatever you want. Maybe we can meet up somewhere tomorrow night?

Alex: my dad isn't going to be home until Tuesday just sneak in

Michael: idk if that's a good idea

Alex: okay.

Michael: don't be mad

Alex: not mad, all I said was okay

Michael: which is code for mad.

Alex: okay.

Michael: I'll see what I can do. I miss you

Alex: I miss you too

And it was fine. Alex got a little less upset and it was fine. Or it was until he got a text from Eff. All it said was: Rest. Tomorrow is a full-day affair. And that was enough to scare the shit out of him.

He didn't know what classified as a full-day affair to Eff, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. It was going to be a day of misery. How many more things could he get through and survive it?

As much as he tried to rest, it didn't work. Michael was nervous and dreading whatever was to come. By the time morning came around once again and that car was outside waiting for him, Michael hadn't slept.

"Are you ready?" Eff asked as he mindlessly climbed into the passenger seat. He took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"Michael. Michael, wake up."

There were very few times in Michael's life where he'd describe himself as overworked. Out of all of those times, he'd never drained himself to the point that he passed out. He supposed there was a first time for everything.

When his eyes slowly dragged open, he was more than a little surprised to see Eff over him and almost looking concerned. It almost had him laughing if he wasn't so disoriented.

"You can't fucking die on me yet," Eff said once he opened his eyes. Michael didn't move. His body felt weak and he was pretty sure his muscles had melted into the ground. He wanted to go home.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You've only been doing shit for a couple of hours, you've strained yourself more than this before. That sedative I gave you on Friday shouldn't still be in your system," Eff said. He grabbed Michael's arms and hauled him into a sitting position, but Michael couldn't hold his own weight up and Eff eventually let him lay back down. "What are you good for if you're just going to let yourself be this useless?"

Michael's eyes slid closed and he tried to think of anything except for this.

He expected more scolding, more yelling, possibly an injection of whatever sort of wild alien steroid he had today. Instead, Eff pressed the back of his hand against Michael’s forehead then to his cheeks. He might’ve opened his eyes to look at him like he’d lost it if he wasn’t so fucking exhausted.

“You’re overheated. Your nose bled a little, but not as much as I would’ve expected before you passed out, so I guess that’s a good thing. We’ll take a break,” Eff said, voice careful. He stood up and walked away, leaving Michael on the floor.

Sometimes, if Michael really thought about it, he wondered if Eff knew that he was basically making him stronger. Yes, draining him in the moment and making him feel weak and out of control, but Michael had never had someone push his limits before when it came to this. Maybe if Michael played nice, he’d be able to overpower him one day, hide the body, and get his normal life back. He could. It was an option.

It was an option. Huh. That was nice.

A hand grabbed the back of Michael’s neck, supporting him as he was dragged into a sitting position once again. That hand stayed there as a cup of water met his lips and he was all but forced to drink. He had a million questions running through his head, all tying back to wondering why the hell Eff was treating him nicely all of the sudden. Maybe he actually felt bad for once. Probably not.

“If you die, my brother will probably be more upset than he already is, so I’m gonna need you to drink,” Eff said dryly. Michael obeyed.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Eff let him rest for a short amount of time before dragging him outside again to push his limits again. A little electrotherapy here, a bit of pinpricks there, and he had Michael throwing shit with his telekinesis over three hundred pounds. Michael would’ve been proud if his body wasn’t aching and his brain wasn’t pointless.

When he finally got to go home and the day settled in, Michael was back to being a mess. Eff was being nice to him. Too nice. He was planning something, he had to be. Was he going to kidnap him anyway? Was this just the beginning of the end, trying to make him trust him?

Michael forgot all about meeting up with Alex until he found himself outside his window which would’ve been a lot less worrisome if he remembered anything in between leaving the shed and ending up there. Even when he tried to remember, he couldn’t.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to come over,” Alex said, leaning against the windowsill and blocking Michael’s way in.

Truthfully, Michael had only been to Alex’s house a total of two times, both just to stop by so Alex could grab something and they didn’t stay long. Now knowing what kind of business his family was in, Michael was glad he hadn’t stayed. And yet, today, all he wanted was to be in Alex’s bed. He was going to get fucked over anyway.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” Michael asked. Any sort of antagonizing Alex had in mind went away and he nodded, moving out of the way. Michael climbed in and nearly fell twice in the process, not even able to laugh it off when he needed Alex’s help.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Michael was pulled into Alex’s arms. His head was cradled against Alex’s shoulder, he was tugged down onto his bed, he was held and he was warm and he was safe. Safe enough. As safe as he would get.

They laid there for a long while, nothing but the sound of their breathing as Alex combed through his hair. Michael faded in and out of consciousness at the sensation, secretly hoping to just let his mind fade away forever into the feeling. That would be a good way to go.

But, then again, he couldn’t have anything nice.

“Michael,” Alex whispered, “When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Michael didn’t respond, but his grip on Alex tightened a little and that seemed to be all Alex needed to know there was, in fact, something going on. He readjusted himself a little and touched Michael’s cheek. It took a few seconds to successfully get him to meet his eyes.

