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confusedgoldenflower · 4 months ago

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Due to another wave of touch starvation/want for love and the inherent fluffy-cuddliness of omegaverse, I am, once again, bullying (<3) this part of the internet.

DISCLAIMER: This is according to what I’ve been able to understand of research and this is intellectualizing a fantastical idea. Also, I’m not “writing the rules” of omegaverse. I just have thoughts I wanna share. (Relevant screenshots at bottom.)

To begin, humans are animals. We are. We ain’t special except for the fact that we’re the surviving homosapiens (but not without any mixing, good job you horny fuckos) and we’re the shittiest sniffers outta the primate (and wider animal kingdom) lot. Even bugs communicate with scent/pheromones. Even plants communicate with chemicals (also sometimes known as smells). So chill.

We all already communicate on some level with pheromones—the research of which is pretty neat, I encourage y’all to take a looksy—because, again, animals. But as mentioned above, our sense of smell is shit. Pretty obvious if you know anything about dogs, at the very least. About half of our dna instructions for smell are turned off—that’s like a huge handicap for the whole “wild living”—and have decreased/turned off, like, four times faster than other primates.

How we spread scent, what imma call pheromone scent glands, coincides with areas of hair i.e. genitals, under arm, etc (idk how and haven’t found shit on how “social status” is conferred but okay, also it’s omegaverse, so it’s par for the course). Someone makes a joke about smelling someone’s hand after they scratch their testicals? That’s the info (smell) that’s being shared. “Stink kink?” Probably just basic body order and pheromones that naturally go with it considering Big Perfume.

So in omegaverse, I propose that the human nose is still dying at that rate because… like the science-person hypothesis says, close quarters equals big, obnoxious stink! [Third screencap.] Also, that the pheromone glands won’t be on hands because we’re touching everything all the time (people seem to base their omegaverse anatomy on canids (scent via paws) because, well, watch the YouTube doc on how omegaverse started if you don’t know by now. Suffice it to say, werewolves with a twist). Possibly something in feet since humanity likes covering those.

Areas of scent glands: anogenital and suprapubic. The first means the genital region (vulva/penis down to anus; the human anus already having a bunch of smaller glands just within the sphincter already (ergo how shitting marks territory (also can just grind as a way to mark))). These seem to be primarily in the perineum area, usually on each “side” if you drew a center line. Animals we’re more familiar with having anal glands are other mammals (your vet asking if your cat or dog needs their glands expressed) which are beside the anus and have been historically used in perfumes (musk) [the way humans went “hm, our natural odors and milk aren’t cool enough, let’s take from other species!” is so wild to me, but, sure, let’s freak out over adult nursing relationships and vegan (somehow) icecream parlors whilst drinking our moo-cow chocy milky. Humans and our silly, quirky standards, amiright (I’ve been down so many rabbit holes now)]. The suprapubic area is above the pubic bone and beneath the naval. I couldn’t find any examples so I don’t know the exact location?? I can only assume it’d be along the mons pubis-“happy trail,” if you will, line?

(New gland just dropped! https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/ar.1092350411. Also, humans don’t have true urinary glands (prostate is a gland tho), and the vulvar region has a lot of glands (all named after men, whoo….). I don’t know about intersex and I sorta doubt there’s sufficient science that “deep” yet, fuck y’all human spectrum deniers. You want another rabbit hole? Anogenital mammary glands. Yeah, it’s as wild as it sounds. Last thing: men can and HAVE been lactating. They have all the tissue, generically speaking, it’s just the “usual” changes didn’t happen during puberty to make it obvious. It’s been recorded in historic records of instances (i.e. partum loss of wife).)

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/ar.1092350411

I allot “beard line” scent glands or head-crown glands because nuzzling is cute, let’s be real. (Primates don’t seem to have facial/head glands, at least not that I’ve found.) Muntjak deer have very obvious glands on their faces and we all know cats have cheek glands, so there’s also that. Again, I find nuzzling cute so eh (but the gland itself might be unsightly, see muntjak and lemur glands). Lemurs (a type of primate) have wrist and elbow glands with spikes for the purpose of marking, I’d say that’d be evolutionarily lost to omegaverse humans because modern age… unless you want some possibly dangerous vestigial traits.

Some primates also have sternum glands and marking. It’s a bit more of an author’s choice as some primates don’t even have glands, and so don’t do the behaviors (like macaques and real life humans). These glands sorta range from being obvious to “wait, there’s a gland there?”

Also the abcc11 (less stinky arm axilla) would likely still be a thing. Don’t forget, fic writers of eastern characters! (Lmao white people enter chat and the locals are just “why do these rude strangers wanna fight so bad?”)

As far as neck “mate” marking… pheromone scent glands (as opposed to the regular sweat glands) are specialised, so it’s not entirely unreasonable (scientifically) for certain glands to have more specialised purposes. Perhaps matching one in the mouth to coat the teeth (does partner smear spit over teeth with tongue? I’m putting too much thought into this) prior to bite/marking.

Omegaverse would maybe-probably have other/more hormones especially considering the inherent intersexuality of (mainly) the omegas, but I’m TIRED of the fucking air freshener “natural human scents.” Testosterone is musky and sweet. Estrogen is… there really aren’t a lot of studies on it but it’s levels affect vaginal scents (fucking duh) which has been described as “most feminine” during follicular phase. Vaginal canal is slightly acidic so it’s gonna smell like it, remember that. Simple explanations but mainly referring to bacterial causality: https://www.healthline.com/health/womens-health/vagina-smells. The hormone levels: https://neurosciencenews.com/female-hormone-smell-9856/.

Period control irl changes the scent, so how might “scent blockers” and “heat medication” do that? Patches or pill or insert or injection? (How might these things also affect discharge?) As do menstrual phase, life phase (i.e. prepubescence and menopausal) food and activities.

We already subconsciously communicate emotions via chemical cues, however, whether or not any animal can CHOOSE/CONSCIOUSLY generate these is unclear (see: “he pumped out calming pheromones to calm his omega/pup”)—I’d say sans calming oneself down or even angering oneself etc.

So history wise, as humanity develops ideas of couthe, they might erect things like the Shigir Idol with which to mark territory to avoid messying of territory via pissing and shitting everywhere because that’s also problematic hygiene wise (other animals understand this, btw), or because any handy landmark like a tree isn’t where it’d be ideal. Yup, I’m roping in how history can be factored into this shit, fite this nerd.

If I could choose, there’d be no “alpha voice,” ew, where’d that even come from and don’t say Dune. And no “primes,” whatever the fuck that even means. The elevated misogyny, too, would be burning in the dumpster courtesy of a mal o tov cocktail. Seriously, people, self reflect and also have more fun.

[I get angry] Heat, aka estrus, is when a female animal is receptive to mating and can conceive, it is NOT menstruation. It does NOT hurt the animal (or omega, in this case) although there may be blood smears in the mucus generation. STOP making it extra horny periods, you fucking ignorant weirdoes. It’s main signs are vulvar swelling, heightened mucosal creation/more vaginal discharge, decreased feeding, humping/mounting others around, and increased restlessness. Why the fuck would the smooth muscles be cramping during this? Hm? What’s being expelled? Do you even understand the fundamental purpose of a period? (*Takes the shit education system out back and-*)

Now, estrus and menstruation COULD coexist as periods are the body NOT re-absorbing that material (fuckin’ dumb move, mate, why do we exist) after not conceiving—which means it’s AFTER the human version of estrus—and also that entire grouping of organs begging for an end to existence. So the estrus cycle would be included in menstrual cycle as humans would be experiencing typical estrus as well. Also, I find the mindlessness fucking dumb—like brain fog/massive brain space taken up by the horniness, okay, but a fugue-like state of horniness is weird and dumb. In my opinion.

I’d add a lot more [allo]grooming—not THAT kind of grooming—to these aus too, since it’s an important social/wellbeing interaction in any sort of animal social groups, and we also do it naturally already, see: petting animals and head pats. Edit: also the “let’s take a baaAAAaath, I’ll wash your baaAAAaak!” No, I’m not trying to encourage more fluff in order to have imaginary people to live vicariously through because I’m lonely, what are you talking about.

Calling any babies pups/kits/kittens/cubs I think is stupid cute, so no notes, besides… let’s switch it up sometimes?

Last and reblog-added screencaps will be examples of how you can choose your omegas (female substitute) and alphas (male substitute) to scent mark and at what frequency. Toss a coin for your betas and gammas and deltas, I guess.

#omegaverse #essay #omegaverse essay #science talk #talk about females and males and genital areas #CW #omegaverse structuring #this is a bit messy tbh

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mostly-comfort · 1 year ago

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i was a little shy and indecisive in my previous ask ^-^' whoops haha i had REALLY better make a decision or you'll be pushed for time more than you probablynalready are ^-^'

if there is still a slot available, could i please request a lil halloween doodle of my boi pete?

his profile is linked in his fic masterpost, shifting phases, which is linked in my masterpost over on my sideblog @emcscared-whumps

it has a few references included, but i can send more specific ones and answer any questions later on if you need (and in that case, how would you prefer to receive them? is tumblr dm okay?)

and then, could i also request some info and refs on your boi?

thankyouuuuu, have a happy halloween :)))

it's np!! i only have 2 spots filled so far, this'll be the third (i decided to have 5 spots total)

i read through his profile (love how detailed it is!), and i was wondering if he has regular teeth or not? ik some ppl like to give their mer/mer-like characters sharp teeth, or fangs sometimes

also, i noticed in one drawing, he has white streaks in his hair! is that later on or would you consider it to be part of his default appearance?

i realized u can't dm sideblogs, so i can message u with my main or keep using regular or private asks, whichever u prefer!

u just opened up pandora's box by asking me abt my sad boy [rubs hands together]

unfortunately i don't have any refs beyond what i drew, but he just has typical vampire traits (red eyes, claws, very pale, etc)

in my universe, vampires are more biologically plausible, so they have adaptations and they're mostly limited to what's natural. they aren't immortal, can't turn humans into vampires, etc. though it's not completely realistic, otherwise this story wouldn't exist lol

vampires can live to 1000 years. they're hardy, they can take injuries that would be fatal to a human (though they feel just as much pain), and are difficult to kill. yet that's exactly the problem for our unfortunate guy :)

hunters imprisoned and tortured him for over 300 years, never granting him the mercy of death. he's now merely a shell of who he once was, and he has no memory of his past or who he was (and honestly, i don't know either lmao)

as you may know, being tortured for centuries leaves irreparable trauma/mental damage, not only making him lose his memories but rendering him incapable of fending for himself. he can barely function, can hardly say anything other than apologies or pleas, etc. i think his brain has even lost significant mass (i have no idea if this is even possible but let's go with it lol)

in present day, he's out of there and with a caretaker, though i'll share more about that later, or if i ever get around to writing his story lmao

personality

he's perpetually nervous, which is the understatement of the century (ironic)

very conditioned, struggles to articulate sentences, or just thinking in general

obedient, quiet, timid ofc. as time goes on, he becomes curious, likes being in nature

extremely dedicated to caretaker, probably to the point of unhealthy codependency

appearance

longish, messy, black, wavy hair

red eyes, slit pupils (they can dilate like a cat's)

pale skin

wears a tracking collar

vampires rarely scar, unless the injury is repeated or severe enough. so of course he has a deep scar on his face from when the hunters forced him to wear a silver muzzle pretty much the whole time

also has scars around neck, wrists, and ankles from wearing silver cuffs/collar

scarred, crooked fingers

fun facts

he thinks of himself as an 'it' for a long time, even though caretaker doesn't think of him as such

his behavior is quite instinctive/creature-like. he scents, he likes climbing trees, sitting in the moonlight, bringing back leaves, twigs, feathers, etc

fuck it, vampires can purr. if u couldn't tell, i'm heavily inspired by cats lmao

when he learns to read again, he develops a liking for stories

has issues with feeding, tries his best to hide his fangs, really he just has problems with everything that makes him a vampire sadly

#ask #oc august #story: centuries

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worldofavania · 2 months ago

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Drawn: 2019 (Updated 2020)

Analysis: I can't believe we're here already! This page and the next really set the bar for the comic's art style, at least in representing the various evolutionary steps the art had taken over several years of drawing, but also in being the first pages to really cement in my mind the use of simulated depth-of-field effects and the finishing chromatic aberration effect. As you can imagine, the detailed backgrounds here took quite a while to draw, and while I like showing off lots of detail, I didn't want to drown out the main characters in a scene full of people... The selective blurring really helps (and is most apparent) in scenes with multiple "planes" of depth, such as this one, and I think the technique both looks great and achieves the focus I desired, especially in conjunction with the atmospheric lighting I'd been using prior.

As for the composition and panels themselves, yep, it's a lot of rectangles. With so much detail in the scene though, I needed to make TWO big panoramic shots! I'm really happy with how both of those turned out, and the character art came out pretty good too (though Hartwin still looks a little weird in the third panel) and the interactions are fun. I had to do some last minute adjustments to the dialogue though, so things probably could have been a little better, but all in all I think it's still fine and doesn't detract from the page's successes.

If I drew it again: This page was a lot of work already and I really like the big open shots, so I don't think I'd bother to change much unless I was illustrating a bigger change in the script... As I mentioned above though I could probably do better redrawing Hartwin in panel 3; something about his arm looking a bit stiff, or maybe his eyes are too big... I can't exactly put my finger on it, but it's the only thing on the page that I'd consider fixing at the moment. Favorite Panel: Probably the first panel, as it has the big detailed background and I really like the depth the first panel has with Schmitt being so close to the camera, Hartwin sitting in the bar, "Bowie" and Rick entering the cantina, and the other guys sitting in the background. Runner up: The last panel, because I think I actually prefer that background itself more, and I'm really happy with those character poses. However, the overall composition is a bit simpler than above, so IMO this one takes second (but not by much!)

#author's commentary

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astudyincontrasts · 3 years ago

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Penance III

Priest!Silco x Fem!Reader AU (sfw?)

Third installment in a nsfw multichapter little fic, dedicated to @purpurniymstitel‘s inspired prompt. Slow burn continues, please get the aloe. And the towels. You guys have honestly been the flipping best. I’m so glad everyone is enjoying the ruinous Father Silco so much. Mark Twain said go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.

Ya’ll are the best company anyone could wish for.

In spite of your sincere dislike of it, you took the book he'd given you along with you the next day. Went out to a café, enough money left for a coffee and croissant. Sat there in the cold spring air finishing the book, the tips of fingers burning with the chill by the time you were done. And you picked up one of those little listing booklets for new apartments, tucked it between cover and last page of the book to peruse later. The balm of getting a new place soon doing wonders for your mood.