“I’m not stupid. Something’s been going on, but I’ve stayed quiet. How much longer are you gonna leave me having to assume? Because my assumptions are getting wilder,” Alex said, trying to tease a little to lighten the mood.

The issue was the truth was wild. How do you tell your boyfriend you’re actually an alien from the 1940s and you’re currently being used as an experiment by his big brother who he loves? Alex would laugh in his face or just leave him. Or maybe Eff was wrong and Alex did know and Alex would start experimenting on him too. He could take a lot, but he didn’t think he could take that.

Michael sniffled and focused on Alex’s collarbone, reaching out to touch it. He ran his fingers over it a few times and hoped Alex would just drop it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Alex said softly, “But you know you can trust me, don’t you? I’m not going to hate you or be disgusted by you or anything. I might even be able to help?”

Michael’s throat began to tighten and he swallowed hard. He thought about Eff and his weird niceness and how he’d probably make him disappear soon, how Michael probably didn’t have much time left with Alex at all. How did he get in the position where he once had all the time in the world to having none at all?

He dragged his hand up to touch Alex’s lips. They were as soft as always and his breath was warm against his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the last time he kissed him. Hell, he could barely remember the last time they’d been able to spend this much time together in person. Then again, this had been one of the longest weeks of his life. Longest few months. Or, just nothing before it felt real.

Michael moved up to give him a kiss, one that was hardly a kiss at all and seemed to only be reciprocated because of how long it’d been. Alex broke it seconds after it started, shaking his head.

“Michael,” he whispered, “You‒”

“I love you,” Michael said earnestly.

Alex let out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t have been such a hard thing to say and he probably could’ve said it sooner. He knew most of the people he’d been friends with who said ‘I love you’ within the first month of dating someone‒the first week, even.

This just happened to be a bit more serious than that.

“I’m not saying that because of… I’m saying it because I mean it. Because I don’t know when or if I’ll get to tell you later. I want you to know just in case,” Michael said. Alex’s eyebrows only tugged together more and he scooted closer.

“Just in case? What do you mean? What’s going on?” Alex said, worry lacing his soft and sweet voice. God, he was so good. He couldn’t possibly know. He couldn’t possibly be in on the bullshit his family enacted.

“I should go.”

“What? No, stop,” Alex said, his knee wedging between Michael’s thighs to lock his leg around his at a weak attempt to keep in place. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Michael said, relaxing back into his bed. He was too tired to really try to leave even if he wanted to. And he really, really didn’t.

“It’s obviously not nothing and you’re freaking me out,” Alex said, looking him over, “I was assuming it was something to do with your adoption or something and you were playing it straight for your social worker, but that’s obviously not it.”

Michael sighed and blinked slowly, tempted to just keep his eyes closed. When he opened them again, Alex was just staring at him.

“Next assumption was that you got into drugs. Have you? And if you have, let me help you,” Alex pressed, “Let me and your dad help you. You know he asked me what was wrong with you, right? Like, everyone’s noticed. So, just, like, stop talking like you’re never going to see me again. Let me fix it.”

Michael laughed dryly and turned his face into the pillow before he started crying where Alex could see. What was it with Alex and Sanders both being so eager to fix what they had no hand in? It didn’t make sense.

“Did you like accidentally fuck over a drug dealer or something and that’s why you’ve been staying away from me and distant and paranoid? Because we can go to the police and, and figure it out,” Alex continued, “You’re worrying me and I don’t like it.”

Michael took a few breaths until he could trust that his voice wasn’t going to embarrass him. “I’m not doing or dealing drugs and I haven’t pissed off any drug dealers.”

“Then what is it?”

“What happened to not pushing?” Michael murmured. Alex didn’t respond as he let his head hit the pillow.

They laid in silence for a bit longer, tension between them that wasn’t there before. Michael should just tell him. What was the worst that could happen? He was already living in the worst timeline, he might as well just say it.

But that was easier said than done. It was something he needed to talk to Isobel and Max about‒if he could even talk to Isobel and Max without anything bad happening. The idea of it made him feel like he was being choked. Everything made him feel like that recently.

Alex’s hand suddenly touched the back of his neck and Michael was brutally hit with the comparison to the feeling of his brother’s hand on his neck. Eff was rough and firm while Alex’s touch was soft and warm. He wouldn’t mind if that touch stayed there indefinitely. And it seemed to stay there for a while, simply working into his neck.

When Alex pulled his leg away from Michael’s, he almost broke the silence to say something to keep him there. But Alex was pulling Michael onto his stomach and climbing onto his back before he had the chance. His hands worked into the multitude of weeks worth of tension in his shoulders and his neck, carefully trying to make him pliant under his fingers. Michael wasn’t sure it’d work, but he wasn’t going to tell him no.

The longer that went on, however, the more Michael found himself feeling guilty. He was a shitty boyfriend. He tried to think of the last nice thing he’d done for Alex out of the sea of nice things Alex had done for him. Sure, Michael was going through his own shit, but he was letting Alex worry and pushing him away and then letting Alex take care of him after it all. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he thought about getting Alex for real. It was supposed to be Alex parading around in his letterman jacket, it was supposed to be racking up tardy slips because he was late after blowing Alex in his truck, it was supposed to be good.