You rose late on Sunday, knowing full well Ginny would attend an earlier Mass. Also not in any kind of terrible hurry. You pulled on that navy dress again, wrapped and tied it tight to the side. And stood there seriously considering the sheer nude stockings. Considered going without entirely. But pulled them on anyhow. Stared in the mirror at your bruised knees, at how obvious the dark shadows marring them were under the hose. Fuck it. Let everyone look. You even did you hair, had it soft, pretty. Scooped up the book and headed out the door. You didn't sit in the very back this time, but you did pick one of the last rows that was occupied, silently wondering if that massive cathedral had ever seen a service that filled its huge space. You sat there, watching him. Wishing away that little touch of bitterness, the shallow anger at being treated like you'd done something wrong. Waited your turn in line for the Eucharist, watching him offer you that miniscule little smile as you approached and did not return it. "The body." Wafer lifted. You kept your mouth shut. Lifted the cup of hands. "Amen." Watched the corners of his mouth fall back to their habitual downturn as he placed the wafer in your palm. Set it in your own mouth without breaking eye contact and crossed yourself. Stepped away. He looked deeply unhappy after the period of silence and final song of praise. Seated there sunk in thought, attention fixed on some ineffable point just at the edge of the dais. You wanted it to make you happy but it did not. Instead it had you waiting a long time after everyone filed out of the end of the service, had you sitting there in the straight backed uncomfortable pew until you lost feeling in your backside. And then finally rose and headed for the rectory. You let yourself in, shut the door behind you and paused in the alcove. Peered through the doorway to find him at his desk, busy in paperwork, scribbling something down, forehead propped on the rise of two fingers. "Father?" He glanced up and seemed genuinely surprised to find you standing there. "(Y/n). Come in." The pace you set toward the desk was unhurried, almost cautious. "I finished the book." You set it down before him and stood, not wanting to make the assumption of taking a seat just yet. "Good." He kept his eyes on it, warm red cover and glossy gold lettering. A finger drew it nearer himself. He seemed to be gearing up to plow ahead with some pre-arraigned line of questioning about the subject matter or some pontificating on the same, but drew up short. Teal eye ticked up as he tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back in the chair. "Come here." You held that gaze for a long moment before you complied, rounding the desk to stop before him as he swiveled chair toward you. Felt warmth rise unwanted under skin as his attention fell to your knees. Watched him release a breath that sagged his chest just a little. And when he held out his hand you let him have yours. Let him draw you forward another step before his hand fell. Fingers curled behind the hollow of one knee as his thumb touched the tenderness of a deep blue bruise, had you flinching. He drew his hand back and instead touched the edge of his desk. "Please." Tone quiet, some of that hard steel gone out of it. Hesitation hung heavy as you eyed the edge of the desk, and the door beyond, closed but unlocked. And then back to him. All that dark torment of his in the confessional rushing back in a tidal wave as you looked down at him; soft touch and sudden cold flare temper. His hand up your dress. What he'd made you say. How weak it made you. Your hand strayed toward the desk and you followed it, perched on the edge of it and shifted back just a touch, watching him warily. Got the sincere impression he was doing the same to you. But that dark eyepatch felt like a barrier and scars helped disguise any tells from one half of his face. A mad little impulse seized you and you reached forward. Caught the edge of that eyepatch and pulled it up, off. Tossed it on the desk. He glanced up at you in surprise and to your credit you just stared back. Steady. God, that eye. Did it hurt? How did it happen? How could he stand it? More surprise it moved with his good one, let you wonder if perhaps it had some semblance of sight left to it. You waited for him get mad at your forwardness, or to reach to cover the eye with his fingers, or even snatch the eyepatch back from beside you. "I think," He began, quietly, "Perhaps I ought to be the one seeking forgiveness today." You nodded shallowly, tried not to let it show how your throat worked a hard swallow as his fingertips caught a light brush of a stroke behind the calf of your damaged knee. How eyes blinked hard and fast when they did it again. "Your penance was cruel. I'm sorry." Dark head canted slightly as he gazed up at you. Something dark seized up under your heart. Made you want to tell him you forgave him. Tell him to run his fingers higher up your leg. Made you want to reach forward and touch the furrows of scars under that terrifying eye. Climb into the dark spread of his lap. Made you a little dizzy, a little off center. Boundaries were blurring hard and fast. Not that they'd been so steady to begin with. You sucked your lower lip inward and settled for another simple nod, settled into the ache. Fingers burning like lit candles at denied touch. It turned out you didn't need to ask his fingers to stray. He watched your thighs tighten together in that involuntary little tattletale motion and reached for the hem of your dress. Flipped it up to uncover the lace tops of stockings. Nearly flipped it up far enough to reveal quite a bit more. The air of the room felt cool against hot skin, a rush that had you sucking in a slow, deep breath as that now familiar taut little knot began tangling hard loops in your stomach. Hands slid up, caught the lace and peeled it off skin, drew first one stocking down and then the other as you obligingly lifted each thigh to allow it. Silk pooled just below damaged knees. He cradled one of them in the grasp of both hands and thumbs drew slow arcs over the bruised bone. And then he ducked his head. Scarred mouth brushed the lightest kiss you'd ever felt over sore skin, shooting a rushing warm spark straight up your thigh to that sweet throb between legs. You fought the urge to let eyes shut tight against the exquisite sensation, fought not to let your head rock back, not to let some kind of terrible sound slip past the tight press of your lips. Fought not to stroke fingers along the bare nape of his neck that his lowered head offered you. He kissed skin again and this time there was the lightest sensation of damp. Impossible to tell if it was a touch of the tip of his tongue or the inner edge of his lower lip. It had air escape you in a little unfortunately audible rush. Got you another caress of those thumbs and the briefest of upward glances before his attention fell to the other knee. You wanted to ask him what exactly he thought he was doing, but the analogy of it struck you loud and clear. The washing and kissing of the beggars' feet. It was such an indecent parallel to draw you felt a little rush at it. This time when his mouth touched you it lingered, soft closing drag of scarred lips. And you lost the battle to keep eyes open. One hand left its hard knuckled press to the desk and fisted in the fabric of your dress. Gathered it up fold by soft fold until there was nothing between air and the small peek of underwear, satin small hint of triangle just above the tops of thighs. Felt his mouth lift from your skin as you willed eyes to open. Caught his gaze flicking from the view up to you and, drawing a painful little breath, you spread knees a little further apart for him. He held your agonized gaze for a long moment before dropping his head to grace your bruises with another chaste kiss. And then set to drawing your stockings back up again. Leaving you feeling intensely foolish and terribly vulnerable. Still, you lifted thighs one by one to accommodate the redressing. And pulled the hem of your skirt down quickly when it was done. What a stupid thing to have done. "Could I... could I have a cigarette?" You asked tensely, and watched him blink that one good eye in surprise. Substituting one craving for another felt as good as anything you supposed. Both deeply unhealthy. He released your knee and rose, terribly close, took hold of your elbow and helped you off the desk, steered you toward the door before letting his grasp drop. Followed you outside and lit one for himself before handing it over. "We could share." You took a drag and sweet god how it flooded your brain with a heady, comfortable little buzz as you handed it back to him. You were collecting bad habits. "Were you mad at me?" You finally found the courage to ask as you exhaled that deep lungful. Watched his good eye close momentarily before fixing on you again. "No." He handed the cigarette back. "Yes." You huffed a laugh and flicked ash off the end of the cigarette, wrapped an arm around yourself. "I hated that book." You admitted, because if you were both being honest, why not? "I hated that woman. And..."

You took a long drag before handing the cigarette back, lifting a finger once he took it from you.

"I got it. Heavy handed metaphor about my Aunt. Loud and clear." He grinned thinly and took his own drag with a single nod of acknowledgement. "And what else?" "That piety can be a shallow disguise for personal demons. And privilege is an intoxicant. Makes people drunk and stupid and high on themselves." He stared at you, fully forgetting to hand the cigarette back. You dipped a little and took it from the hang of his hand yourself. Watched his eyes narrow a fraction. "Why didn't you finish school?" He asked frankly, almost sounding astounded. "Because the nuns and the priests were heartless mean bastards and I hated them all. Father." One last draw on the cigarette and you tossed the butt on the ground and twisted the toe of your shoe over it sharply. Father Silco watched the cold motion of it silently before his mismatched gaze rose again, slowly, that thin cant of a smile reassuming its place on his face for the first time that afternoon. "No, I can see that." Like he was choosing his words carefully when it came to your discipline issues. Hands laced themselves behind his back. "You prefer praise." No words for how you blanched when he said the quiet part out loud. And how he'd pinned you so obviously well had him positively smug. Had you feeling your next confession would absolutely have a very detailed example of how you'd indulged in the sin of anger. Not like he was wrong. But you hated how well he read you. And how well you obviously liked his praise. In the comfortable if embarrassing silence that settled between you both your stomach rumbled audibly. His dark brows lifted, smug satisfaction evaporating. "Have you eaten today?" He asked delicately. You wanted to lie or shrug it off but instead just shook your head. "Come have lunch with me." Do what now? "Oh, no. That's not-" "Please." You sagged slightly. And a hot meal instead of picking through whatever was left in your fridge once more sounded divine. Still you struggled for an out. "Don't you have more services?" He was opening the door, holding it for you. Hand a light touch to the small of your back as you passed by that made those damaged knees go to jelly a little. He kept it there on the way back to the rectory. "Not until this evening. And I'm tired of dining alone. I'm sure you can imagine sharing a meal with the sisters can be dry at best." He took what he needed from his desk and was headed to the door when you stopped him.

"Father?" He turned to find you still stood by his desk, that dark eyepatch dangling from one finger. Watching him carefully. Quietly pleased that you'd somehow managed to either make him forget it or else that he felt comfortable enough without it around you that he'd been prepared to go out without it. Back he came, slow, and your fingers closed on the thin elastic strap as he reached for it, pulling it back out of range a little.

He let his hand fall and gave you a dark little look, only mildly amused with this tease. You let that reproach roll off your back and stepped closer, had it in mind to put it on for him but got lost for a moment on the way there, fingers reaching for the furrows of those long scars. And he let you. Held perfectly still as you cupped hand to the hollow of a cheek and traced them, all the little ones directly under that terrifying ruin of an eye and the long ones. His head listing an infinitesimal amount as fingertips slid down to the outer corner of his mouth.

That reverie of yours was only broken when his own hand closed gently over your lower jaw, freezing you in place. Red eye and teal ticking over your face, so breathlessly close, like they'd see straight through you.

"That was such a disappointment at Mass earlier." Ragged dark velvet, pitched so quiet. His thumb found the fullest part of your lower lip and pressed, parted your mouth and caught its edge against your lower teeth. Mouth opened for him, a lovely little O. All his attention focused on it, on how your tongue flattened within.

No need to ask what he was referring to, even if you'd had the ability to do so; recalling full well how hurt he'd looked at you accepting the Eucharist in the palm of your hand. He drew that little O just a touch wider open and you tilted head back into it just a bit. Let you nudge the very tip of your tongue against the edge of his thumb.

"And here I thought you preferred it in your mouth."

He purred it. Knees screamed their desire to give out under you and he let you rock up against him, watched you blinking hard and breathing harder in jagged subtle bursts. His gentle grip on your open jaw allowed for one scant little nod of assent to that absolutely filthy observation. And god, how darkly delighted he looked with the way you came all apart with it. Had to be able to feel the thrumming tension wrung through you in all those long points of contact.

Unable to stand looking up into his face one more second you gave in to the urge of half lidded eyes. Heart hammering at the possibility that any second now he was going to slide that entire thumb into your mouth and you were going to make an absolute idiot of yourself sucking hard upon it. All that hammering seized up as that digit did slip forward, but only a scant fraction, light on the tip of your tongue.

"There's so few little pleasures left in life." He ruminated softly, "Please don't rob me of one more, hm?"

Eyes flicked back up as the full length of you gave one long hard shiver against him, and sure you felt him hum quiet satisfaction at how well he'd undone you. Thumb and grip of your jaw slid away, light brush of fingertips lighting thin lines of wildfire down the column of your throat before touch left. Left you with your mouth still open invitation to him before some internal force beyond that hungry little lizard brain bid you close it already. It took a breath or two before you found your voice, and even then it was a cracked little husk of a thing.

"Yes, Father."

Arms bent, caught press of forearms to his chest, took a moment before you reached up, and how obliging he was to duck his head a little, let you settle the loop of the eye patch over him, careful as you could be with fingers so drunk on adrenaline that they refused to stop trembling. Let you set it over the unblinking eye, and fix the little locks of hair you'd dislodged, smoothing them one by one.

That kind, gracious smile he offered after you were done such stark contrast to the wicked one that had preceded it. Your hands had come to settle on his shoulders and he pulled them down gently by their wrists, kept hold of one, its pulse hot and hard between his fingertips as he stepped back, pulled you along a pace before dropping his grip.

"Come on, then."

So grateful for the walk to the restaurant he chose, for the cold, damp spring air. For the way it cemented you back in your body and worked against the desire to do something more foolish than all the other wild, absolutely insane little impulses you'd already given into today. Hadn't you been mad at him when the morning started? It felt hard to remember why, over what. Not even the dark shadows of knees could lend a helpful reminder. The pair of you fell into easy pace together and you made a mental note to start walking more, take it up as some kind of helpful hobby or outlet for... all this.

The bistro wasn't too far, and a lovely little place. Would have been right at home in Rome or Paris. In spite of the chill you both opted for one of the small outdoor tables on the sidewalk. It seemed to be a regular place of his, the waitress knew him by name and greeted you both warmly. Brought bread and water and two low tumblers of scotch even though they weren't ordered. You stared at yours questioningly. It was barely mid afternoon. He was already sipping on his, watching your struggle.

"You don't drink?" He asked, ice cubes clinking with the rocking of his glass. You set fingertips against the smooth, leaded crystal. Knew it would have a pleasant weight to its heavy bottom when you lifted. Knew how it would burn on the tongue. Toyed with the glass where it sat, swiping a finger against the condensation collecting along amber liquid line.

"No. I mean I do. I'm surprised you do." Lifting the glass you let the fumes of the liquor sear nostrils, oak and sea air and heavy peat moss. Ridiculously expensive Islay. "I'm surprised at a lot of things about you."

Weren't you being frank? Took a steadying sip. Such a lovely burn, and the sea salt air near where the barley had been grown and peat had been harvested like taking the first breath at the beach. That habitually severe expression of his eased with the cant of a smile as his attention fell into his glass.

"I wasn't born a priest."

No kidding. You breathed a little laugh into your scotch and took a second steadying sip.

"What happened?" Hand holding the glass indicated your own eye in lieu of his own.

His jaw tightened a little, as did his grasp on the glass, but you watched him let it wash past. Even if he kept his attention fixed on the scotch instead of you.

"Those two stories are actually one and the same." Thin cut of his mouth tightened and you could watch him sort out his thoughts, sifting rubble from gold slowly in the unreliable sieve of memory.

"I had a near death experience, when I was younger. This," He indicated the marred half of his face, "This was the result. And so was the calling."

Teal eye ticked up to regard you and it felt like the first honest hint of vulnerability you'd seen from him, a little slip of that velvet gloved grip to reveal the hand beneath still human. You kept your peace and gave him space to go on as the food arrived.

"I nearly drowned, back before I was almost twenty. It's a hell of a thing, touching death. There was a moment." Fine brows were furrowed hard against one another, the expression on his face far darker than it ought to be for someone speaking of how they came to the church. You could practically hear thunder behind those clouds. "I swore I saw the face of god. I can't describe it. Afterward it didn't feel like much of a choice."

His focus flicked up toward you, glanced off with a shrug. Painful, to witness that vague vulnerability.

"I've heard that faith is belief without proof." You offered quietly. Reached forward and stole one of the fries from his steak frites. Earned a thin, mirthlessly sad smile that cut a soft little line across the back of your heart. "Feeling proof must be awful."

Cool eye ticked up and caught you hard. Inscrutable and sharp and pained. He nodded slowly, picked up silverware.

"That it is."

You settled into your own dish, ravenous appetite tempered somewhat by the depth of the conversation, but only slightly. So hungry for a hot meal not scavenged from your pantry.

"Oddly enough the only other person involved in the accident that nearly killed me also joined the clergy." He cut a sharp line across his steak and you did not fail to miss the bitter emphasis he put on that one word. Had you glancing up curiously as you brought fork to your mouth. If you'd thought he looked dark before, you'd had no idea. Deep waters, this one.

‘Accident’ turned out to be exactly the euphemism you'd intuited as conversation continued over the unhurried late lunch. Apparently there were gaps in memory, or else things he refused to recognize or give life to out loud. But the implication was heavy that perhaps there was a reason this other young man at the time had been responsible for his near death. And the trauma of it had driven them both to the cloth, for very different reasons.

The fact that the man responsible had scaled the clerical ladder like a charming social climber obviously sat deep bitterness with Silco. It shouldn't have come as any kind of shock that the sparse little parish he oversaw was not his life's ambition, but hearing him allude to it honestly was an open window you were surprised to get a glimpse through.

There was a second round of that lovely scotch. Plates cleared away, and you demurred dessert while he was given a slice of chocolate chiffon pie unasked. You scooped up a coffee spoon and gauged your moment. Lent forward and scooped a lusciously thick scoop of whipped cream off the top of it along with a tiny bit of chocolate. Watched him narrow eyes as you brought it to your mouth. Opened and set that spoon in, scoop upside down to face your tongue. Pulled clean spoon out slow as sweet bloomed against taste buds.

He looked delightedly livid at your boldness. And you gifted him a grin. Glad to pull him out of that ugly mire recollection had spun him away into. Set the spoon down and caught up a scoop of the airy whip upon forefinger. Set your elbow upon the table. Finger a subtle enticement. Nothing but someone casually holding a confection alight in anticipation of indulging themselves if anyone cared to cast a glance your way.

He was not stupid. Gave you a long look coupled with a soundless deep exhalation.

"It strikes me I've done more confessing than you did the other day." He observed dryly. Attention flitting casually between that proffered finger and your face.

It struck you that you both had barely concealed bruises.

"Did you want absolution?" You asked evenly, more bold than you felt by half. Blame the scotch.

He reached out, caught your wrist and leaned forward all in one smooth motion. Had that cream off your finger far too quickly to leave you time to savor. Was already leaning back in his chair and picking up his scotch by the time your finger registered the fleeting warmth of his mouth and the sudden cool chill of wet skin left behind in the air.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked quietly. Knew the answer was yes.

Part IV

#silco #arcane #silcoxreader #penance #arcane fic #priest silco #silco fic #oooh we got some feels this time around

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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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shelikesthosefunnypeople · 1 year ago

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"Today we're talking about Alan Partridge and his repressed bisexuality." YES. Sign me UP.

First of all, I can offer more insight into the Michael drawing! Its first appearance is in Alan's second autobiography or third if we're counting Bouncing Back, Nomad. Alan has a whole chapter about Michael, their relationship, Michael's disappearance after jumping off the pier, and how Alan has regrets, things he wishes he could say to him, and just generally a lack of closure because he doesn't know what happened to him. In fact, as he tells us near the end, every paragraph in the chapter spells out a message to Michael, incase he's still alive.

Alan drew Michael because a therapist suggested it to him. He says he doesn't have any pictures of him because flashes spooked Michael and Alan couldn't figure out how to turn his flash off, so he used Michael's old North Norfolk Digital security pass photo to draw him from. The drawing we see is actually one of several, but it's the one Alan is the most pleased with.

Side note: soooo happy about the return of Michael at the end of the last podcast series! I never expected Michael to come back, or be alive, so that was actually very sweet.

So, Alan Partridge's repressed bisexuality: one of my favourite niche topics of conversation.

There is a tradition, in real life and in fiction, of strait-laced conservative types being very kinky or gay (or both) behind closed doors. These guys practically invented repression, after all. What Alan is willing to be open about has changed over the years - pre and post breakdown is probably the main dividing line, so between S1 and S2 of I'm Alan Partridge.

Alan says at one point in This Time: "As a child, I was always taught to squash my feelings down." We don't know everything about Alan's upbringing, and we only have Alan's biased viewpoint, but clearly his dad was a bit of a cunt and he didn't feel especially emotionally close to his mum, either. Homophobia was definitely part and parcel of his upbringing, which isn't surprising considering the time period and the kind of family he was born into. I mean, the Partridges... they're, uh, interesting, to say the least.

Another sidenote: I assume for several reasons that Alan's Grandad Graham, who he has spoken about very fondly in recent stuff, was his mother's father, not his father's father, so he wasn't a Partridge and was therefore spared the curse of being a twat. Although, Fernando is hopefully bucking that trend.

There is a picture in I, Partridge that Alan says is him as a kid (pretty sure it is indeed a picture of Steve Coogan as a kid). This is the caption:

On the day this was taken, my parents had been called into school by the headmaster because he was concerned my posture had homosexual overtones. He'd been alerted by my tendancy to turn in my right knee and my preference for slip-on shoes. Also note that my father had insisted I tuck my tie into my shorts. In terms of psychological abuse, this was just the tip of the iceberg.

Now, despite the over-dramatising at the end there (Alan also cites being asked to pick up leaves as further evidence of abuse), the headmaster singling Alan out like this for something innocuous just highlights how ingrained homophobia was in all corners of his world. I mean, obviously this is a comic exaggeration of mid-20th century Middle England attitudes, but since we are being all analytical - in kid Alan's world, this is pretty heavy stuff. We know his dad beat him, and I can't imagine his reaction to this chat with the headmaster would have been particularly calm. What will the neighbours say!

As well as this, Alan tells us his mum wouldn't let him read Sherlock Holmes as a child, as she was absolutely convinced Holmes and Watson were a couple and had frequent sex (with Watson being the dominant one). She seemed to have very detailed ideas about it, actually. Dorothy Partridge was a Johnlock anti before it was even mainstream. But anyway, interesting then that Alan as an adult read all of Sherlock Holmes - or so he claims in radio KMKYWAP. To be fair, he may have been lying to look impressive, and he did think Sherlock Holmes was a real person who wrote the books... but these two pieces of Alan lore were created two decades apart, so y'know.

I think all of this explains what Armando Iannucci and Steve Coogan have said at various points about Alan's fear that he might be gay, which means he checks sometimes (eg: Bangkok Chickboys). If doing something as subconscious as turning in your right knee might mean you're gay, you're going to have to be very vigilant with yourself and keep checking to make sure you're not, right? Whatever way people want to read Alan's sexuality, I think that's true about him. Or was, anyway. As you've mentioned, he is more relaxed about it these days.

So, Alan's homophobia and transphobia. What's all that about? Pretty clear roots - fear, toxic masculinity, all the classic shit. Alan's attitudes to queer people have changed a lot over 30 years. Originally, when Alan was at the spikier, less nuanced end of bigoted Little Englander, he was openly hostile to queer people. Examples include Nick Ford, a bisexual lawyer who comes on radio KMKYWAP, and of course Daniella Forest on TV KMKYWAP. As with all bigotry, these incidents reflect on Alan, not the characters he is being bigoted towards. The joke's on him. In the Nick Ford instance, he says something very revealing:

Nick: If this was a normal child, with a normal father, they would sue you immediately. You should be careful. I don't think you'd like it in prison; all those men...

Alan: Listen. What are you insinuating? What are you saying? Are you saying that I, Alan Partridge, would end up in prison and maybe, what? Get friendly with some bloke?

Nick: Who knows, Alan.

Alan: And maybe I'd be in the shower with him, and- and- and- and maybe we'd just start wrestling and mucking about, and then he'd probably start soaping my back down, and then, you know, we'd kiss each other tenderly. Is that what you're saying? Because that is untrue. That is-

Nick: It's all in your imagination, Alan.

Alan: Well, if you're insinuating that's what I secretly want-

Nick: No further questions, Your Honour! No further questions.

This is one of a few excessively detailed gay hypotheticals Alan comes up with. Now, I know excessively detailed is Alan's whole thing, but these are still quite telling. Another one comes a few years later - there are a couple of variants of it, but the basic premise is Alan interviews a gay man played by Simon Pegg and at one stage asks him about a detailed hypothetical scenario wherein Alan goes home with a man. In both variants, Alan is less prickly and hostile about Simon Pegg's character being gay, certainly much less prickly and hostile than he was towards Nick Ford. I mean, he still absolutely puts his foot in it, because he's Alan Partridge, but there has been a slight softening.

The most recent Alan incarnations are more nuanced and have more pathos, which Steve Coogan attributes to the Gibbons brothers. Steve Coogan says the 21st century Alan is a nicer man. Alan does move with the times; you have to give him that. He's still completely a conservative - stubbornly so, in some funny cases - but he's more socially liberal now. I would say Lynn probably holds views further to the right than him, as does his current girlfriend, Katrina have you seen her?.

There's a bit in Mid Morning Matters where he talks to Simon about how he developed "a fairly robust dislike of the gay community" but, thanks to Dale Winton, realised he has absolutely nothing to worry about. Since then, Alan has interacted with other queer characters. In fact, he says in I, Partridge that he and Glen Ponder still go to Nandos together, despite everything that's happened between them. There is still a slight awkwardness when Alan interacts with most people he knows aren't straight, a tension, but I think a lot of that comes from him being terrified of putting his foot in it and being #cancelled. Alan has a paradox going on where he lacks self-awareness, but is also very aware of what things you cannot say publicly. He shows that as early as KMKYWAP, when he tells Elsie Morgan to shut it when she's being racist, so the people who complain that Alan has suddenly "gone woke" are just wrong, actually. He's just not a complete idiot.

Something that has been previously hinted at but only confirmed in the latest series of his podcast is that Denise, Alan's daughter, is gay. Alan and Denise have a complicated relationship if you can call it that. He very obviously favours his son, Fernando, simply for the virtue of being male. Alan doesn't really have anything particularly negative to say about Denise, he just doesn't have much to say at all. Still, the fact he knows Denise is gay says something. When she was growing up, Alan was still openly homophobic. Fernando didn't invite Alan to his wedding and refuses to ever see him (which is fair - would you want this man as your father?), though he does communicate with him by text and lets him spend days with him grandchildren from time to time. I could go off on one about Alan and his grandchildren here, but I will restrain myself.

In This Time, we learn that during Alan's one week of vegetarianism that he had a new free half hour every day due to how much easier going to the toilet was (lovely). He says he spent the extra time reconnecting with Denise, meeting her in his favourite Starbucks for a chat and welcome catch up. So, despite everything that being the daughter of Alan Partridge must entail, she agreed to meet up with him. It is interesting to me both that Alan would think to initiate this and that Denise would go along with it.

Alan is still pretty awkward about Denise's sexuality. We'll have to see if anything else is said in the future. But the Alan Partridge of the early 90s was not a man you would come out to, even if he was your father. Clearly, this is a big shift.

We can see this shift in another facet of his life, too, because, until recently, Alan had a gay friend - and losing that gay friend was not even his fault. Let's think about that for a moment: a man who was once openly homophobic, both scared and disgusted by the idea of being gay, has gotten to the point where he has a gay friend. And that's not all. An episode from the most recent series of From the Oasthouse is all about Alan's gay friend, Adam, who came out to Alan and relied on Alan to cover for him whenever his wife came sniffing. Alan helped him practice coming out to his wife, which is where we get the very hilariously performed line: "How many men have you been with, Adam!?" but also Alan's assertion, said "in character" as Adam's wife, that we've all been tempted by the same sex, but we resist.

Hmm. Is that true? Straight friends of mine tell me no, it is not. As I say, Alan said this "in character" as Adam's wife, but just saying it at all is suspicious.

This episode is all littered with interestingly phrased moments that suggest a queer subtext Alan seems obliviously unaware of. He mentions how several closeted gay men have come out to him in confidence (a terrible idea because Alan can't hold his own piss ever). He thinks this is because they can sense he too is burdened with a dark secret. He alludes to this twice, if memory serves, and both times the secret is something silly that Alan is blowing up to be massive. For example, he says he started telling people he has 4 A Levels when he only has 3 (odd because previously it has been stated he only has 2, but I'm nitpicking).

When Adam's wife finally finds out about his sexuality and decides the solution is for them to move away and start afresh, effectively forcing him back into the closet, Alan is the one who tries to stop Adam from going. He is there by the car before they drive away, telling Adam he can't deny who he is and that he's "a gay pressure cooker". This, I think, is actually quite touching by Alan Partridge's standards and is a million miles away from the interview with Nick Ford. Don't get me wrong, Alan is by no means the ideal person for such a situation - or any situation requiring tact and sensitivity, really - but I think he is trying.

Dear god this idiot man is far too endeared to me.

Similarly, despite being something of a representative of the "gammon" type men in Britain, Alan is different in that he is no longer virulently transphobic. I think he finds identity politics and pronouns and the idea that gender is a spectrum confusing, and he isn't immune from making crass comments about it, but there have been a few recent Partridge things where trans people have been mentioned by him in a way that suggests he wants to be seen as an ally, such as having a transwoman character in a book he was writing. Obviously, he's one of the most performative allies on earth - and I imagine he'd be absolutely terrified of getting caught between TERFs and trans rights activists - but I think it makes sense that he's less reactionary about trans people now than the average gammon type because, as we all know, Alan does have certain, uh, proclivities. The writers could have gone down the route of these proclivities resulting in him being an absolute monster on trans issues, projecting his own internal fears and disgust with himself on to trans people, as he did with Daniella Forest in KMKYWAP, but Alan has evolved since then.

Alan and Michael has been covered, although I will quickly point out how Alan spends almost the entirety of Never Say Alan Again acting like a spurned spouse when he finds out Michael has another friend. He is possessive of Michael in the same insecure, petty, bitter way he is with Simon later, but there is an extra edge of malice to his relationship with Simon that isn't there with Michael, as has been pointed out. Alan's behaviour around John/Bleachy Head through series 2 of I'm Alan Partridge is notable, too - Alan's intimated by him, as he's a working class guy from Manchester, but he recognises John as masculine and clearly wants his approval. Just listen to his voice when John says he thinks Alan would make a good James Bond.

But anyway, Dan.

He's only in one episode, but Dan's surely an important and classic part of the Partridge lore. There is a deleted bit from the scene where Alan sits on the sofa with Dan's wife and she caresses his thigh. The deleted bit involves her mentioning to Alan that she has a girlfriend, and him saying doesn't she mean boyfriend, and her clarifying that, no, she means girlfriend. Behold: a bisexual encounter! Is Dan also bisexual? I mean, he does stroke Alan at one point. Aside from that, there's nothing 100% undeniably overt in the episode, but I'd say the case for him being bisexual is pretty strong. The case grows stronger with another deleted scene, which reveals there are other naked people in the house - truly the sex festival of sex people.

Alan becomes obsessed with Dan pretty quickly. He thinks he's great; he can't believe how much they have in common. Throughout Alan's life, for various reasons, he's been quite lonely, so he absolutely jumps at the chance to make friends with people he wants to respect him. So, especially men. He isn't happy about Lynn meeting Gordon in this episode, so he starts going on about Dan to her, as if to prove hey, my new person's better than yours. Considering Lynn and Gordon do become a couple - and presumably remained one until Gordon's death, which Alan mentions offhandedly in Nomad - the parallel between Gordon and Dan is amusing and a little telling.

Alan is clearly way out of his depth and very uncomfortable with the revelation that Dan and his wife are "sex swappers". Part of this may just be his particular tastes (he wants to snuggle; let him snuggle). I think part of it is also his upbringing leaving him with this conservative sexual guilt. I think Alan is basically hypothetically kinky. Watching Bangkok Chickboys is one thing, because no one else has to know (well, they don't have to know if you don't do this in a Travel Tavern). Pursuing anything like that in real life is different because that makes it real, and then there's always the risk of people finding out.

In Welcome to the Places of My Life, it is implied that Alan has visited dominatrixes in Norwich; it is also implied in Alpha Papa that Bernie, the woman Alan slept with at some point prior to the movie, dominated him during sex, too, and that BDSM went on; it is least clear what went on with Tiff in This Time, but we know there was a mess. The recurrent theme through all of these encounters is Alan's embarrassment or sense of shame, sense that he's done something wrong. He doesn't want to talk about it, despite being the biggest oversharer on earth.

So, what does this tell us? Alan is still sexually repressed, even though he is more experimental than he used to be. He's said at some point that he was a virgin when he married Carol, and we know their sex life became dull. I reckon Sonja was probably the person who widened Alan's sexual horizons, gave him a bit of a confidence boost. Still, the repression runs deep. I don't think he'd ask a partner to do the half the things he'll have asked Norwich's dominatrixes to do. That would make it too real, and we can't have that. That would be wrong. And letting people in, even when you secretly desperately crave that, is just too risky. People will destroy you.

Alan recounts a dream to us in the first series of From the Oasthouse where he inexplicably becomes a woman. The only thing about the dream he won't go into detail about is a man named Luigi, who he says he'd like to thank because he really knows how to treat a girl. That's maybe the closest Alan has ever gotten to admitting his attraction to a man - albeit a man who is just a figment of his subconscious - and he only let himself go with it because he'd become a woman, so in his mind this means it wasn't gay. Such mental gymnastics!

Anyway, the long and short of it is: really, Alan just wants to be a Bond girl for Roger Moore. He's naturally submissive behind the bluster, and I think he wants to be cared for by someone who'll sweep him off his feet (metaphorically). And if this person just so happens to be a big, strong man who can also literally sweep him off his feet, well...

There is... so much that could be said on this topic. Alan Partridge has got to be one of the most fleshed out comedy characters going. He's a dick a lot of the time, but there is such a satisfying amount of depth, pathos, and subtext to his character. Is Alan Partridge ever going to come out as bisexual? I doubt it. Does that matter to me, personally? No. Aside from anything else, I get the impression Alan's black and white way of looking at a lot of things makes bisexuality a difficult concept for him. Just pick a side! I think he'd struggle a lot to come to terms with being bisexual, perhaps moreso than if he was homosexual. But, as a bisexual myself, I'll finish on this.

I know, Alan. I know.

Welcome back to this whole analysis business. Today we’re talking about Alan Partridge and his repressed bisexuality. He’s definitely an interesting character to talk about when it comes to his attitudes with anyone queer!

I’ve probably missed out other stuff, or gotten things wrong, so if that’s the case, feel free to add on or correct me!

It is no surprise to anyone that has seen the Alan Partridge franchise that Alan in his early days is a bigot. He occasionally followed remarks with “and please don’t write in saying that is [discrimination], it’s not” and has a general very dislikable attitude towards those that are minorities. Later on in the franchise he does adopt a much more polite attitude, though keeps quite a bit of stereotypes when discussing minority groups.

His attitude towards queer people, however, is very interesting. Alan describes himself as a “homoskeptic” - thinly veiling homophobia - and acts negatively towards Glen Ponder when he finds out he’s gay. Alan has also shown transphobia, such as dismissing a trans woman on KMKYWAP - though in more recent shows he seems to have become more relaxed.

However despite this open attitude, Alan has a lot of telling facts about him that hint towards the fact he is heavily repressed in his own sexuality.

Let’s talk first about his attitude to trans people. In the I'm Alan Partridge episode Watership Alan, it is revealed Alan watched a short bit of a porno film titled “Bangkok Chickboys” to which he denies to the staff of the hotel. As the conversation goes on, it becomes more and more obvious that Alan watched this on purpose.

Now it’s important to understand the meaning of “chickboy”. Chickboy in this refers to the term kathoey. In English it has two meanings - trans women or effeminate gay men. In Thailand, the term can also mean being intersex.

Another thing of note is that the term is also named “ladyboy” and this is how they are referred to throughout the series. It is made very clear that the meaning of “ladyboy” to Alan is trans women. Alan seems to express some sexual interest, if the above example and his fascination suffice.

—

One of the biggest mysteries of I'm Alan Partridge is what is in the drawer of Alan’s desk.

Episode 1: Lynn: For example, in this drawer… (opens the drawer and pauses, shocked) You, er… you have, er, things, and um… sometimes, you have too many things. (Later in the conversation) Alan: They were there when I moved in.

While Armando Iannucci says that the contents of Alan’s drawer are of magazines of fat women on the toilet (in Dutch) this doesn’t really seem to make sense given Alan’s disgust of “water sports”.

Steve Coogan, Alan’s actor, says in contrast in the commentary for the show that the contents of the drawer is a plastic cock.

However it should be important to know that it was never decided what was really in the drawer. Honestly it’s completely up to interpretation of the viewer, though it very much leans towards something that implies Alan’s repressed sexuality.

Throughout season 1 of IAP, Alan has daydreams where he is acting as a stripper for someone important, most of the time Tony Hayers. Alan seems perfectly willing to let himself act this way in these daydreams, despite the fact that in the real world he has a clear hatred for these people.

Episode 1: Daydream Alan: Would you like me to lap dance for you? Daydream Hayers: (offers money) Daydream Alan: Nuh-uh. I want a second series.

Alan seems to also have some kind of celebrity crush on Roger Moore. He notes him in KMKYWAP as his favourite Bond actor and keeps a framed picture of him in his room at the Travel Tavern. It is also revealed that he keeps this portrait of Moore in his daydreams.

One thing that’s important to know regarding Alan’s sexuality is his relationship with Michael.

While Michael never refers to Alan other than “Mr Partridge” and Alan treats Michael with some disdain, the two have a notably strong bond, with Alan even calling him a friend.

In This Time, we look at Alan’s photo gallery. While his gallery contains photos of, among several things, pictures of Noel Edmonds and Alan posing with a car, one of the photos in Alan’s gallery is Michael, followed by a drawing of him.

The fact there’s a drawing of Michael is very telling. Michael tended to not have any real friends apart from Alan, so it can be implied this is Alan’s own drawing of Michael. But then, why did Alan draw Michael? It seems a tad odd.

When Alan and Michael finally reunite after the latter being missing for a decade in From the Oasthouse, Alan is clearly very happy to see him.

Alan: Oh my god. It’s ringing. I think I might have solved it. … nah, he’s absolutely going to hate- Hello? Michael: Hello? Alan: Michael? Michael: Aye. Alan: Oh my god, oh my god- Michael… it’s- it’s- it’s Alan. […] Michael: Oh hello Mr Partridge! Alan: Yeah, that’s me! Yeah! I knew you’d remember! Michael: Aye. Alan: I- oh my god, I can’t believe I’m talking to you. Michael: Aye. Alan: I can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you. […] Alan: It’s actually you. You didn’t drown then! Michael: Me? No. Alan: Are you alright? Michael: Aye. Alan: Oh I’m glad because we- we used to have fantastic chats didn’t we? […] Alan (after the call is over): Ah, that was amazing. I got goosebumps again now.