And Alex had stayed good. Michael was the one who was fucking him over.

“Alex,” Michael said softly. He hummed in question, pressing into a knot in between his shoulders that nearly had him crying all over again. “Alex, what would you say if I told you the truth?”

Alex paused for just a moment before getting back to it.

“I already told you.”

“Even if I say I’m an alien and there’s a guy who found out and is basically using me as a science experiment and I can’t do anything about it because he’s got military connections and I can’t go to the cops because, again, alien,” Michael said in one breath, half into the pillow. Alex stopped for a much longer moment this time.

“That’s not funny,” Alex said softly.

“I didn’t think it was.”

More silence, more breathing, more waiting. Michael was sure he was going to be thrown out of his house. It was the logical next step.

“Science experiment?” Alex asked slowly. Michael nodded. “Like, cuts you open?”

Michael huffed a laugh, “Not yet, thank god.” Alex didn’t laugh. “Usually sticking needles into pressure points that set off shit in me and electrocution. Sometimes injects me with, like, alien steroid type things.”

“Michael.”

“Could be worse, though, ‘cause he hasn’t cut me open,” Michael said. Alex made a pained little noise and then laid on Michael’s back. It was distinctly different than being kicked out. “Aren’t you freaked out? I’m an alien.”

“I’ve had sex with you and I didn’t find a zipper,” Alex murmured into the back of his neck. Michael breathed a sigh of relief that mixed with a laugh. If more tears came, they met the pillow immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

“Alex, you can’t‒”

“I can,” Alex said firmly, “Give me a few days to come up with something.”

Michael didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Later, he’d find a way to tell Alex that wasn’t an option. Currently, though, he’d stay right here.

Here, he was safe and warm and that’s all he cared about.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: from a whisper to a scream

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halo-jpeg · 5 years ago

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Bro gimmie some Sinclair brother angst

Y e s. I had an idea, so here it is; Getting in a fight with your slasher s/o. Time to cry.

Fighting with your Slasher S/O Headcanons

Michael Myers

Fights with him are brutal. You’ll end up emotionally and sometimes even physically hurt. He has a horrible temper, and doesn’t like to be provoked, so if you provoke him you’re screwed.

He’ll lock his hand around your throat before the fight can escalate too far; simply to get to the punch, to put you in your place and not waste time.

He’s cold-hearted when he’s angry, and he’s terrifying. This is one of the few times he’ll willingly get close to you, and that’s simply to intimidate you.

If you get him to talk, or god-forbid yell at you, you’ve done something horribly, horribly wrong.

Afterwards, he’ll ghost you for days, sometimes even weeks depending on the severity of the fight. You won’t see a glimpse of him until he wants you to. You won’t hear a word, either, but you’ll know he’s there, hating you, because you can feel his eyes on your back and the threatening aura he eminates.

He’s allowed to get mad at you, but you’re not allowed to get mad at him.

Jason Voorhees

He does not want to fight you. Never ever, but if he ever lost his temper- let’s say you were pushing his boundaries, or maybe you let a trespasser escape- he’ll lose his temper.

He won’t yell or hurt you, but you can tell he’s fuming because he’ll run away and hide in the forest. If you were to follow him, you would see him shaking with rage and slashing at whatever resembled a human corpse. Anything to expel his anger.

After his initial rage dies down, he’ll cry. Again, not in front of you, never in front of you. Maybe he’ll go to the lake, the cabins, etc. But he’ll sit and sob silently into his hands for ever getting angry at you. You didn’t deserve that.

He’ll be so, so scared to go back home to you. He’ll fear that upon his arrival... you’ll be gone. That maybe his anger scared you off once and for all. If he were to ever walk in and find you crying, or scared, he’d hug you almost immediately and he wouldn’t let go for a long time.

After your fight, he won’t know whether to stick to your side like glue, or to give you space. You’ll have to be the one to initiate any physical contact, at least until the tension from the fight disappears.

Bubba Sawyer

He wouldn’t ever get mad at you, so if you were to start yelling at him he’d simply take every word like a slash from a blade. It would hurt him, but he wouldn’t even think to retaliate.

Of course you’d feel bad, any human would; especially when you see him start to cry.

He’d be scared of you. He’d flinch whenever you came too close, because with yelling always came hitting. Thats what he knew from his brothers.

It would take a long time to calm him down again, a long time to stop his shaking and whining.

When you finally do, youd better give him cuddles. So, so many cuddles.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas would have a very difficult time controlling himself if you were to fight. With his family he was taught not to be pushed around, so it takes a lot for him not to hurt you.

Don’t get me wrong; he doesn’t want to hurt you, but it’s normal to him, he doesn’t know any better.

After the initial heat of the fight he’d go somewhere to be alone, brooding in silence.

The only way to calm him down again is to go sit with him, not saying a word. Simply placing your hand on his and waiting.