While Alan has had friendships (Simon) and rivalries (Simon & Clifton), Michael is the one friend he’s had permanently over his time in the franchise, and is one of the few main recurring characters - alongside Lynn.

—

Anyway thanks for reading my lil analysis on this silly little pathetic guy /aff. Hope you enjoyed reading, and I hope it gave you something to think about.

#me being the most normal person ever about alan partridge #i just find him fascinating like that hypnotherapist from radio kmkywap #alan partridge clinically fascinating #and there is something endearing about him despite his faults #awkward sad man sabotaging his own happiness #alan partridge #bisexuality #long post

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bibbykins · 3 years ago

Text

Double Date

A/N: Hello my dears! I'm not done with the Jin and/or Hobi confession yet but I did write this little flashback last week and think I'm finally ready to post it! This is the situation in which Jimin discovered MC's reaction to yelling, just to clarify. As always, please hop into my ask box and give me some of that lovely feedback!

Note: This is a flashback as part of the drabble series The Household's Bunny, which I recommend reading the installments of prior to this one

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jimin x Chubby! Reader

Warnings: Lying, fatphobia, usage of the word "fat" as an insult, talks of sex, yelling, vomiting, implied previous trauma, bad friend, loser date, verbal argument, implied stalking, yandereish behavior

Summary: On a double date was not how Jimin imagined your first date with him going. Let alone, a double date in which you both are with someone else. The torture of sitting next to his ex and watching you with another man was well worth it to see you up close. He could only hope you and his "date" don't mind his blatant staring at you.

Jimin often wondered how he ended up so stupid sometimes. From prodigy orphan to absolute idiot. It was a little tragic. Here you were, back from the hospital, a smile on your face, sitting across the table from him… and he was on a date with your friend Yoora.

Sure, Yoora was fine, but she wasn’t you. That’s why they had broken up in the first place. He just… didn’t like her. Of course, he omitted the fact was that he liked someone else.

You, on the other hand, were on a date with some lowlife he hadn’t even bothered to remember the name of. Yoora had begged Jimin to go on a date, to which he vehemently denied. He had dated Yoora and things fizzled out quickly, so he saw no value in going on a date again. He only budged with her begging when she said it was for you, who was apparently too nervous to be on a date alone with this other guy. He sprung at the chance to see you outside of class, something he could only hope Yoora didn’t notice. Although, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder why you would go on a date with someone you weren’t comfortable being alone with, but maybe he was just bitter you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him.

You flashed Jimin a brief smile in between your chat with Yoora, making his mind go blank. Fuck, you were so pretty. You wore a simple white turtleneck with a brown plaid skirt and brown loafers with white socks to match. You looked unbelievably cute, even against the aged neon fabric of the chairs at the bowling alley. Not that your date appreciated just how divine you looked, hardly paying you any mind, instead looking around constantly and only really responding to Yoora.

Not that Jimin was being much better to Yoora. His eyes were constantly fixated on you, but both you and Jimin unaware of this blatant fact. He hadn’t been this close to you outside of the classroom in… well, basically ever. He watched with hearts in his eyes as you bowled your second gutter ball. He laughed as you bowed cheekily before returning to the table right as your date went to bowl.

“I’m so full!” Yoora exclaimed as you sat back down, the pizza you both agreed to share only having two slices out of it as you reached to make it a third, “I don’t know how you can eat more than one slice, y/n! Good for you.” She giggled obnoxiously as your moves faltered in setting the pizza on your plate.

Jimin’s eyes landed on Yoora’s form for the first time in the whole night with a displeased look. Her form shrunk under his sharp glare and any future taunts she had planned died on her tongue as you searched for the words to say, “She’s just keeping herself nourished for me, aren’t you babe?” Your date spoke with a slimy voice as he slid in the booth next to you and Jimin watched confusion fill your face. Jimin’s smile noticeably dropped.

"It's a little silly to imagine everything she does is for you, no?" Jimin gave your date a pointed look, all with a smile on his face, as your date also shrunk, nodding awkwardly.

The most input your date ever gave to you directly was about how hot you were or to chide at your poor bowling skills. It was a little painful watching your smile fade throughout the date, and Yoora joining in to try and make you feel even worse wasn’t helping. Jimin couldn't imagine a scenario in which any of this would make you happy, and he just couldn't hold his tongue the entire time.

“I’m just hungry.” You shrugged, figuring Jimin was just being a gentleman in lightly scolding Jihoon, “I eat when I’m hungry, hence the pizza.” You spoke simply as you took another bite. You knew what Yoora was doing. Passive-aggressive slights to your weight in front of romantic partners were not shocking to you in the slightest.

This was why you didn’t want to go on a double date with Yoora. Sometimes she was nice and funny, but other times she was like a mean girl straight out of a teen movie. This was why you considered Yoora more acquaintance than a friend since she only talked to you when she had no other friends around. This dynamic was fine enough since you hadn’t made any friends in college, so having someone to interact with was nice enough, but you drew the line at her getting this intimately involved. However, she insisted she should bring herself and Jimin along for your safety. You had joked you’d like to see Jihoon try to carry you away to kidnap you, but she didn’t laugh.

It was ironic that your weight was only funny when she was making the joke.

Yoora shrunk a bit as she watched a smile grace Jimin’s features again while you ate, “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” She spoke hurriedly out of nowhere and you gave her a small wave.

Your date resumed his survey of the building before his eyes caught sight of something and went wide, “Shit, a friend from my bio lab is here.” He murmured quite loudly before turning to you, “I’ll be right back.” He spoke in a similarly rushed tone as he made a bee-line to the restroom.

You gave Jihoon a weak smile, waving him away when you realized he didn’t even look at you for a response before getting up. Well, there goes another liar. Last night it was, “Baby, you’re so beautiful. I could see myself marrying you. Let me take you on a date and then we can come back to my place and seal the deal.” You were no longer so naive as to think a simple handjob would make Jihoon a romantic, but you did hope it would be enough motivation for him to reciprocate with skill. You hated liars, especially liars who do it to get into your bed. On top of that a horny liar with no skill.

Jimin noticed your date dodge the line of vision of his friend and sneak to the bathrooms and frowned, “Why is he going to the bathroom if his friend is right there?” He mused to himself.

“To hide.” You sighed, making Jimin jump, shocked you heard him. You looked up and saw his confusion before sighing, “He doesn’t want to be seen with me, so he’s going to the bathroom.”

Still short-circuiting from the direct eye contact he was making with you, he sputtered, “Wha- Why would-”

“Look at me.” You poked the sliver stomach between the hem of your top and the top of your skirt. Jimin admired the plush skin before snapping himself from the trance.

He shrugged, “I am, and it makes even less sense.” He finally had the determination to hold eye contact with you without his mind going into overdrive and right as you opened your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated.

You looked down at it with a frown, “Yoora wants me to meet her outside.” You mumbled, before looking up at Jimin, “I don’t think I was supposed to say that to you.” You looked at him with a sorry look, “I’ll be back.”

You pushed the front doors open to see Yoora standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently as she looked around, as if she didn’t send you the text message a mere minute ago. She caught sight of you and her eyes went wide before settling into a smug gaze, “Ah, there you are!” She smiled and it was sickly sweet, “I wanted to tell you Jihoon and I are leaving.”

Ah, she must have been looking around for his car to come around. Well, that’s saving you the awkward conversation of rejecting him, so you shrugged, “Okay.”

Evidently not wanting the nonchalant reaction you gave her she scoffed, “Seriously? You have nothing to say?” For some reason, Yoora would sometimes make it her mission to push your buttons, usually, this was by making you flustered, so you’re not sure what happened to spur on such unadulterated malice.

However, you didn’t really have the energy to dissect it so you shrugged a little more incredulously, “What is there to say? No?” You scoffed, “You guys are consenting adults, you both made a choice-”

“God, you’re so annoying!” Her increase in volume made you jump and also caught the eyes of fellow students and unaffiliated customers just trying to have a night out.

Nevertheless, you blinked wildly, “Me?!” You guffawed, “You’re the one that brought me out here to tell me you’re ditching me and your date?” The whole thing felt so ridiculous.

“Yes, you!” Her hands gestured to you wildly, “My date is oogling you and so I decide to seduce yours and you just say ‘okay’?!” Her volume was increasing and you could feel a familiar nausea pooling in your stomach, “Let me be pissed at you for stealing my date!”

“It’s not my fault I’m hot, nor does that make you less hot.” You countered, not really believing it was you Jimin was interested in, but more so Yoora he wasn’t interested in, “He just doesn’t like you. You said you knew that.” You pointed out, making her falter because you were right. Yoora told you Jimin wasn’t interested in her but she was trying to change that despite your words of caution.

“You? Hot? You’re fat!” Ah, there it was. She was evidently running out of sound reasons to be mad at you but was still not ready to just face the fact that she felt shitty her date looked at the fat girl more than he looked at her.

You couldn’t contain your laugh, “Oh, no shit? I am?” You mockingly looked down at your form, which only seemed to fan the flames.

“Just get fucking mad at me!” She shouted, wiping the smile off of your face

You sucked your teeth, “Stop yelling. You know that yelling makes me-”

She rolled her eyes before losing her mind, “What do I know about you?! You won’t even tell me why you were in the hospital-”

Now you were getting really queasy and annoyed, wanting this to end because at this point she was just yelling at you to feel like less of an asshole, “Because you’ll just tell everyone, and it’s not their business- or yours for that matter!” You felt a little bad criticizing her gossipy nature, but you knew you were going to puke any minute now.

“I’m your friend!” She spat, ironically, in a rather unfriendly manner

You scoffed, “You’re going home with my date!”

This seemed to catch her off guard, almost, almost, making her realize she was simply being an asshole, but she stuck to her guns, “He-He doesn’t even like you!”

“And yet, if we’re such good friends, you’re still going home with him to what? Prove a point to me?!” You were exasperated as you heard his obnoxious car pull up behind you, “I know now he doesn’t like me, that’s what the date was for!” You were beyond tired as you watched her eyes dart between you and the red Mustang, “But now I know that you don’t really like me either.” You sighed and this made her sight settle on your form, her gaze significantly softer.

“Y/n…” Her voice was lower, surrendering.

“It’s fine. You’re not required to like me.” You insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t lie about it.” This time, you felt a little hurt at your own words, but the bile in your throat wouldn’t give you much time to reflect on it, especially as Jihoon honked his horn, like the gentleman he was, “Well? Go on.” You gestured to the obnoxious car as Yoora got in with her head down.

Not even bothering to wait for them to drive away, you ran to the alley on the side of the building with a hand clasped over your mouth. The moment you made it to the dim-lit hallway of brick, you puked your guts out. The bile burned your throat, but you could still feel a careful hand pulling your hair back ever so gently as another hesitantly rubbed your back. The touch was calming and void of judgment. You figured someone assumed you were drunk and was used to being a hero. However, when you were finally done and stood up, you were faced with the most sought-after man of the Arts department.

“Are you… okay?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth and you had no real energy to be all that embarrassed. Vomiting took all the life out of you almost every time.

You simply turned back to look at the mess you made and cringed, “Oh shit.” You spoke slowly, “I should clean that up.” You sputtered.

Jimin merely smiled and shook his head as you turned back to him, “It’s an alleyway, come on, someone will just make a worse mess in an hour.” He handed you a water bottle, “Go ahead and rinse.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, his looks were more than enough to make you feel flustered. He seemed to read your eyes as he turned around.

“Thanks.” You spoke up after you rinsed, “But-”

“Let me drive you home.” He waited to hear your footsteps behind him before pressing onward.

He ignored your protests the whole way to his car, brushing them off with a wave of his hands. You had figured it was just him being cool, but the reality was that he was mentally hyping himself up. Now with his anger at Yoora and your date dissipated, he was back to a bumbling mess when it came to you, even if the nagging worry of what could have happened to you to make you throw up at yelling was an ever-present weight he took on his shoulders. The girl of his dream would be in his car, sitting right next to him, and that was enough to make him short-circuit. His face was getting redder and redder just thinking about it. Not that your polite and melodic voice insisting you can just take the bus helped any. Surely you had to know how beautiful you were? He never doubted you knew until today, and the notion made him frown but also, thankfully, calm down.

By the time he opened the door for you, any hints of redness on his face were obscured by the cloak of night over the sky and the dim street lamps. You gave him a short smile and he had to fight a squeal in his throat. Instead, you were met with a strained look, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he even liked you or if he was just being kind. You entered your address on his phone and he feigned looking at the route as if he wasn't familiar with the area. He then texted one of his housemates a name and a license plate number for information and wordlessly began driving.

You simply looked out the window as he seemingly studied his phone, not wanting to make his possible dislike of you worse. Although, you would prefer him not to like you at this point. You were kind of over people “liking” you by now. Jihoon had done no less than confess his undying love for you mid-orgasm and you were ashamed to admit how excited that had made you feel despite the emptiness that could be felt in the air. You had convinced yourself that could just be how love felt. How would you know any otherwise? Part of you knew you were deluding yourself, even if you would never know what love felt like, you knew it wouldn’t feel like that. It wouldn’t feel like the bittersweet taste of settling for less than you deserve in exchange for an escape from the all-consuming loneliness that surrounded you no matter who you hooked up with.

“I’m, uh, sorry Yoora did that to you. Jimin blurted out, making you look to him and making him clench the wheel.

“It’s not your fault.” You reassured him, “The whole point of the date was to see if this guy actually ‘loved’ me, or even liked me for that matter.” You couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “That post nut clarity must have made him realize he’s a huge liar.” You couldn’t hide the bitterness in your words before you took a breath, “So, how much did you hear?”

“I walked out when I heard her calling you fat.” He stumbled against the words, clearly uncomfortable even repeating Yoora.

You hummed, “Yeah, well, I guess you’re all caught up.” You looked back out the window and Jimin could relax ever so slightly, “I don’t know how I can make her feel threatened. She’s so… loveable.” He frowned at this, “I know I’m pretty, but that doesn’t make me loveable.” He wanted so desperately to say you are loveable. If you weren’t, what had he spent the last year doing? He wanted to slam on the breaks and finally tell you how captivating you are in more ways than one, but the fear of misstepping caged him into his spot as you continued on, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that no one is obligated to love me.” You seemed to be letting all the exhaustion hit you, not even bothering to stop yourself, “It’s okay. I have the next best thing, sex.” Even you seemed to be unconvinced, “Maybe if I ask everyone for sex I’ll feel as content as Jihoon.” You seemed to be getting more and more upset as you dwelled on the topic.

“Why haven’t you asked me for sex then?” Jimin wanted to slam his head on the wheel and call it a night when he heard his voice speak what should have been an offhand thought.

You giggled a bit at this, relieving Jimin a bit, before shrugging, “I don’t want to use you like I let people use me.” You blew a breath, "You called my bluff. I don't wanna use anyone."

“Why do you let-”

“I, too, get horny and lonely.” You laughed bitterly, “People just lie to me that it’s something more when it’s not. Thank goodness I’m a psych major, or else I might believe them each time.” Judging by the melancholy in your words, Jimin doubted you didn’t not believe some of them, and the notion tore his heart in half. However, he was so pinned down by his fear, he couldn’t conjure the words needed.

“I mean, there are people out there who would like you and not just your body.” He spoke and he swore he was breaking a sweat by now.

You shrugged again, unconvinced again, “I’m glad you never asked me for sex.” You murmured and he glanced at you.

“Why?” Was he not your type?

“Because I think you’re a good person,” You gave him one more smile as he pulled up to your apartment complex, “and I’d like to keep thinking that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “Thank you, for everything tonight.” He merely nodded in acknowledgment, throat strangled with a million emotions as he watched you go into your apartment.

Jimin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and drove, as if on autopilot, and let his head plop lightly on the wheel, “Pathetic display, Jimin.” He scolded with a strained voice. He hated this about him. He hated that each time emotions got too real, each time he could not hide behind a charming smile and playful banter, he would choke up. He had been a dance prodigy since birth, since getting scouted by a private school, since Mona adopted him for his career to go even further. And yet, he couldn’t confess to the girl he’s liked for over a year. Instead of staring, he wished he had just asked if you were okay.

He had never imagined you would be nearly as lonely as you felt. Anyone on campus would look at your smile and assume you were doing peachy, but by now, with his observations, he could see when you were faking. Why had he never approached you more to make you smile for real? Why did he remain complicit in fuckers like Jihoon and Yoora’s plight to make you feel less than the perfect girl you are? Who had instilled such an intense reaction to yelling in you? How many times have you thrown up in an alley alone because of the people who knew how to use someone as caring as you? Maybe if he had sat down and eaten that cookie with you, he would be driving the both of you home together.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to do so at this point.

-------

“...Jimin?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at you, all dolled up and a little sweating from performing your final for the class he was your TA for, “You still here?” You giggled as you waved your hand in front of his eyes. You had been the last one to perform, so you figured his brain was fried from watching dozens of dance performances.

His smile grew with yours as he caught your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, “Yeah, I’m here, just got swept away in your performance is all.” He responded cooly and you rolled your eyes mockingly, “I’m serious, it was beautiful.” He brought your hand up, placing a kiss on your palm.

“Well, I had a wonderful training buddy.” You interlocked your fingers behind his neck as he laced his fingers on the small of your back. The PDA made you feel giddy, like a girl in her first relationship showcasing her wonderful boyfriend to the world, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He studied your face, your form, your everything for a moment. He basked in the glory of having someone as beautiful as you within his reach at long last. He thought back to each practice session and each kiss that came with it and couldn’t help the glee that spread in his chest. The glee was only further amplified by the very emotion on your face and he couldn’t fathom how he ever lived with himself seeing a fake smile on your face most days.