Billy Lenz

Billy doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions. If he were to get angry, he would be dangerous, to say the least.

When he’s mad, he gets twitchy, unstable. He has a hard time forming coherent sentences and will randomly break out into tears for only a minute or toe before he’s yelling again.

It takes a lot to calm him down. The best thing to do would be to stay silent and wait him out. His voice is so loud he wouldn’t even hear anything you would try to say.

After the fight he’d feel horrible. He’d cry, and beg for your forgiveness. If you don’t hug him, he’ll be even more sad, and afraid, too. Afraid you’re disappointed, afraid that you won’t want anything more to do with him.

Brahms Heelshire

For Brahms it really depends on the day. Sometimes he’ll take no shit from anyone, and he’ll snap back violently, but others he’ll stand silent, waiting for you to finish yelling.

On his feisty days, he’ll argue for hours. He’s a petty dude, so he’s always trying to get the last word in. Sometimes he can grow violent, too. He’d never mean to hurt you, and he’d try to channel his anger into other things.

He’s never been taught to deal with his rage or emotions, so he’s a loose canon. He throws things a lot, like plates or vases.

On his calmer days he’ll take every word you have to say, waiting for you to vent out your anger.

Then, he’d cry. He’d lock himself in the walls and he’d hide from you, sobbing until there wasn’t a trace of anger left in you.

When he comes back out it will take a while to earn his trust again. He’d be afraid of you. Ironic, huh?

Billy & Stu

If you were to yell at Billy, he’d try to shut you up with a kiss. It usually calmed you down, but if you were mad enough and yelled anyway, he’d react differently.

If you still yelled then he’d yell right back. He gets hostile very easily, but he’d never ever hurt you. Maybe he’d break something, but he’d never hurt you.

If you yelled at Stu he’d just stand there, waiting for you to finish before apologizing, even if he didn’t really do anything.

He’d stay 100% calm, even if your yelling made him a little heartbroken. He’d either give you space to let you cool off, or force you into hugging him until you calmed down.

Leslie Vernon

He doesn’t like being yelled at. He doesn’t like yelling, either. He prefers jokes or calm talking, not yelling. Never yelling.

To end the fight, he’ll cut right to the chase and try to brush the problem off or solve it as quickly as possible. If you were to insult him or bring up a sore topic, though... then you’re in trouble.

He doesn’t like to be reminded of his past, insulted, or called out for his mistakes, so when you do any of those he’ll look over you or slam you against a wall to get ont our face and intimidate you.

“That’s enough, (Y/N).” His voice will be stern and threatening enough to shut you right up. It wouldn’t be smart to bring up the topic later.

He wouldn’t outright apologize, he doesn’t want to bring the topic up again, but you can tell he’s sorry for scaring you because of how he’s walking on eggshells.

Vincent Sinclair

He’s used to being yelled at, so he won’t do a single thing. He’ll take the verbal abuse without batting an eye.

He’ll do his best to fix his act, afraid of the consequences if he doesn’t. The only problem with yelling at him is that now he’s associated you with Bo, and in turn, with fear.

He’ll see you as just another person who controls him. He’ll be scared to upset you so he won’t be... himself around you, he’ll be perfect Vincent who makes no mistakes and never complains about anything.

The only way to snap him out of his scared, compliant stupor would be to apologize, and even then, it’ll take him a while to go back to normal and let his guard down around you again.

Bo Sinclair

He will not take any crap. You don’t ever yell at him. A simple glare from Bo is usually enough to scare you out of talking badly.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to be called out- he really does want to hear your problems and such, but not if you raise your voice to tell him.

If you do grow the balls to yell at him, he’ll make you pay. Whether that be through his hand on your throat and rage in his eyes, or the cold shoulder for a whole week, you won’t yell at him again for a while.

Lester Sinclair

Poor Les is terrified of being yelled at. He’s always been invisible to his family, they’ve never yelled at him but he’s seen them yell at each other and it terrifies him.

He’ll go silent, he’ll keep himself together until he’s alone, and then he’ll sob his eyes out for hours. He won’t avoid you afterwards, but he’ll be so scared to mess up.

He’ll do whatever he can to keep you happy. It’ll take a few days for him to stop being so hurt.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

If you yell at him he’ll cross his arms, waiting impatiently for you to finish. When you finally do, he’ll hit you with a sassy “are you done?” And an unimpressed quirked eyebrow.

As childish as that response is, it usually convinces you to storm off with a scoff to go cool off before coming back.

He doesn’t get hurt by your yelling, and he never yells back. He understands that people get angry, that’s okay.

He’ll brush off the fight and act normal the quickest out of any of the other slashers.

Norman Bates

Infinite apologies. He isn’t always sure what he’s done wrong but he won’t ever do it again.

If the yelling escalates, he’ll try not to cry. If it escalates further, he will cry. If it still escalates, he’ll snap.

Depending on the day, snapping either means storming off without a word, or shouting back with full force and setting rage.

After any form of his snapping he’ll feel horrible. You know he feels bad, because he can’t look you in the eye without them tearing up again. You don’t deserve to be yelled at.

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years ago

Text

Something more infinite (George Weasley x reader) ch. 5

Chapter 5. Can we make an alliance, please?

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

word count: 1.4K

warnings: light swearing.

You were dying. Not literally but it sure felt like it. Your seventh year was supposed to be full of parties, trips to Hogsmeade, a little studying and a lot of anxiety about the N.E.W.T’s but so far, thanks to a miss Dolores Jane Umbridge, you’d only been able to enjoy the last two on that list, and you were so done. Not only was your last year at Hogwarts difficult from an academic point of view, but with the parties and practical jokes gone it was also boring, which was almost worse. You’d tried to escape Umbridge’s reign by shutting yourself in the library, determined to ace your exams even if you were going to die of boredom trying. It was much better than getting in trouble and having your hand scratched to pieces by that bloody quill anyways. Fred and George had seemed to take an opposite stance. They’d taken every setback as a challenge to see just how much chaos they could create, no matter the punishment. Now that they’d been booted from the quidditch team, their only outlet for their frustrations were pranks and their product testing. Weirdly, George had not been bugging you. He’d noticed you were hiding out in the library and, you assumed, that he’d taken it as a sign of defeat from you. Generally, George had been acting strange since the yule ball. After you’d calmed down, you’d thought over the words exchanged between the two of you. You’d thought about how, in your fury and sadness, you’d not even stopped to take in what George had said. And more importantly; how he’d said it.

You look really beautiful tonight.

The way he’d said it. You thought about it constantly because you just couldn’t peg the emotion behind it. It wasn’t the same, slightly snarky and sarcastic tone. The intonation had been so un-playful, so downright and...honest. But it couldn't be. To think that George Weasley could have sincerity enough to compliment you would be insane. He wouldn't’. But he had. He did compliment you, and you had been too far gone to even take notice of it. After he’d said it, there had seemed to be a shift of air between you, at least from his side. He’d become much more quiet around you, and his interferences with your business had become scarce, with almost none of his old self shining through. And you didn’t know how to deal with it, which was another reason to stay in the library and common room, it was easier to stay by yourself, where you didn’t have to confront the weird behaviour from George, which had (in the few times you two had talked alone that year) resulted in you becoming even more frustrated with him now that he’d stopped playing into the feud that you fully intended on keeping going, or deal with Umbridge’s bullshit, for that matter. So here you were, deeply invested in a charms essay, reading up on the potential dangers of mispronunciation of incantations and the reversion of unsuccessful spells. That was until a person pulled out a chair in front of you and sat down, a pair of elbows setting themselves down on the table top.

“Hello,” He drew out the word, “What’re you up to?”

“Busy,” you replied, which was true, the essay was due two days from now, and you had yet to begin on the essay for potions which was due the day after that,

“Busy doing what?” He asked, his tone unchanged,

“Reading,” you said, hoping the way you said it translated to go away,

“Reading what?” he continued,

You sighed heavily, “Alright, out with it,” you say, and without looking up from your book, you can hear him sitting back in his chair, “What do you want, Weasley?” you add, hating how good you’d gotten at sensing his smugness,

“I’m here,” he says, as if he’s presenting you with the most exclusive opportunity of your life, “to propose an alliance,” his voice is lowered, his tall frame leaned in over the table, his whole demeanor as if he’d relied information of the highest confidentiality, you weren’t going to play along nicely just because he’d decided he was bored enough to give you his time,

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you articulate,

“Please, Y/n, I know you can’t stand her either!” George beckons, his hands gesticulating in front of him,

“You know what I can’t stand, George?” You snap the book closed and silently revel in the way he tenses up, only showing his start by a bit of excessive blinking, “-that we’ve been going at each other’s throats for five bloody years and somehow, despite all my attempts, you’re still here refusing to fuck off,” you voice raises into a whispered shouting promptly earning a stern shushing from Madam Pince,

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he says, “If the toad keeps going the way she is you can expect me to be out of your hair sooner than expected,” he looks out the window, his eyes just getting misty with thought, before he turns back to you with a shit-eating grin, “as much as the thought of not being able to annoy you bugs me,” he winks at you and you, in turn, make a nauseated grimace as something turns in your stomach.

“Well, if you change your mind about that alliance, you’ll know where to find us, who knows, perhaps if we worked together, we’d be able to take her down,” he says, before knocking on the table once, rising from his seat and leaving. You try to return to your book with a stern “I seriously doubt it,” muttered to yourself while you find the page you left but even as your eyes begin to scan the words your brain can only focus on what George meant by getting out of your hair sooner than you expected. Was he planning on leaving? you’d never even thought of Hogwarts without that shit-eating grin following you around, ruining your every plan and good day. You just wished you could explain why the thought filled you with a strange empty feeling in the pit of your stomach. Over the next few days you think more about a life at Hogwarts without George, and what that would mean for you. You decide, as much as you hate to admit it, that you would rather give in and make an alliance with George than go the rest of the year without him at all. It’s not that you like him, no you couldn’t like George Weasley like that but you still don’t want to see him go just yet.