“You know I love you, right?” He blurted, making both of your eyes widen. Had he seriously just done that? Had he seriously confessed his love to you while the rest of your dance class waited to be dismissed? The air was still before he spoke again, “Could you do me a favor and beat the shit out of me?” He asked, making you giggle. Your joy was contagious and he found himself laughing too, in spite of the millions of emotions at confessing his love so suddenly.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips even if you tried. There was something so weightless about Jimin’s love, yet so meaningful. Where Yoongi had been intense and passionate, Jimin was bashful yet honest. It was this floaty feeling that made you lean up to his ears and whisper, “I love you too.” You beamed at him with a genuine smile and his heart soared.

“You do?” He asked excitedly, “You don’t have to, you know?” He reassured you and you could only chuckle.

“Oh well, if I don’t have to…” You joked as you moved to pull away from him, but he pulled you closer.

“I take it back- You have to.” He hurriedly spoke, “If… If you mean it.”

You nodded, a blissful smile on your face as you leaned up to kiss him, “I mean it, and it’s really nice being able to know you mean it too.” You whispered in his ear and in a moment of pure joy, he lifted you and spun you around, not caring about who saw or stared. You squealed at this, enjoying the moment of careless affection. He set you down with a slow kiss and you couldn’t help but melt into his form.

“You ready to go home?” He asked with a gleeful tone. You nodded excitedly and watched with hearts in your eyes as he dismissed the class with his hand in yours. He was always happy to display your relationship, even telling the professor in case he didn’t want Jimin grading your work. He announced it to the class with a blissful look and posted you all over any and all social media accounts he had. He had never been more proud to have someone by his side, and it made you emotional more than once. He held your hand in his as you walked to the car, swinging your arms just to hear your melodic laugh.

You checked your phone as Jimin closed the car door when you got in, “Oh, Hobi’s flight got delayed until tomorrow and Jin has to stay late tonight.” You mumbled, deep in thought for a moment, “And everyone else has something going on, so I guess it’s just me and you for dinner. One last night of freedom before you have to be busy too.” He placed a hand on your thigh as he drove and he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to mentally hype himself up to do it each time.

“Do you want to pick up dinner or just cook at home?” He asked cooly, masking his sheer glee at the domestic implications in his question.

You hummed, “I can cook something if you want,” You noted before a mischievous smile grew on your face, “My love.” You teased the pet name, making Jimin brake abruptly as he was getting out of the parking spot, his arm holding your body back from pushing forward. You gasped before you dissolved into laughter.

“Hey! Are you trying to make me crash?!” His face was beet red as he lectured you about car safety and how words can shake his whole world the whole ride home, and you had never been more enchanted by a flustered lecture in your life.

Eventually, he was finished lecturing you and the car was filled with laughter and light quips. He wondered how he ever lasted this long without you by his side, but he was glad he would no longer have to.

Tip Jar

#bts #bts scenario #yandere bts #bts fanfic #yandere jimin #park jimin #bts angst #bts fluff #yandere park jimin #poly bts au #poly bts #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #bts drabble

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booppooo · 3 years ago

Note

I would like to request prompt 2, the reader's pronouns are gonna be she/her, and the whole plot of this oneshot is gonna be where Manny and Mel are on the supply run and Abby is left with reader in the car. They want to relieve themselves so reader eats Abby out in the car. Abby squirts a lot, please and thank you🥰

Gotta Make This Quick

AN: Ask and you shall receive....eventually.

Warnings: unestablished relationship, semi-public sex, lesbian sex, oral, squirting

Word Count: 1743

Third POV:

It was just another simple supply run, nothing special to it. Only this time Y/n had been assigned to tag along in lieu of Abby's favorite girl - Alice. An extra set of hands were always nice in this world considering every horrible possibility could happen at any moment. So the solider didn't mind seeing Y/n hop in that back seat with her, if anything she was looking forward to this supply run, however the other two passengers couldn't say the same.

Mel always tried to brush off the fact that she hated how much she made Abby smile - purely because she hated to see Abby so happy in the first place. "I don't have an opinion on her, she's just a good fighter," she'd shrug and turn her nose up. Manny (surprisingly) was on Mel's team in terms of Y/n as well. Though it brought him great joy to see Abby laugh and carry on, Y/n was Abby's greatest distraction and therefore there were a lot more mistakes made than there needed to be. They were a better duo when they were safe inside the stadium, but more of a disaster in terms of a combat. Needless to say, the job always got done and that's all that mattered at the end of the day.

The terrain was rocky and bumpy as always as Manny sped down what was left of the roads. He slowed to a stop at an old warehouse that had yet to be picked through since the Seraphites always patrolled it so heavily, but after finding out their schedule the WLF was able to find a time to squeeze in and sweep the place. And since that time window was so small, Mel urged the two giggling friends to stay behind and keep watch.

"What the hell Mel?" Abby protested while tugging on the door handle.

Mel stepped over to Y/n's window, "Stay here, we'll only be a few minutes."

"Yeah but you didn't have to lock - fuck." Abby scoffed and turned to her friend, "What if there's an emergency and they get ambushed?!"

Y/n slumped in her seat and rolled her head toward Abby, "Obviously they're betting on no one showing up. Just relax."

Abby rolled her eyes, "You're fucking kidding me right?"

"Couldn't be more serious babe."

And at that Abby's pretty freckled cheeks burned a soft crimson. Her mind fell fuzzy while her palms began to sweat against her rifle. She broke the tense eye contact and darted her gaze around the vehicle.

"They're... they're not doing this very smart." she continued, but Y/n had tuned it out and was completed infatuated with the way she had made Abby crumble.

Daringly she took a step further by inching closer and nonchalantly resting an palm over Abby's gorgeously massive thigh. It wasn't hard to miss the way the blonde's breath got caught in her throat - adorable. She lazily drew circles on the rough fabric and gazed up to Abby.

"You're so tense, what's got your panties in a bunch all the sudden?" Y/n teased and didn't bother to suppress the shit eating grin on her face.

Abby swallowed the spit pooling in her mouth. Though she was a blushing, sweating mess, she was absolutely loving every moment of this. Should she entertain it?

Abby softly shook her head and forced herself to stare out the window. This was surely just Y/n being her flirtatious, silly self.

Then her hand came up and squeezed softly on Abby's exposed bicep. It was like she was holding a flame against the hard muscle and lit Abby's entire body on fire. Her thighs pressed together and Y/n's nails dug into her pants. This was overwhelming in all the right ways, but Abby still wasn't sure her intentions.

Her warm breath fanned across the soldier's neck, "I know a thing or two about how to de-stress."

This woman who was known for being the strongest and sturdiest solider quickly felt her heart and mind melting at her friend's words. Just like a flip was switched and she completely folded over. Y/n was nearly foaming at the mouth; it was now or never.

With that she guided Abby's beautiful features to face her and they shared the most lustful kiss. Of course with the ticking time bomb Abby had been she soaked up every bit of touch Y/n offered her and found herself grabbing and feeling along her body. She had built her up and broke her down to the point where she was nearly feral. Abby loved the way she hated all the teasing.

Of course the strongest tried to settle her place over Y/n, but she wouldn't go down so quickly, after all it was Y/n's idea. She pulled away from the intense making out to smirk at her freckled companion and shove her shoulders down against the old leather seats. Again Abby's breathing failed her and left her abruptly while her heart hammered against her chest (not to mention the heat and slick accumulating in her pants).

But before the fun could continue Abby was struck with reality, "We're really gonna fuck here? What if someone sees?"

What a ridiculously question, Y/n thought.

"All the better."

Before Abby's rational could put up a resistance Y/n was earnestly working to remove Abby's cargo pants. Time was of the essence and both of them were well aware of that, but the desire swirling inside the car was just too overpowering to be ignored or interrupted.

The fighter laughed mockingly seeing the wet spot that had shamelessly formed on Abby's panties, "You're so fucking perfect." As expected the praise went straight to the blonde's core before even reaching her brain.

Y/n was ravenous and hasty in her approach. She nipped and licked and kissed all along those thighs she had dreamed to be between for an embarrassingly long time - it really was a dream come true. Then the underwear were ripped down her legs, thighs pressed open and against her strong torso, and Y/n's tongue went to work.

"Ah!" Abby cried out and smacked a hand over her mouth. All Y/n could do was laugh.

The goal: do whatever it took to make her cum as quickly as possible. Mel and Manny could be sprinting out those doors any second and there wouldn't be time to redress.

"Mmm fuck.." Y/n groaned and continued her ministrations.

Abby found herself trying not to shoot up to cloud nine, reaching and grabbing at whatever she could to give her a sense of reality. It was like she had the wind knocked out of her and each time Y/n's swirled her tongue deliciously over her clit a spell was casted on her. It was hopeless, Abby was hopeless, there was no way she was lasting very long.

And she didn't last very long, because in an instant that hot coil in Abby's abdomen snapped, her eyes rolled back into her head and she was crying into her hand. Y/n was elated when her lips, chin, neck, and chest were gushed on and drenched, in turn fueling her to work more fervently until Abby couldn't take it.

Those famous thighs began to tremble and Abby breathlessly begged Y/n to stop and tried squirmed away. How she wanted to continue to feast on her until she was an absolute mess of a person, but their circumstances were not in their favor and Abby was incredibly embarrassed at the fact she had squirted for her first time. Needless to say it was one of the most intense orgasms she had experienced to date but she never knew that would be the result.

Of course Y/n being the lady she was, cleaned up the mess she had made on Abby with her tongue, not missing a spot. The taste was unforgettable and her next mission was to get this wonder of a woman in her bunk. But for now they needed to get her dressed and Y/n's shirt changed.

Almost as if on cue, Y/n finished tugging a new shirt over her torso as Mel and Manny came darting from the warehouse, tossing the supplies in the trunk and throwing themselves into their seats.

"Everything okay?" Y/n wondered as Manny began to tear out of the scene.

"One of 'em saw us so we're leaving before we get ambushed. How were things out here?" Mel turned in her seat.

Abby instantly became flustered and her gaze retired to the window.

"Couldn't have been better." Y/n smirked.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut

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tainted-wine · 5 years ago

Text

Caring For Your Hormonally-Charged Bird

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(I didn’t mean for this to turn into a monster with over 7k words, but I finally finished it. This is based off of my mutant headcanons and also takes some inspiration from user kazooli’s awesome thirst posts about Hawks. Happy Springtime, everyone!)

Edit: Now there’s a Part 2!

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

The songs of lovestruck birds rang across the streets. Freshly bloomed cherry blossoms rained petals down onto the pavement. Butterflies and bees hovered around the flourishing flowers. It was undoubtedly a beautiful day. Too bad you had to spend it in an office with an oncoming headache. A familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Wow, look at that. I don’t know what’s more gorgeous; the scenery outside or the lady staring at it.”

Hawks’s charm doesn’t affect you when he has pissed you off so many times in such a short span.

You’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working for the Hero Public Safety Commission for several years, from supporting public events to endless desk work. The pay was generous and life was overall more comfortable. All you had to do to stay on their good side was comply with every demand, ignore the condescending tones of the bigwigs, and turn a blind eye whenever you witnessed the occasional sketchy practice.

When they offered you a job as the personal handler of one of the top heroes of Japan, you almost fainted. You have always been a fan of Hawks. Fast, handsome, charismatic, he may not have the godly strength of All Might, yet he still felt just as flawless. You’ve been helping and guiding the winged young man since last summer and learned that he’s even more than what you imagined. He wasn’t just good-looking, he wasn’t just a sweet-talker…

He was also a fucking nightmare to work with.

You turned around to see said man ogling you a bit more than you were used to, his trademark crooked smile on his face, but you ignored that and went straight to business. “Your carelessness is trending again for the third time this week, Hawks.”

He drew a sharp breath in an exaggerated gasp. “Again? Oh, what could they possibly be on my ass for this time? Was I smacking on chicken wings too loudly in public? Did they catch the moment I almost flew into that crystal-clear window?”

You whipped out your phone, already prepared to show him a news page with a rather shocking photo. A man with an elegant and sleek appearance was beaten and bruised, his dazzling peacock tail fanned out behind him. The attacker was none other than Hawks, who was gripping the other man by the collar, his wings fully spread out with several sharpened feathers floating around his victim as an unnecessary precaution. It was a very aggressive display.

‘HAWKS LAYS SMACKDOWN ON PERVERTED PEACOCK’ was the headline.

“This is beyond excessive force. You could have just as easily restrained him with your quirk.” You scolded, fixing him with the steely authoritarian stare that you’ve been working on.

Hawks flinched, but you couldn’t tell if he was just playing with you or not. “Ma’am! I was simply defending the girl’s honor! She was very clearly uncomfortable and besides, wouldn’t flashing his tail like that be considered indecent exposure?” Yeah, that tone told you that he was clearly not intimidated.

“No, and even if it did, indecency and harassment wouldn’t excuse such a violent subduing. Furthermore,” you gestured at his threatening wing display in the photo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were demonstrating similar behavior.”

He simply shrugged. “Just showing him who the bigger bird is around here.”

Your eye twitched. “For God’s sake, Hawks, you’re not an animal. Part of my job is ensuring that you maintain a friendly image that will keep the public at ease. This is not friendly. Shall I go through some of the comments for examples?” You scrolled down and cleared your throat in preparation. “Anyone else put off by how violent Hawks looks here? I didn’t know he had it in him to beat someone down like that. He’s usually all about being quick and efficient.” You scrolled down to the next one. “What’s the deal with Hawks? I was there and it was like watching a cockfight.” You clicked on a reply to that particular comment. “I know, right? I always wanted to meet Hawks in person, but after that, I was honestly too scared to-”

“Hold on, babe, I know you’re cherry-picking here,” Hawks, the little bastard, had taken out his own phone while listening to your reading. “Because those are nothing like my personal faves that I found on my Tweeter page.” You watched with silent frustration as his eyes scanned his phone until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here we go. ‘Oh my GAWD, that look, those spread wings, he looks like such a beast!” He had raised the pitch of his voice for a mock feminine tone. “Leave it to Hawks to make all of us women feel safe. That pervert deserves to lose a few more teeth.’ Oh, and here’s the winner right here. ‘Just as I always expected, that hunk of a bird knows how to dominate. I can just imagine him towering over me, giving that same look while I take his big fat-”

“Hawks.”

He paused, but his shit-eating grin didn’t fade when he noticed your head being held in one of your hands. You hoped he didn’t notice that you were trying to hide the red that crept into your cheeks.

“…cock.”

You groaned loudly enough to most definitely be heard outside of the office. There truly were days when he would cut you some slack and be easy to deal with, but he has become downright unbearable for the past few weeks. His teasing has increased ten fold, yet he’s also been keeping his distance from you for whatever reason. It had taken you a while to notice, but he was normally more than happy to get in your face and ruin your professional act, but now, even when you’re the one trying to approach, he would casually step back to prevent the gap between you from closing.

And then it hit you.

Shit, it shouldn’t have taken you this long to connect the dots. You had even noticed how his wings appeared to be a shade brighter for the past few days, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. No, he had grown in his spring plumage.

“Uh, babe? You still there? Did the ‘C’ word break you?” Watching you stare into space was getting him a little concerned.

“You’re rutting,” was your simple reply.

Hawks’s face flashed into something more serious for a split second before giving a ‘tsk’ and looking away. “Took you long enough,” he scoffed. “Surprised the Commission hasn’t fired you for letting me go wild for so long. They must not have any replacements available right now.”

“Watch it,” you ordered. You pondered for a moment before asking, “Have you not been taking your hormonal medication? I know that you’ve been prescribed some for this time of year.”

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, as if he was the one who should be feeling annoyed right now. Bitch, please. “Sometimes,” he muttered.

“Sometimes? They don’t work if you only take them sometimes, Hawks. I know you’re a busy hero, but you can put some effort into keeping track of your dosage.”

“Look,” it was the first time you’ve seen a genuine scowl on his face, the expression taking you back. “I just really hate that stuff, okay? They sap all of my energy and I put on a few extra pounds.”

You shook your head at his complaints. “Is that really worse than what you’re dealing with right now?”

“Yes. I’d rather be a horndog than a slug that doesn’t even have the will to move. It wouldn’t even be so bad if I could just sleep around every now and then, but that’s more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t wanna make your job that miserable.” He eyed you up and down for a minute, while you tried not to shy away from his piercing gaze. “Or I could find just one loyal partner that will help me scratch the itch?”

You stepped back, your heart racing at the unspoken request. “E-excuse me?” you stuttered.

Hawks raised his hands harmlessly. “Hey now, it’s just a suggestion. I’m pretty into you, you’re obviously into me, this could work out pretty well.”

An array of emotions were flowing through you, but you were more upset than anything else. “And what exactly makes you think I’ve been ‘into you’, as you’ve said?” Denial. You’re pretty sure that’s what this is. You know that you’ve been attracted to him since before you even met, but you weren’t going to let this overgrown brat have his way.

His sudden burst of laughter startled you. “You’re kidding, right? I still remember that look you had the first time we were in this room together, and it wasn’t the innocent ‘I wanna support my favorite hero’ look,” He was willingly approaching you for the first time in what felt like forever, every step sounding like thunder to your ears. “It was a ‘bend me over the desk and fuck me’ look.”

You were the one stepping back this time. You wanted to remind him not to use such foul language, to berate him for making such vulgar claims, but your voice was caught in your throat.

“We’d be doing each other a favor, right?” he continued, wings slowly expanding. “Keeping me in top shape is part of your job, isn’t it? I promise you that I’m gonna feel a lot better after this.”

You bumped into his desk, leaning back slightly as he finally closed the distance. His wings draped around each side of you, filling your peripheral vision with pure red. His face was only inches away from yours as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve been smelling so damn good lately. Been afraid that I just might pounce you if I get too close.”

A thickly gloved hand reached out and cupped your face with such a surprising amount of tenderness, you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel bare. You were so entranced by his lustful gaze that you couldn’t find it in you to resist as he leaned in, feeling his hot breath as his lips drew closer to yours.