“I accept your offer,” You find him coming in through the main entrance after a Herbology class, his hair is matted down and sticking to his face, wet from the heavy rain that showers the grounds outside, he looks confused,

“Your alliance, Weasley,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I’m saying I want in,” you look at your feet, “even though it kills me a little to admit it,” you mumble.

Silence. Except for the sound of wet shoes on cobblestone as students come filing in from lessons outside, a group of fourth years laugh at their collective disheveled state but George doesn’t speak. You look up and to your surprise he looks disappointed.

“What?” You ask, genuinely interested, this was a good thing? you were giving him what he loved the most; the upperhand, so why was he looking like you’d just snapped his wand in half?

“Well I was hoping you would,” he trails off, biting his lip, your eyes dance over his face, which is difficult to read, he looks like he’s about to say different things at once before settling on, “It’s just that we’re leaving this friday, during the exams,” he says, and now you’re also disappointed. You fight not to show it as you nod and let out a small “oh, right,”

“But I appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” he says, a smile playing on his lips, but it’s not as cheerful as it usually is, the corners of his mouth tugged downwards by a sadness that you can both feel but can’t explain.

“Once the shop’s finished, you better come see me,” he says, beginning to walk away, he turns around, facing you as he walks up the first steps on the stairs in the entrance hall, “who knows? maybe we can find another thing to collaborate on?” and he smirks. That’s the last time you see that very smirk at Hogwarts and you feel more hollow than ever as you graduate.

taglist: @schlongbottom @cardboardbenmazzello @unseensilver @mochamiilk Let me know if you want to be added :))

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #harry potter #hp

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hitsuackerman · 4 years ago

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Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.20

a/n: i... smell... drama...

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 21

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @colorseeingchick @but-kairis-not-that-smart(i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Keeping both your palms rested on your thighs, it took a lot of energy to regulate your steadily increasing blood pressure. Not seeing Overhaul for almost a week made you realize just how gorgeous his face was, despite it being partially covered by the beak. From time to time, you would send a death glare to Tsukauchi.

It also took a considerable amount of dedication not to look at him. Thankful that peripheral views exist, you were sure how his golden eyes would linger on your silently panicking figure. Tapping your foot was definitely not helping.

“So that’s the rerun for later.” Tsukauchi ended the presentation and closed the projector. He, too, could feel the increasing tension in the room. Yet, this had been a part of his plan. Seeing how you were down made him move and decide that it was time for him to intervene. He also took note on how Overhaul made zero effort in concealing his stares. “Any questions?”

“The back route seems a bit faulty.” One of the officers commenced making Tsukauchi reach for the printed copy. “Is there an alternate route?”

“We can opt to use the fire exit but it would be too obvious on our part. I specifically chose this route since there are less hindrances along the way and it would be easy to be lost in the crowd.”

“I’m pretty sure the Fukuo Kai will be heavily guarding the back route.”

“On the contrary,” Overhaul spoke up. Each person jumping at the sudden intrusion of his muffled voice. “The back route will make things easier. If your lot wants to narrowly escape then being cornered will be a good thing. Those bastards aren’t the best when they get separated from their mother hen.”

Hearing him speak sent shivers down your spine. Gritting your teeth, you pushed your quirk a bit more to relax yourself. Personal emotions aside, he had a point.

“He just sided with Tsuka-kun.” Shinezu leaned in and whispered. “Is this a fever dream?”

“No. Take the sociopath away, he’s relatively stable.” You praised him. “One of the best villains to work with, in all honesty.”

“Oh right, you were paired up with him before the… holy smokes this guy’s got balls. Entering a precinct despite having the heroes planning to capture him? What I’d give to have his confidence.”

“You’ll get there, Shinez. Just get out of the office more.” You squeezed his shoulders and earned an enthusiastic huff.

With the briefing now finished, Overhaul excused himself and left the room. The way he turned around without a care in the world, or at least the people in the room, made the butterflies in your stomach tingle with a certain longing that only he could fill. Chewing on your inner cheek, it was getting difficult to stop yourself from standing up and drag him to that one secluded area to pour your pent up emotions.

Shaking your head, you shifted your attention back to the meeting. It had not registered that there were still a few small talks happening. Luckily, no one took it to themselves to converse with you. Listening to their conversations, one of them addressed his concerns about having to work with a villain.

“It goes beyond our belief.” He commented. Forehead wrinkling at the thought of having Overhaul as a team mate.

“He does the job rather well.” Tsukauchi defended him. His words bore no ill-will. “His quirk will be of help later. Also take into consideration that your group will not be in the same area as him. (l/n) and I will be with him guarding the premises.”

“Still. I bet right now, he’s listening in on our conversation. Doesn’t that bother you?” His eyes slid to your silent mouth. Almost as if asking for validation. One that he would not be getting anytime sooner.

“I digress. I’ve worked with him a bit longer than Nao.” You caught his stare and shrugged. “As long as you don’t question his motives, he’ll cooperate. He does what he wants and what we want as long as boundaries are present.”

“Suit yourselves.” Standing up, the 4th division officer commanded the others to follow him into the garage.

Once it was only Tsukauchi, Shinezu, and you inside the room, one more small conversation ensued.

“Do you want him to ride in your car or mine?” Tsukauchi asked.

“Am I missing something?” Shinezu asked with eyes wide open. Head going back and forth from his coworkers.

“You’re the head of the case.” Smiling at your partner, you would respect whatever decision he would make. “Surprise me. I’ll wait by the lobby.”

Leaving the room, you immediately proceeded to your desk and grabbed the necessities. Knowing you would gear up at the site, the trip was short and you were now seated in the driver’s seat. Key inside the ignition hole, the engine warming up to be put to good use. Getting a message that you were to wait by the entrance, you followed suit and squinted when sunlight hit your eyes.

Turning your hazard lights on, you stared at the entrance of the building. Who would be seated beside you in the minutes to come? Hearing your ringtone, you tore your gaze away and grabbed your phone.

“Gei?” This was the last person you’d expect to call you at this time. Gripping your phone a little harder, you waited for him to speak up.

“Yes yes yes, I know! And relax, I’m fine!” He assured you. “I just called to inform you that next week, my schedule will be cleared due to some conference that got rescheduled. I was thinkin we could head out and have some quality time together?”

“What do you have in mind?” Reaching for your planner, you checked your own schedule next week and found you could squeeze in a few hours for him. Looking into your rearview mirror, your eyes widened at the sight of the reflection. “Holy smokes. I gotta go. I’ll call you later, Gei.”

“Is your mission starting? Oh shit! I’m so sorry for disturbing you! Take care and stay safe, (n/n).” He managed to spit out some words before he could hear the door opening through the line.

“I apologize for making you wait.” Overhaul said as he seated himself in the backseat. Closing the seat, his sight remained glued to the outside world. His fingers now playing with the hems of his white gloves.

“GIRL?! IS THA-” Before you would let Overhaul hear what your friend had to say, you ended the call and closed your planner.

Half expecting that Tsukauchi would let him ride your car, you felt your chest tighten at the fact he was in the backseat and not beside you. Perhaps things were really different after that Ackerman name drop. Remembering he had apologized for making you wait, you placed the planner back into your bag and thanked the seat for covering your flushed face.

“It really wasn’t that long.” Seated properly again, you caught his intense golden eyes staring at your mirror. Not one to back out from a staring game, it shocked yourself when you tore your gaze first. A mission was at hand and personal feelings should now be set aside. “You ready?”

With no response, you began the trip to the rendezvous point.

What usually was filled with small talks and easy flowing conversations, the car ride proved to be longer than you wanted. Whatever comfortable silence shared before was now replaced with thick tension. All it takes would be one word to break the ice and perhaps mend the splitting relationship, but intuition told you otherwise. Giving him what he wants would only make things worse.

If it wasn’t for Tsukauchi’s car appearing into view, you would have caved and threw your pride. Parking the car, you watched as he opened the door and immediately closed it. Memories of 6 nights ago flooding your brain. Shaking the thoughts away, you grabbed your phone and made sure to hide the burner phone in the glove compartment.

Once you were met with Tsukauchi and Shinezu, you were bombarded with questions.

“How was the car ride? You’re alive! Did he share any of his ideas and ways of life?” Shinezu asked away.

“It was a silent ride.” You gave your partner a shrug. “He sat in the backseat so I was his chauffeur for the entire duration.”

“Oi, you three! Get in here!” One of the officers from the 4th division called your attention. Gesturing you three to approach the small tent, Tsukauchi nodded and led the group. Inside the small tent were a bunch of monitors displaying the camera footage of the targeted building. “Birdman has entered the building and is heading to his position. So far, the targets are where they’re supposed to be.”

“Keep us updated. It won’t be long before their meeting will start.” Tsukauchi reached for an earpiece and handed each one of you as well. Giving Shinezu final instructions, both of you watched as the shy man exited the tent and appeared on one of the monitors. “He may be shy but he does undercover well.”

“Couldn’t agree more~” You smirked at how Shinez rolled his shoulders and took much more confident strides.

“Ah, (y/n), a word…” Tsukauchi opened the tent doors and led you to his car. “First off, I’m sorry for the sudden intrusion of Overhaul. I just hate seeing you so down these days. I thought that if he were to see you, whatever you see in him might come out and things might turn out for the better.”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind~” Scratching your neck, it was honestly the thought that counted. “I got to see him so I guess it ain’t all that bad. Plus, spoiling him wouldn’t do us any good so…”

“Just talk to him later. Truth be told, he didn’t want to come.” Staring at the building, Tsukauchi couldn’t help but wonder, what would happen once the earpiece would finally establish connection. “When I told him you’d be there, he changed his mind before ending the call.”

The rest of the hours flew by and the meeting finally began. Tsukauchi was listening carefully through the earpiece while you monitored Shinezu. Every now and then, you would glance at the monitor which focused on Overhaul. If things were still the way before, you would bet your money that Overhaul would be texting you on how the meeting was a waste of his time.