The door busted open accompanied by a shout. “Hawks sir! Your help has been requested at-OH!”

A genuine growl rumbles through Hawks’s throat and damn, that makes you tremble. By the time he turns toward the stumbling sidekick, he was already back to his cool and friendly self.

“Don’t stop on my account, buddy,” he beamed the younger man with an unwavering smile. “What’s the request?”

———

The next day, you tried very hard to pretend that little office incident never happened. You were not going to let something so unprofessional ever happen again. That was a promise.

Hawks, on the other hand, was being a persistent bastard. You were determined to win this battle. If he wanted the urges to go away so badly, then he can take his damn medication like he always has, not use your lack of authority and experience as an excuse to rebel. The only reason you haven’t informed the Commission about this is because you know that your head will be on the chopping block as well as Hawks’s. You will most definitely be in some shit once they realize that you can’t keep their most prized possession in check.

And to be fair, as the week went on, you really were wondering if you were cut out for this job. With his wings getting more vibrant, his advances becoming more frequent, and his feral rivalry against other men growing more severe, Hawks has officially become too unruly for you to handle, and you’re the goddamned handler. You couldn’t lose this job! What if they terminated you completely and you couldn’t get another position from the Commission?

You paced back and forth in the empty office. Hawks was late this morning, leaving you alone with your endless worries. He may act lazy, but he was never actually late for his meet ups. Looks like you’ll have to call him and pray that nothing serious has happened.

You jumped when your phone vibrated before you even reached into your pocket. Ah, looks like Hawks reached out before you did. You held your phone up, prepared to answer, and froze.

It wasn’t Hawks. It was the deputy, the very man that was kind enough to give you this job. He hasn’t called you since your first few days here to help get you started. With your progress, you doubt he was calling to give you a raise.

Well, as much as you wanted to throw the phone out of the window and find an appropriate place to bury yourself, you didn’t make it this far by cowering from these guys. Taking a deep breath, you picked up and greeted the man on the other side with a steady voice. “Good morning, Deputy.”

He addressed you with the same bored and unimpressed tone that you hear from every member in this cursed organization. Jeez, if you keep working here long enough, are you going to eventually sound as soulless as them? “I assume you are aware of Hawks’s current condition?” he asked.

Dammit. “My apologies, sir. I know that I have been neglectful of Hawks’s health and his behavior during this time. I have been doing my best t-”

“That isn’t the issue I am talking about, but thank you for confirming that you have indeed failed in keeping Hawks’s unsavory habits under control.” You flinched. Way to rat yourself out. “Hawks had managed to find and subdue the troublesome villain Libido.”

“Ah, of course. I have been informed of that, sir.” Libido was a cunning little criminal that has been causing trouble all over the city of Fukuoka. His ‘Love Breath’ quirk gave him the ability to exhale fumes with powerful aphrodisiacal qualities. The guy even made his own gas bombs, releasing them among unsuspecting crowds in the public. He was less of a villain and more of just a chaos-loving hoodlum that was too slippery for his own good.

The deputy carried on. “One of the sidekicks has told us that Hawks was exposed to his quirk.”

Oh. Oh dear. That’s some strong stuff to be subjected to.

“We have ordered Hawks to go home immediately and wait patiently instead of heading to a hospital. We will be sending treatment his way.”

Some of the tension left your body. “That’s good to know, sir. May I ask what kind of treatment he will be taking? I know I haven’t convinced you yet, but I want to do anything I can for his well being.” You hesitantly asked. Please, oh please let me make up for everything that has been happening.

You heard a faint chuckle from the other end. “That’s very good to know, because the treatment is you.”

You’re glad he couldn’t see the confusion on your face. “I’m sorry, sir. Are you saying I’ll be the one to doctor him? I’ll need to know what medicine he needs and how much rest he’ll be expected to-”

“Do you know how people affected by aphrodisiac quirks are normally treated?” he interrupted you for the second time. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before continuing. “Given your questions, I’m assuming that you don’t. We can indeed offer drugs to weaken the effects, but Hawks will still be in great distress and will take a long time to recover, especially since he’s neglected to take his hormone medication with the help of an incompetent handler.” Ugh, you get it already. You screwed up. “But the quickest and most efficient remedy is, without a doubt, sexual contact and allowing the quirk to run its course. That is what we expect you to provide for him.”

What.

You took a full minute to collect your thoughts and ensure that you heard everything correctly. The deputy waited patiently. How kind of him. Once you gathered yourself, you conjured the most constructive response you could think of.

“Huh?”

An overly loud sigh sounded in your ear. Hey, it’s his fault for dropping this bomb of a request on you. “We can’t have the number two hero out of action for too long. The alternative is to strap him to a bed and sedate him for an uncertain amount of time. His rut has enhanced the quirk’s effects; this may even strengthen his arousal for the rest of the season.”

Your face paled. That sounds ten times worse than the way Hawks was already acting. “So, if I were to…be with him,” you blushed at the very thought. “That would provide the best relief?”

“That is the gist of it. You told me you would do anything for Hawks’s well being. Can I hold you to that?”

Your pounding heart was almost drowning out his voice. You didn’t mean to corner yourself like this. “O-of course. I’ll see what I can, um, do.” This discussion was getting uncomfortable.

“I didn’t expect you to be so hesitant. You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.” He laughed at his own joke. You sure as hell weren’t laughing with him.

“Yeah, of course, sir,” you grumbled. “I suppose I shouldn’t leave Hawks alone for too long. I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You’ll need to take some precautions, of course. Here’s what you need to keep in mind…”

———

You walked out of the local pharmacy, cradling the pills tightly to your chest like some sort of security blanket. The deputy’s advice echoed in your head.

“It’s best that you take contraceptives. Hawks’s mind will be clouded with feral cravings, such as the urge to breed. He is not going to accept condoms.”

You tossed the pills onto the passenger seat in your car.

“Again, Hawks is suffering from both the magnified effects of Libido’s quirk and his annual rut. It’s possible that he will not be of sound mind. If things get out of hand, you have the right to protect yourself.” the deputy paused for a moment. “Just try not to leave any marks on him, if you can. Hawks must look presentable at all times.”

Well, you did have a stun gun that you thankfully never had to use, and hopefully it will stay that way.

The deputy’s help made you way more anxious than before. Were you about to have sex with a horny man, or tame a dangerous beast? You still didn’t know what to make of this predicament.

You take your phone and select Hawks’s number. It’s probably best not to surprise him at his door. Hopefully he wasn’t too riled up and ignores your call.

The phone rings once, then twice, then you hear…whimpers? Shit, was it getting that bad?

“Hawks? Are you there?” you asked calmly.

“Babe.” Goodness, his voice was rough. He sounds like he just ran across the country. “Oh thank God. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

“Wha—no.” This was a mistake. You really weren’t prepared for such levels of horniness. He just blurted that out like it was nothing! “Look, um, I heard your urges are becoming too much to handle. I’m heading on over there to…help you.”

For a while you just heard what sounded like breathless laughs and weeping. Hearing him in such a fragile state had you genuinely concerned. “Y’serious? We’re-ah-we’re gonna fuck?” He was panting heavily between words.

Heat was gathering in your face. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Get over here-fuck-so I can stuff you, babe. You’re gonna be mine. Oh I can’t wait to fucking have you.” This sounded like a goddamned porno and you couldn’t handle it. There was a strange sound in the background as he rambled, something like wet smacks. You kept hearing it in sync with his grunts and…

Oh.

“Just hang in there, alright?” You said quickly, wanting to end this call right now. “I’m coming.”

“Well, I’m not. My hand’s really not doin’ it for me. Gotta be inside you, babe. Gotta cum in that tight-“

You hung up.

You banged your head against the steering wheel harder than intended, but at least the pain got your mind off of…whatever all of that was. You can’t believe you just heard your favorite hero breathlessly talking about how he wants to bang you while jerking off. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this mortified, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the tingle between your legs.

Hawks, one of the top heroes of Japan, the heartthrob of the generation, was lusting for you. It had you both excited and on edge. You remember the deputy’s comment.

“You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.”

You probably would indeed be thrilled if the circumstances were less dire. Your fantasies normally involved something simpler and more romantic, not saving him from his own sex-hazed mind. You still weren’t sure what you were walking into, and that was admittedly a different kind of excitement.

There was no time to waste with the state Hawks was in. Calming your nerves, you started your car and began taking the route to his place.

———

Here you are, at the doorstep of Hawks’s house. His place was surprisingly humble for a top hero, it made this encounter just a little less nerve-wracking. Pressing a finger to the buzzer, you waited anxiously, rocking back and forth on your heels. You really hope he’ll be dressed decently when he answers the door.

Your heart skips once you hear a click and the doorknob twists. It feels like it takes an eternity for the door to open and reveal…nobody.

Instead, you were greeted by a small flock of feathers suspended in the air. They slowly floated a distance away from you before stopping, as if they were waiting for something. You cautiously stepped inside, some of the feathers closing the door behind you. You don’t know what type of welcome you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The feathers guided you, drifting up a flight of stairs and into a room with its door hanging open. You can hear harsh breathing inside, reigniting your fear. “Hawks?” You hesistantly called out without getting any closer.

A cracking voice cried out your name. “Help me. It fucking hurts. I’m so hot. Make it stop.” He sounded like he was crying. The desperate pleas prompted you to mask your fears for the umpteenth time and approach the room, taking in the sight of the man that has been waiting for you.

Hawks was naked, not to your surprise, but still to your absolute horror. He sat on his bed, skin glistening with sweat and a deep blush spreading throughout his upper body, making him look more feverish than aroused. His chest heaved with the irregular breaths that left his hanging mouth. His hair was even more unruly as usual, some of his locks sticking to his damp face. Your eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated and looking right through you.

He looked awful.

You came closer, trying your best not to stare at the very swollen and throbbing member between his legs. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, stopping right in front of him. “I didn’t think it would get this bad. I-I want to help. Just tell me what to do.”

He was on his feet the moment you finished, nude body just inches away from yours, but you kept your feet planted where they were. As his large wings slowly opened and enclosed around you, you noticed how brilliantly hued his feathers have become, practically glowing a vivid scarlet. It was captivating.

Two clammy hands came up to hold your face, the same hands he was furiously pleasuring himself with just a moment ago holy shit, and his mouth was on yours before you could even react. You gasped in shock of it all, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. It was less of a kiss and more of just him hungrily ravaging every inch of your mouth, your own tongue wrestling with his to keep him away from the back of your throat. One of his arms lowered to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against his bare form, making you yelp when you felt his erection pressing against you. Hawks’s dick was on you.

You were too overwhelmed by his restless mouth and his DICK to notice the stray feathers hovering over you. A tug and a loud rip made you jolt. Hawks held you still, the sound of expensive fabric tearing making you flinch as your skin was slowly being exposed. The feathers were shredding your clothes.

You pulled away from his suffocating mouth just enough to take a breath and attempt to speak. “Hawks! Wha—” only for him to smother you once again.

“Don’t move,” he uttered between kisses. “Don’t want to cut you.”

With a few more slashes, your cherished suit was now scattered on the carpet in tatters, revealing your body to him, but the feathers weren’t done. The floating blades carefully slid under your panties and bra. You stood completely still, Hawks kissing you with less aggression in an attempt to soothe you as the feathers sliced through the last of your clothes. You were now just as bare as him. He simply held you tightly, face rubbing against yours with the occasional lick against your heated skin. Your eyes were closed shut, unable to process his frantic tongue, his surrounding body that felt like fire, his cock that was now pressed to your stomach you were going to drop dead holy shit.

“Smell so good. Tastes so good.” he groaned, still sounding short of breath. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking at it hungrily and giving the occasional nip, forcing a faint moan out of you. He continued his descent and reached your breasts, molding them roughly and attacking your nipples with hard sucks. Despite the rough treatment, a tight heat was building up in your abdomen, your hands cradling his head as he explored you. He ventured lower, now on his knees with his face right at your womanly mound.

Your heart was pounding when he leaned in, his nose lightly touching you as he drew in a long breath and giving a pleased sighed. His nose pressed in further and poked at your glistening pussy, your thighs clenching in surprise while he happily took in your scent. Fuck, he was really just kneeling between your legs and smelling you. You were ready to protest and tell him that this was getting too embarrassing before something wet and hot slid against your folds, replacing your planned words with a yelp.

Hawks apparently approved of your taste, strong hands grasping the back of your thighs as he brought you in closer to fully devour you. Your cries were impossible to hold in while he lapped at you, mind becoming too clouded with pleasure to stay modest. He moaned loudly into you, the erotic sound vibrating against you, tongue fondling every inch of your folds before his lips closed around them, sucking greedily and almost making your knees collapse. You were getting close, grasping onto his head in a desperate attempt to stay balanced, his mouth now assaulting your sensitive bud. Your blissful whimpers joined the filthy sounds of his feasting when your orgasm washed over you like throbbing magma. Once your legs lost the last of their strength, Hawks set you down gently on the floor, still licking your sensitive lips.

“Ah, Hawks…too much…” You whined weakly.

He got the message and pulled away to immediately climb over you, giving you a clear view of his face glistening with your juices. Bright wings were fully spread out once more; it feels like you were about to be taken by an angel, the most savage angel you could ever imagine.

He came down for a sloppy kiss, spreading your own womanly nectar all over your lips. “Hope you’re nice and ready now. Ready to take everything I’ve got.” He mumbled against your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and feel grateful that even in such a frenzied state, he was still kind enough not to jump you the moment you were within sight.

You brought a hand up to caress the side of his face, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch like the needy animal that he was at the moment. His body was still unnaturally hot and he was still breathing harshly. It’s time to finally give this poor man some relief.

“Go ahead, Hawks. I’m all yours.” You were indeed ready for everything he has.

Hawks said no more, gripping himself and aiming right for your opening. The moment his head was pushing past your lips, he thrust forward, filling you completely and knocking the wind out of you.

You honestly thought he came right then and there with the totally profane howl that left him. “Fuck…!” he choked, looking on the verge of tears. Despite the seemingly paralyzing pleasure, he wasted no time in moving, his pace quickening at an alarming rate. Your pussy was still sensitive from his wonderful licking, his dick currently sending painfully powerful shocks that you just weren’t ready for, and yet heat began to pool within your core for a second time. Your arms were wrapped around his sweaty form, nails biting into his skin and forcing rugged grunts out of his throat.

The wet slaps of your bodies rang throughout the room, your limbs quivering as he pumped into you faster, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, full and prepared to pour every drop of its contents into your womb. Hawks had buried his head into the crook of your neck, letting you feel every breathless moan right against your ear.

All you could do was hold on and take the increasingly rough pounding. His rhythm was sloppy from the start, but the thrusts were becoming even more irregular as a sign that he was already reaching his peak. Not surprising, given the state that he’s been in all day. One well-aimed thrust hits your sweet spot, making you moan loudly against him.

The sound eggs him on, driving his hips at a bruising pace and fuck it feels so good it hurts. Your eyes shut tightly as another orgasm breaks free, your feminine walls clamping around Hawks, squeezing his own climax out of him. You gasped at the powerful throbs of his cock as it shot out stream after stream of cum inside you. The purely animalistic growl that rumbled through him had you shaking in the best way while you watched his wings twitch and flap, hitting you with a light gust.

After an impressive amount of spurts, Hawks collapsed on top of you. He was heavy, but having his weight on you like this was pretty nice. You rubbed soothing circles around his back, listening to the rather inhuman cooing sounds he made in response.

You just had sex with Hawks, your favorite hero and the very man you were paid to look after. Oh man, how badly have you screwed up your relationship? Not that you two had much of a bond in the first place, but now things will most certainly get even more awkward.

A twitch inside you interrupted your thoughts. What the hell? Hawks’s breathing was accelerating again as he suddenly lifted his weight off of you, and that’s when you realized even though he came, he was still hard.

With newfound energy, he pushed your thighs towards your chest and rammed into you before you could even register what was happening. His new angle had you seeing stars with each thrust, hitting you even deeper than before. The sensation was dizzying, your overstimulated body beginning to throb all over. Hawks had the most obscene expression on his face, glazed eyes watching your tits bounce while his mouth hung open, drool trailing down his chin. You didn’t know such a look existed outside of adult videos, and having it aimed at you was enhancing your stinging pleasure.

Looking down granted you the view of his drenched dick pushing into you, each slam of his hips rocking you into the carpet, which honestly burned like ouch. Thankfully Hawks was reaching his tipping point once again, his hips moving at a bruising pace before one final smack. You were spoiled with another wonderful image of his head thrown back as a choked moan escaped him, another round of cum shooting into you.

He finally slid out of you as he sat back to catch his breath, wings limply dropping to his sides. Finally. You didn’t know how much more your womanhood could take. The strain of moving your legs made you wince. Did he have to pin you so roughly?

Hawks watched silently as you pushed yourself up. You felt behind your back and…dammit, you really did bruise back there. Maybe you should go find a mirror; hopefully it didn’t look too bad. You noticed that Mr. Horny Wings continued to just stare, pupils still enlarged and his dick was still hard what the fuck. He suddenly shifted onto all fours and crawled behind you. The light brush of fingers over your blemished skin made you shiver. They weren’t big enough to be that painful, but you still hissed when he applied a little too much pressure, making him pull away.

“Sorry.” His voice was still raspy as he apologized.

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Could’ve been wor—AH!”

Hawks shoved you forward, manhandling you until you were properly on your hands and knees. Fuck, your entire lower body was starting to ache, and here he was, ready to go another round. The head of his still-swollen dick was already pressing at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pushed past your puffy lips and re-entered your heat. You bit your bottom lip and took the limitless strength in his hips, his balls sometimes smacking right into your clit and bringing you closer to your next climax.

His pace slowed down briefly in order to lower himself and suck at your bruises. “Nnngh, fuck, Hawks!” The combined pain and pleasure had your insides burning. He moaned and panted into your back, kissing up to your neck and sucking there as well. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, pressing your body against his in an intimate embrace as he plunged into you more deeply.