Feeling your chest tightening and your shoulders getting heavier by the minute, you focused back on Shinezu’s camera. It was only for a second but you caught how the man flinched. Furrowing your brows, you asked the person in charge to zoom in on Shinezu. Pointing towards the communication device, the officer quickly grabbed it and handed it over. With your thumb grazing the small button, you waited till you were sure the man was in distress. Seeing how he put his hand in his pocket, you clicked on the button.

“Calm down.” Heartbeat slowly picking up its pace. “Scratch your cheek if you’re in need of back up, touch your chin if it’s urgent.”

Hearing what you stated, the officer stood up and ordered the back up team to prepare..

The moment Shinezu touched his chin, you put the device down and gave them the go signal. Jogging to Tsukauchi’s station, you updated him of the current events to which he relayed to Overhaul. Continuing the task, you went back to your seat and pushed the button.

“Backup is on it’s way, Shinez. Leave now.” You watched as the conversation between him and the other man continued. With your finger tapping on the jagged edge of the device, your focus was now on another monitor. Letting out your held breath, relief flooded you when the other man turned his back and made his way back to whatever business he had. Once Shinezu was in a clear spot, the button was pushed once more. “What the heck happened?”

“I heard a gunshot. Presumably on the floor above.” He was now running towards the elevator while loosening his tie.

Looking at the other monitors, the mentioned floors looked fine.

“Shit. Nao!”

“On it.”

Leaving your posts to the other officers, Tsukauchi and you geared up before jogging towards the entrance. Careful of your surroundings.

“How long did you think they rigged the footage?” You asked as you entered the building. It was oddly and unsettling. Focusing on whatever noise would suffice, all you could hear were each of your footsteps on the floors. Clicking your earpiece, you tried to communicate with whoever could be reached. “Anyone from 4. Do you copy?”

“One injured. 5th floor.” One officer managed to reply.

Giving you a signal, Tsukauchi went towards the stairs while you were left to further inspect the ground floor for any possible civilians or members in hiding. Sighing at the turn of events, you took out your handgun and cocked it. Cautiously taking one step after another, you began to check each room and corner till you were sure the vicinity was clear.

Heading to the fire exit, you made your way to the 4th floor. Just as you were about to open the door, the ground shook. Staring at the ceiling, you took note of the looming cracks. Not wanting to remain in the cramped area, you entered the hallway. Not expecting the floor to be somewhat of a wreck, you covered your nose and squint at all the dust.

It took a while to adjust, but the floor was now clearer to your eyes. Coughing a bit, you took more steps forward. Before turning the corner, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar voice.

“Where is he?” The way it was muffled only gave him away. “Tsk. You made such a mess.”

Peaking, you saw his tall figure. Hands void of any gloves.

Hearing a crunching sound behind you, your eyes searched the premises only to be met with emptiness. With your finger resting on the trigger, you were more than ready to defend yourself. Even if it meant shooting a person, the only thing you hated about the job.

“Answer me, you rat. The meeting was going well till that little gesture you did with your hands.” Bending his body down, the tip of his mask touched the trembling person’s cheek. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“H-he went to the rooftop.” The man answered.

“Did you get that?” Overhaul touched his earpiece. It was quiet again. “Hmm? No one’s on the rooftop? Well then, that’s not my problem anymore now is it?”

Taking the small device from his ear, he stared at it before overhauling. Adjusting his jacket, you watched as he knelt and stretched out a hand towards the other person’s neck. Not wanting a mess of things, it was time you intervene.

“I wouldn’t kill him if I were you…” Stepping out of your little corner, you felt your throat parching when he peered at you over his shoulder. Putting the handgun away, you showed him your palms and walked closer to the two men. “We can bring him in and question him in the precinct.”

“This has nothing to do with the Fukuo Kai case.” His gaze now back at the man. “Stay out of it.”

“As much as I want to stay out of it, this man is still a part of the Fukuo Kai. We need him in one piece.”

“I thought you swore not to, I quote, snoop around.” His hand now wrapped around the other person’s neck. Standing to his feet, you watched as the helpless man struggled for oxygen. “Leave.”

“I’d rather not.” You stood your ground. “The others already think negatively of you, despite you lending a helping hand. Just give him to us and I’ll even give you the privilege of asking a few questions.”

“Do you think I actually care about what you people think? All of you are mere pawns in my game.” Tightening his grip, his golden eyes bore holes into the choking man. Not for long though, a second after, the deafening scream was replaced with the sounds of blood splattering on the walls. Turning around to face you, Overhaul wiped the blood off his hands onto his jacket. “Listen, I may have agreed to work with your lot, but there was no agreement regarding my actions and its consequences.”

“I’m well aware.” Lifting your chin up, you continued. “But this doesn’t revolve around you. You’re my pawn in this case. Remember, if you want out, go ahead. I can pull a few strings and solve this case without you.”

“Then so be it.”

- - - - -

a/n: oops. did yall like this chapter? this was pretty difficult to write since ive never really written this kind of scene (save for BLEACH because i may or may not have a Hitsugaya x Reader couchcough) but i hope yall like the increasing drama! :*

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai

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