It was impossible to not moan after each stroke. His face rested on your shoulder, and you reached behind to bury a hand in his hair. Shit, this was all getting so intimate. He was holding you and was so close, you could feel the ripple of his muscles as he caressed every inch of your inner walls. Your third burst of pleasure had you quivering against him as he continued to chase his own orgasm, stars appearing in your vision with each thrust. Hawks sank his teeth into your neck before bottoming out and releasing more cum inside you.

Both of you were lost in your sensual spasms before you collapsed. Hawks didn’t lay on you completely this time, his sweat-soaked form crouched over you, close enough to still be inside of you…

And rock hard.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

You stayed as you were, your face down and your ass up, as you felt him humping away at you again. You could barely whimper as your tender pussy took another pounding. Christ, why wasn’t he getting tired? If the quirk was getting any closer to wearing off, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

It wasn’t long before he came again, grunting with each hard buck as he filled you with his apparently endless supply of cum. Was he done? Please be done. You turned your head just enough to check the state of his erection.

Nope.

Hawks had enough mercy to carry you to his much more comfortable bed before continuing. He took you again.

And again

And again.

You were positively ruined, no more strength left in your body as he repeatedly claimed you with fervor. Whenever it appeared you were getting uncomfortable in a certain position, he would simply switch things up before carrying on. Despite how utterly exhausted and raw you felt, your orgasms kept coming, every surge of pleasure clouding your mind more and more.

You had lost track of time. Was this his fifteenth go? seventeenth? Keeping count was becoming a drag. It didn’t help that Hawks was in too much of a trance to even speak, giving you nothing but moans and growls. At least he didn’t sound on the verge of tears anymore, so maybe he was making progress.

Another orgasm was approaching; could your tired body even handle it? You were laying on the edge of the bed as Hawks stood and fucked you. Even through all of the overwhelming passion, you never got tired of staring at his wings, the dazzling red never failing to mesmerize you. They fluttered rapidly as the tension in your core spilled over, your mouth opening in a silent scream and a blackness closing in on you with every blink.

Your body was finished.

———

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing you noticed when you woke up and made the mistake of stretching. Your arms and legs ached, a sharp pain shot through your back whenever you shifted, and between your legs…well, the throb down there didn’t at all feel pleasurable anymore.

Still, you fought the pain to sit up and examine yourself. Your nether regions were surprisingly clean, almost as if someone had already taken care of it. With all of the cum Hawks pumped into you, it should frankly be an awful mess down there.

Speaking of, where was the guy?

“Hey.”

Oh, there he was leaning in the door frame. He had obviously tidied up, no longer a flushed and sweaty wreck, and was now sporting a pair of loose pants and a tee. You had never seen him looking so casual. It was probably a privilege very few had, and knowing that ignited something in your chest.

He glanced around before looking back at you. “You alright?”

Realizing you were just gawking at him and haven’t said anything yet, you coughed to ensure your voice was still clear and functioning. “I’m fine.”

He snickered. It was a sound you were used to whenever he knew he had the upper-hand in some way, but something about it felt softer this time. “I just fucked you into high heaven for a whole day.” He could’ve acknowledged it in a less shameless manner, dammit. “I just wanna know if you’re alright. You look pretty stiff.”

A jolt shot through your lower back in perfect timing with his statement, making you flinch. “Yeah, I’m—I’m pretty sore. Very sore,” you admitted.

“Ah,” He stood up straight. “I’ll go get some, uh, pain relief. Be right back.” And with that, he was out of your sight.

You waited patiently for his return, actually observing his bedroom for the first time. It was surprisingly bare, the room of someone who didn’t spend much time at home. There was a window that you didn’t notice and holy shit he was right. It was nighttime; you spent the entire day in Hawks’s bedroom. The fangirl in you was squealing in delight. You told her to shut the hell up.

The man returned with a glass of water in one hand, a pill in the other, and a set of clothes draped across his arm. “Here,” he handed the water and medicine over before sitting beside you on the bed. You gulped down the capsule, sputtering a bit as the cold water flowed down your dry throat. “I’ve got some clothes that might fit you well enough. Sorry about your suit. I’ll give you some money for a new one.”

He’s never sounded so wooden before and you couldn’t stand it. You let out your best good-hearted laugh as you took the offered clothes. “Stop that, Hawks. You sound as bland as your bosses right now,” you joked.

He laughed along with you. “Heh, sorry babe. Just worried that I came on a little too strong at the beginning there.”

You simply hummed in response. His clothes were so warm and smelled like him. Despite being surrounded by his strong scent for hours, you still welcomed it.

“So…looks like you’re feeling better.” You took in his appearance again now that he was closer. There was still a tinge of red in his face, but he seemed overall back to his usual relaxed self.

“Oh yeah, much better. The feeling’s still there, honestly,” he saw your eyes widen and instantly blurted out, “Just barely! I can ignore it and think clearly just fine now.” A boyish smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’ve got a hero. You really saved me back there.”

A ridiculous snort left you after hearing such praise. “Is that all it takes to be the great Hawks’s hero? I’m flattered.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” He looked you square in the face, and you couldn’t look away from his sincere expression. “It’s never been that bad before. Not gonna lie, I’m embarrassed you saw me like that. That was worse than all of my teenage ruts combined. Damn villain’s quirk really messed me up, felt like I was going fucking rabid. I don’t know what state I’d be in if it weren’t for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to respond to his gratitude. “You’re welcome,” was all you could say. “You don’t need to feel bad about it. It’s…” You looked down at your feet. “It’s not like I didn’t like it. It was very draining, honestly lost track of time at a certain point, but it, uh, it was an experience.”

Hawks nodded in response. “Sure was. Never thought I’d rail a girl so hard and for so long that she’d pass out. I’m impressed with myself.”

“Hawks.”

He hung his head in mock shame. “My apologies, ma’am! I completely forgot that such vulgar language isn’t tolerated around you.” And there’s the infuriating grin that you were beginning to miss.

Both of you were laughing, slowly melting away the tension and stress that filled the room since morning. This…this was nice.

“So, you probably still don’t feel all that great, sooo…” Hawks rubbed at the back of his neck. “You wanna stay for dinner? Already ordered a chicken pizza with some wings.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows. “Taking me to dinner after the sex?”

“Hey now, you know me. ‘The hero who’s too fast for his own good.’ Sometimes I miss a step or two.” He winked before getting up to leave. “You just lay there and rest, and go pee already. Don’t need an infection on top of everything else you’re going through. I already cleaned up the horrifying scene between your legs.”

You shuddered at the crude comment before falling backwards onto the poor mattress that had endured so much today.

Tomorrow, it will be back to professionalism. Back to pretending that you’re Hawks’s superior. Back to sucking up to the Commission. You’re going to cherish every minute of tonight, enjoying the company of Keigo Takami, not Hawks.

A shout echoed from downstairs. “The bathroom’s still empty, babe! Get your ass in there and pee!”

#bnha #hawks #smut #hawks x reader #takami keigo #i applaud you if you read the whole thing #this fic had a mind of its own

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danielxricciardo · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I don’t know if you’re up for Carlos’ promt.😅 I’m really a fangirl😂 I always wanted to right fanfic but I was never good with words, and I always check up on your blog for new ones. I know there’s only one fanfic for Carlos atm, so if I Can I request like Carlos is jealous because Max is the character’s ex? Like they’re already engaged but Max is still trying to fight for her and Carlos is really jealous and mad? A bit of angst would be great🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Thank youuuu!

You drew circles on Carlos's bare back in an attempt to wake him slightly. You looked at your ring finger on which now stood a beautiful diamond ring, the most beautiful you had ever seen, and memories of last night filled your mind and formed butterflies in your stomach.

When your best friend spontaneously took you to a shopping session followed by a manicure and pedicure appointment, you thought it was her way of spending time with you after she had been extremely busy with work for the past few months. It never occurred to you that Carlos might be up to something even when you saw that he and Lando's location was off. Why would you think Carlos was planning something? It was Tuesday, there were a few months until your birthday, Carlos' birthday had just passed, it wasn't your birthday, damn, it wasn't even your dog's birthday. Although, in retrospect, you had to realize that something was wrong. Your best friend in the mall on a Tuesday afternoon? She the one who goes to work even when she has the flu or when she broke her leg and had to keep it in plaster for two months.

But you didn't even realize his plan when your best friend bought you a gorgeous dress and made you wear it before you left for home. Honestly, you wouldn't look decent for an engagement just in ripped jeans and a T-shirt.

When she stopped in front of the house and stopped the engine you asked her what was going on but she just said she wanted to take the pair of jeans she had lent you a few months ago because she had a date and she wanted to wear them. You didn't pay much attention and opened the car door.

From the house you could see a very diffused and dim light. Candles? You thought then and you were tempted to think it was a power outage but the neighbors had light. Did I pay the current bill this month?

When you opened the door of the house and saw the rose petals on the floor you immediately thought of a romantic dinner with Spanish food, in no case did you expect to see Carlos on his knees in the middle of your living room. At that moment, everything made sense.

“You are the only one who understands me even more than myself. You are the only one with whom I can share everything, even my personal secrets. I want you to be with me always. I believe that if we’re lucky enough to have found each other in the first place, we’re worth betting on for life. Will, you hold my hand and be mine forever?” Carlos had said in a voice trembling with emotion and the ring in his hands.

You would never have answered otherwise than yes. You didn't even notice Lando in a corner of the living room filming everything or your best friend who was no longer behind you but somewhere to your right taking pictures.

Carlos, with trembling hands, put the ring on your finger and kissed you, his hands making room on your cheeks, wiping away your tears. You were happy. You have found your forever home.

You all opened a champagne and listened to how Carlos planned, with the help of your best friend, for three months, the whole engagement. He told you how close you were to turning all his plans upside down.

"I bought the ring when I was in Abu Dhabi for the Grand Prix," he says, and you remember that Grand Prix was three weeks ago. "When I bought it, I stayed with Lando, I think, for two hours in my hotel room, thinking about where to hide the ring so that you wouldn't find it when I returned home and it would be handy for me to take it out quickly and hide it at home. I finally decided to hide it in a pair of socks and put it in the small compartment of my bag. On my way home, however, I completely forgot that I put the ring in my bag. I was firmly convinced that it is in the backpack and when I got home you immediately took the bag to wash my clothes, as you always do. When I opened the backpack and saw that the ring was not there, I panicked extremely hard and ran to you to get the bag." he finishes telling the story and you start laughing.

You remembered that day perfectly.

"Is that why you were so white in the face? I really thought you were sick."

"Good morning, my beautiful fiancée." Carlos says in his harsh morning voice and looks at you with glassy eyes.

You smile at him and bend down to kiss him.

"Good morning, my wonderful fiancé."

He gets up in bed and hugs you.

"You have no idea how happy I am that I can hug you and say that you are mine now."

"And I was yours before, only now I have a ring on my finger."

"Mhm," Carlos says, muffled by your hair. "Now you have a ring on your finger that can keep Max away from you."

The smile on your face faded slowly. Max? What did Max have to do with your engagement? Sure, he's your ex-boyfriend, but you broke up three years ago.

It was a pretty hard breakup, more for him than for you. You broke up with him because you felt your relationship was no longer working. He didn't pay enough attention to you, you often quarreled and you felt like the love you had for him was fading with each passing day.

Max didn't comment on anything when you broke up with him, saying that it was better for both of you to go your separate ways.

That was until he saw you hand in hand with Carlos less than two months after the breakup. What he was feeling was a new feeling: jealousy. He couldn't understand the fact that you broke up with him and now you're in love with Carlos. When had this happened? Did Carlos like you when you were still together? Did you like him when you were in bed with him? He had many questions, but he would have died rather than asking you, showing you that he still cares about you.

So, he decided to ignore you, to ignore you both, hoping that your relationship won't last. But he saw you every day laughing at his jokes, he saw how he kissed the lips he had kissed until recently, how he held your hand that once caressed his hair.

It's true, lately Max and you have gotten closer. You have realized that there is no point in resentment between you considering that you see each other every day and, in the end, you are two responsible adults, you can behave nicely with each other.

Or so you thought. Carlos saw behind Max's actions. He saw how his touch on your shoulder lasted longer than normal, how in a room full of people Max is looking for you, he noticed that he always wants to know your opinion when he asks a question. Carlos realized pretty quickly that Max wants to win you back and he didn't tell you that just once.

How many times have you told Carlos that you don't care what Max's intentions are, that you love Carlos, he didn't seem to understand.

"What do you mean by that, Carlos?" you say annoyed. "Did you ask me to marry you to prove something to Max? To show him he has no chance of being with me?"

Carlos stood up and looked at you with wide eyes. You were angry, very angry and he knew he had said something wrong.

"No, of course not, love. I asked you to marry me because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Yeah, that's what you said last night in your speech. But now you're bringing Max up and I don't understand why. Did I do anything to make you doubt me?"

"No, no, of course not. You didn't do anything, love.

"You get out of bed and go to the bathroom.

"Then what is it? I keep hearing about Max. Max said that, Max did that, like Max is the third person in this relationship."

"I don't trust him!" he says in exasperation. "He's still trying to get under your skin and you allow him. I can't believe you don't see that he wants you back!"

"Carlos, for God's sake, do you hear yourself? He wants me back! Very well, let him want me for all I care! It's been three years since I broke up with him, don't you think I'd be back with him by now if that’s what I want? Understand that I can't control if he likes me or not, but I can control my feelings. And guess what, my heart chose you. So stop with this stupid jealousy!"

Carlos bites his lip and looks at you.

"You're right. I'm very sorry." he says and takes you in his arms. "Please forgive me, I'm very insecure because I love you so much and I don't want to ever lose you.

"You smile then kiss him.

"I am yours, forever."

"Forever."

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

How could you do this babe?

In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!

Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people

Word Count: ~2100

“…leave a message at the beep.”

You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.

The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.

As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.

As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.

Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table. You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.

You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.

But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.

Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.

After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.

Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.

After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.

As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.

First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Reid’s POV

Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.

Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”

It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.

The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.

Y/N’s POV

The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.

You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.

“Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.

taglist:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

Text

Be You {Leviathan x Reader}

Leviathan x Reader (They/Them) || Obey Me!

Warning(s): None (Well, actually I make Levi bully Mammon for less than a paragraph)

Note: This was a request I received from someone on Wattpad!

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

Finally, Leviathan’s done it. It’s been a long three days, hours upon hours having been poured into this playthrough.

“Woop woop! Aren’t I the best!” he praised himself, smiling wide. He’s skipped meals, pushed assignments to a later date and avoided any outside interactions to finish this game. His sight may be blurry and his limbs numb but if those were the sacrifices he had to make to go full completionist then it was all worth it. Now, time to celebrate a well deserved win.

“I think this calls for some of Ruri-chan’s celebratory season 3 limited edition candy and-!”

A chorus of knocks on his door immediately snuffed out his joy. Levi scowled, turning to glare at his door from his chair, it’s gotta be Mammon. The third born is absolutely positive that it’s his scummy older brother - it always is - back yet again to mooch more money off him for a trip to the casino. The usual slander he and his brothers would throw at the second born was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at will.

“Hey Levi? You there? It’s me....”

A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the second born piping up and Levi, halfway through spouting the first syllable, shuts up all together. That’s his normie. A weight presses on his heart: he was just about to yell and insult his Henry…

Clearing his throat in hopes of gaining some kind of composure (all previous anger having diminished) the usual “What’s the password?” came out in a stutter. The demon was only acutely aware of his heart beat. How it skipped periodically. How it raced like he himself just ran a marathon. Levi waits a moment for the human to finish reciting the TSL excerpt. His hands begin to shake, his palms exuding profuse amounts of sweat. Gah! Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he’s aware that he’s just some gross shut-in otaku but he shouldn’t be this anxious! It’s not like this is the first time the exchange student has hung out in his room... alone... with him…

“Yo Levi?”

“Yes MC?”

“You think you could open the door now? Please?” Snapped back to reality, Levi hastily opened the door, finding himself regretting it soon after.

“I, uh, MC? What do you…?” his voice trailed off, orange gradient eyes locked on their garments. Immediately he sputtered, taking a step back. A bright scarlet coated his pale cheeks. Levi tried to hide it with his hand, though it was proven useless. The sea demon's at a toss up; should he screech? Slam the door shut? Combust all together!? At the rate he’s going, number three is looking pretty probable.

On the other end of this exchange, the human stood almost timidly out in the hall, fingers fiddling with one another while their eyes darted anywhere but at the man in front of them. The words of the fifth born rang in their ears:

“You absolutely have to wear this dear! My brother would surely fall head over heels for you, even more so than he already is!”

Oh whyyyyy did they trust him? Cause he had knowledge in fashion and love? Yeah, that was it. Still, if this turns south Asmo is going to get a lecture worse than any Lucifer could ever give… Damn, they really should’ve never let the lust demon shoo them into his private bathroom and make them change into this girly outfit.

And it hit them all at once: Levi doesn’t like it, what they’re wearing. What if he never talks to them after this? Maybe if they leave now then there will still be a chance they can forget about this.

Time went on slowly, like people who walk through mud are, and MC just about tuck tail and ran, what they had planned and gained courage for be damned.

Levi had other plans though.

Only now registering that the two were standing out in the open for all to see, in a blind and desperate attempt to save himself and the human from embarrassment, the third born latched onto their wrist, yanking them into the safety of his room. Unfortunately, demon strength is a funny thing and Levi had handled them with more force than he meant to, the human crashing into his chest - hard.

Perhaps it was instinct -- a need to protect the fragile being within his grasp -- but the demon's arm found purchase around their form, pulling them almost impossibly closer as they tipped. The pair, balance long gone, toppled over, landing with a thud.

Somehow, just like in all the romance anime he’s watched, Levi found himself hovering over them, arms propped on either side of their head. Their noses brushed, both staring frozen into each other's eyes. It wasn’t everyday that either of them were this close to one another, the exception being when the duo falls asleep playing video games. God, with this kind of proximity he was sure that the normie could hear how fast his meek heart was pounding. If this went on any longer he might actually die.

“Levi?” They whispered, their voice so quiet that he almost missed the call of his name. He however did catch their whisper and tensed up before coming back to the here and now, catching sight of the ‘what’ that led to their current position. Standing, Levi’s face burned hotter than ever before.

‘It was all because of them,’ he thought, turning away turning away with tense shoulders as he still tries to mask the red that licked all the way up to his ears. ‘It’s always their fault when I start to feel like I do now!’

“S-stupid n-normie! Why are you even wearing that?” he asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder. Levi did have to admit… they looked kinda cute in those clothes… and it looked like something Ruri-chan would wear too…

Gah! No no no focus Levi!

The ‘normie’ didn’t answer right away, instead raising to their feet and opting to grab a bag from beside the door. That wasn’t there before.

“Asmo…” they sighed, turning back to face the demon, nervousness swirling within them. Now or never, “Asmo said you’d like it if I wore something like this” So this is Asmo’s doing? Damn him… “Anyway, here, take it.”

“Wha-?” A shimmering gift bag the same colour of the water Henry his goldfish swam in was thrust into his hands, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat.

A present? For him? Oh why must a no good otaku like him have to go through such an intimate endeavor???? He just can’t take it!

Then again, this was like that one scene from season 2 ep. 22 of this anime he binged: I Forget Important Dates all the time which causes me to get into really awkward situations. This time I forgot about my Birthday and my Crush handed me a bag before confessing their love for me!

So-! Spurred on by fictional characters and MC’s urging “go on, open it”, Levi tore the tape, presented with his spontaneous gift: a popular multiplayer game from the human world; one near impossible to get in Devildom.

“WHAOOO!” MC couldn’t help but think how much he’s acting like a kid on Christmas, the notion cute in their opinion. The human stood still for a couple minutes, allowing their friend to rant and gush over the game (and how cool they were for even acquiring it).

“But…” the purple haired demon calmed down, “why did you suddenly give me this?” What? Did he not know what today was?

“It’s… it is your birthday isn’t it!?” Don’t tell them Asmo lied to them about Levi’s birthday!

Levi pulled out his phone, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, “No, it is my birthday,” he assured. With all the gaming he was doing he must've failed to noticed, which is strange considering the last time his special day drew near he practically counted down the days.

“MC.” He got their attention, looking them right in the eye, his words and actions portraying a sureness and sincerity, “Thank you and…” As quick as lightning strikes the ground, the human had themselves pulled flush against Levi once more, his head resting on their shoulder and nose buried in the crook of their neck. His hair, so soft and fluffy, left a ticklish sensation on their skin.

“And about what you said before. With Asmo. I do like what you’re wearing but…” he tightens his hold, “I like you just the way you are. I know you don’t usually dress like this and I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable, like how you make me. If that means dressing tomboy-ish then so be it. I want you to be you: the human only you can be: my Henry.”

“I’m glad you feel that way…” They smiled, arms wrapping around his torso. They hope their gratitude is able to shine through in the hug, “Now, ya wanna play your new game?”

“Yes!” He smiled, pulling back and raising his hand. They return the grin, suppressing a chuckle seeing as the demon reminded them of the YES demoji. “Oh, but um! Would you like to change first? It’s not that I don’t like seeing you dressed like that or anything but like I said I want you to be comfortable but also I don’t think my heart can take it anymore… wait that’s not what I meant!” That made them chuckle though.

“Do I have to?” They teased, enjoying the reaction they got out of the third born. Levi gulped, ducking his head while whispering a small no. “Then maybe I’ll stay like this a little longer. It is your birthday after all.” Tugging the envy demon towards their usual gaming spot they let Levi set up the game before the two plopped down in their spots.

“Oh and Levi?” He hummed, tilting his head, the light of the screen illuminating the side of his face. They hugged him once more, “Happy Birthday”

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

[Masterlist]

Thank you for reading!

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vargaslovinghours · 3 years ago

Text

Third time’s the charm (1 | 2)

Upside-down Edgar lol. I actually did draw him upside down, like that art exercise, I was surprised by how good he turned out! Floof

Couple’a yellow Jakes!

So for the end of Wish Fulfillment, I actually pictured their clothes in stages :0 At least once they were back to being represented physically rather than an emotional energy haha. Starting off as raw and exposed and reflecting Edgar’s physical state, and then as they calmed down gaining clothes but still not quite back up to full - I always think Scriabin looks very small without his coat and considering how vulnerable he was there, it just seemed to fit. By the time he pushed Edgar away, I saw him with his coat again. It wasn’t described that way but I thought it was interesting that my brain supplied it anyway lol

Hug time. Scriabin’s hesitant, too bad it’s so hard to resist affection

One of a few Scriabin temps of him holding his head, I’m glad I finally got to use this pose haha

Another doodle off the heels of Omori. Black lightbulbs symbolize a repressed thought, hmm

A bit of ominous posing, neither of them look particularly happy about it tho

I forget which one I was rereading but it made me cry, so I’m gonna guess it was You Can’t Live Like This ♥ Ohp, wait, upon reviewing my notes, it was Parent-Teacher Night. There’s just so many to choose from!

When Coco took over my brain for about a week lol, skeletons are a good look. Those scars probably wouldn’t be down to his bones, maybe they’re detailing? I also liked the idea of Edgar having rather modest accents, and of them having similar designs ♪

I really liked the little split @happyfunballxd drew in Scriabin’s coat, little tails :D Super cute!

Couple Scriabins from behind, I wanted something sleepy-looking that showed his shoulder but the first one was a bit stiff, much better with a proper action line. He’s really so pretty ♪

I had a brief idea for a popular AU trope but I backtracked on it pretty quickly; I did still end up making a couple doodles that I thought were fun. Case in point, Scriabin feeding Edgar ice cream lol

Antagonistic yarn accessorizing. It’s just tied in place but it’s hard to remove! He probably knots it into his hair so it won’t just slip out just to be mean lol

Got into a bit of a steampunk mood and the return of the low ponytail. Goggles seem a bit redundant but they’re so fun! Plus I’ve drawn him in suspenders and a waistcoat, but not just a vest, he looks nice :D

Always holding each other closely. I think I just wanted them touching each other’s faces, they turned out quite cute, quite soft

I was watching some religion-and-mental-health type videos and the line “Self-loathing is a sin” came up and well. We’ve all seen those church marquees right lol

Digital redraw of the first of this set since I like it so much ♪ The shading was what I wanted to focus on the most, I’m quite happy with his lapels and the creases at the upper edges of his sleeves but I do miss the detail the doodle version had in his hair ahh

Chocolate! Tiny nibbles

Very small doodle of Scriabin leaning over the couch to watch Edgar play something. I guess it’d be on a Gameboy, looks more like an SP here lol

I thought of these for an April Fools Day comic where things are cute and fluffy and domestic, but I didn’t have the energy for it unfortunately :’) It wasn’t exactly how I wrote it down, so maybe I can rework it yet

More!! Lol

Scriabin bein’ nasty, repression’s a must-be-mean topic haha, there is a lot of it

Just a little possessive, only a little bit. I really like the arm posing especially

I ended up really liking this one, impatient Scriabin with his arms thrown everywhere plush haha

I’ll be here all week

I tend to draw Edgar’s sleeves folded against his arms rather than loose and free, so I gave it a go and thought it looked a little silly haha. I’m all for silly tho!

Rude

He has never in his life had any amount of street smarts

More YGOTAS lol

I’ve drawn Scriabin carrying Edgar around bridal style a few times and the sizing was always off but I keep returning to it ‘cause symbolism and closeness. Exhausting work, carrying all that baggage!

More carrying around, where’s Edgar’s head even if Scriabin’s still here? Wake up!

Felt like revisiting one of my earlier facial hair styles, looks so strange now that I’ve moved away from it

Original sketches for Carry you here, I’m happy with how both versions turned out but I am a little sad the cheek touch turned into more of a forehead touch in the digital version, I feel like this one’s just a bit sweeter. I wanted the glow to be a bit more obvious too but couldn’t quite figure out the shading

And trying to figure out what hand expression I wanted, thumb touch was very important

Oh-so-subtly mixing sweetness and dropping hints, not that Edgar will ever pick up on them

He’s real happy they’re there in the first place lol

No body to hug with :(

I was doing some proportion practice and him sitting on the couch was funny at the time

He has fallen, goodness gracious. So dramatic haha

Spook poofs. How could you Edgar!

Put a shirt on

Scriabin taking apart Edgar’s “guiltless” self-image. “It was never yours to begin with,” reminding him of everything he’s done

Pretty sure I was inspired by a cat video for this one lol. “I didn’t ask for this!” “Okay I’ll stop” “I didn’t ask for that either!”

Something-something Edgar’s yarn is somewhat loose but Scriabin’s is tied to Edgar’s hand. I actually have a good several Vargas hand expressions but these are probably the most obvious

S’fucken wimdy

Cryingggg 🌸 Three apiece, gotta keep it fair haha. Although Edgar’s not crying for the first one, he’s not quite hit that overwhelm just yet, Scriabin’s not so lucky

That’s February through the end of May! Still so many ideas lol

#💟#Doodles #Sketchdump #Art #Edgar #Scriabin #Jake #I'm somewhere in there too #What?? No abuse this time???#Well no hitting anyway pfft there's still mean words #These just keep getting longer and longer #To be fair this one's got a slightly longer time frame but I tried to keep it ~about~ the usual four months #Hard to believe there's enough consistency that I can do these every four months lol #There's already a few for June since it's comin' out late lol #I really should build these as I go so I remember them a bit better #Even in this set there's a couple I want to finish! It's yet to be seen but I am not lacking in ambition I guess lol #To be fair there are a couple original sketches to completed ideas here! That's good #Also the number of doodles I left out that's just [disgruntled headshot] I have so frickin' many of those and I can't explain why #You think my spacey chibis are plentiful? Well you're right but also vaguely put-out bust-ups are nearly matched lol #I like to keep things a little more dynamic tho even practice/test doodles can be very varied lol

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emilia3546 · 3 years ago

Text

Reflections - Nessian NSFW

Nesta has no idea why Cassian bothered to buy a new, floor-length, mirror, but once she figures it out, she can't get her mind off it.

*****

Nesta hadn't given the new mirror that Cassian had bought a few days ago much thought, until now. Full-length, plenty of empty space in front of it, she hadn't thought anything of it, not even at Cassian's undisguised glee when he'd come home with it, assuming it was just some stupid joke, but days later the mirror was still there. She'd only thought about it yesterday morning when he whispered to her,

"Want to know what it's for? What it's really for?" Nesta had nodded, slightly confused, but realized at once at the gleeful look in his eyes,

"You want to fuck me in front of a mirror?"

"I want you to watch me fucking you in the mirror." She'd flushed bright red at that, but Cassian had already slipped outside, raising an eyebrow at her before disappearing to training. Still, Nesta hadn't been able to shake that idea, he hadn't mentioned it since, and even with her book, it was like the mirror was watching her, but that was ridiculous. She glared at it, slamming her book closed, and Cassian chuckled from beside her, clearly happy to escape his book, well, the book she had practically forced him to read.

"Stop that."

"What?"

"Stop it, stop looking at me like that," she hissed, opening her book again, but gave up after reading the same sentence at least three times,

"Something distracting you?" Cassian grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes,

"I hate you."

"We both know that's not true," he laughed, and Nesta glowered at him,

"It is," she insisted, but yelped when he moved faster than she could register, flipping her underneath him,

"Then how come I'm the only one who gets to have you like this?"

"I don't know what you mean," she managed, but gasped and dropped her head backwards when he pushed her nightgown up, his hand so close to her sex, but staying just too far from it. She squeezed her eyes shut, this was what he wanted, and she wasn't going to lose, so she lifted her head again, "Who says that you're the only one?" She almost missed him move again, only noticing once his hand had curled around her throat. Her words died on her tongue, and she automatically grabbed at his wrist, not bothering to try to dislodge him, just ready to warn him if whatever he did was to much for her.

"I'm sorry?" The opportunity was too good to miss, even if his tone was dangerously low, even if the sensible thing would be to apologize, to save herself a punishment, she smirked as she spoke,

"That's okay, you're forgiven." She had underestimated him, underestimated how quickly he was going to react tonight, no sooner had the words left her mouth than Cassian's grip on her throat tightened. She could, of course, still breathe, but the lack of blood flow left her head roaring, the world fading as she panted, gently squeezing Cassian's wrist. He loosened his grip at her request, but still stared down at her with that unyielding dominance in his eyes, she'd lost, she'd completely and utterly lost.

"Try again," he whispered, and Nesta whimpered, her lie slipping away as she wriggled, Cassian raised an eyebrow, and she stilled, "What were you saying? That I'm not the only one who gets you like this?" He tightened his grip again, and she gasped out his name,

"No, please, I'm sorry, it wasn't true, it wasn't true." He released his grip on her throat, but kept his hand in place, holding her still,

"So you lied to me." She didn't have a clever response to that, "Well?"

"Yes," she whispered, "I'm sorry," she added after a moment, squirming under his gaze as he silently glared down at her,

"Oh we're definitely playing with the mirror now. Do not move." Nesta obeyed, laying still as he disappeared from her view, but shifted around at the sounds of rustling. "You can sit up now." She did, her gaze snapping towards the mirror, and she felt another rush of wetness at the sight before her. Cassian was utterly, gloriously naked, already hard and ready, a length of rope in his hands. It was an effort to stay still, to avoid rushing straight towards him, but this was part of the game, now she'd lost, she had to play the game, had to wait for his order. She grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling it over her head at Cassian's nod, "Come here," Nesta didn't need any more encouragement to practically leap up, but she caught herself in time, managing to maintain a steady pace as she walked towards him.

He tipped her chin upwards, one hand in her hair, the other tugging her waist against him, and Nesta moaned when Cassian tugged her head backwards, gripping onto his shoulders as he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. She couldn't breathe fast enough, not with the way he was kissing her, hard, fast, so much that she almost couldn't match his movements. He was faster than her, catching her off guard when he nipped at her bottom lip, making her jaw drop further. He allowed her all of one breath before surging back towards her, claiming her lips so thoroughly that she had no doubt of what she wanted,

"No one else," he snarled, "No one else get to have you,"

"No one," she panted, still trembling in his arms, "I'm all yours," she whispered, and Cassian spun her around, and tugged her backwards against his chest, so that she was staring into the mirror. She tried to turn away, but Cassian gripped her chin, turning her head back to the mirror, forcing her to stare into her own eyes. She automatically moved back, but found herself pinned still, Cassian's arms around her waist, she could only see him in the mirror, see the way he was grinning, the way his lips were now slightly swollen, a deep flush creeping down his chest, not that she was in any better shape. With her hair unbound, he'd been able to mess it up enough to make her look truly desperate, if her red cheeks and panting breaths hadn't already given her away.

"Good girl," he murmured, and Nesta saw herself melt under the praise, saw herself sink into his arms, and didn't complain when he slowly leaned back, supporting her with one arm as he lowered them to the floor. He snatched up the discarded length of rope, and steel gathered in Nesta's veins again as she made to crawl away from him, from where she was sitting between his legs. While he was distracted she could snatch back control, but he wasn't really distracted, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her backwards with a yelp until she was pressed against him again. He locked his ankles against hers, dragging her legs open, and gently guided her head back so that it rested on his shoulder. She drew in a deep breath, but twisted her wrist out of his grip when he caught it, but forgot about the other one, and she huffed when he looped the rope around it, losing her concentration on evading him, and struggled against him for a moment when he caught both, before giving in and glaring at him through the mirror as he bound them together in front of her. In front, not behind, because he wanted to be closer to her, to touch her.

Nesta's eyes flickered shut at the first light touch across her stomach,

"Eyes open," Cassian reminded her, "Watch." She did as she was told, her gaze fixed on his hands where they rubbed circles across her skin, rising higher to knead her breasts in time with her ragged breaths,

"Please," she whispered, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, and apparently failing, judging by Cassian's chuckled against the skin of her neck,

"Awwww, can't take it?" He tugged on her earlobe, and sped up at the same time, "That's too bad," he hummed, "How badly do you want it?"

"Bad. Please, Cass, please, please," he hummed wordlessly, as if considering her plea,

"You're so pretty when you beg, sweetheart, I want to hear some more." Despite his words, he did dip his hand to brush against her clit, leaving her wriggling, and rocking her hips against him, until he pulled away. She sobbed in desperation, biting her lip to keep from squealing,

"Please," she muttered again, "I need you," no difference, "General," she crooned, and almost laughed at the way Cassian's hands froze momentarily before continuing, "Please, General, I need your cock inside me, I need you to fuck me, please," she tried to sound teasing, but it still came out as a weak whimper,

"Fuck," Cassian muttered next to her ear, his head dropped into her neck as he pressed gentle kisses against her skin, his hair as messy as hers now, a dark angel, her warrior. "You see what you do to me?" He whispered, "Only I can have you, but only you can have me," she was still processing his words when he slid two fingers through her sex, coating them with her wetness, "Oh, you are desperate aren't you, Nesta?" He teased before sliding a finger into her, then a second, pumping them in and out a few times, his other hand keeping her head from falling back, forcing her to keep watching as she rode his fingers, her hips bucking almost uncontrollably now. She screamed his name when he curled his fingers inside her, already hurtling over the edge, and kept screaming as he kept moving inside her, dragging a second climax from her as soon as the first had finished, then a third, then a fourth. Nesta sobbed with pleasure when she came down from her fourth climax, trying to squirm away, trying to push his hand away,

"I can't," she gasped, "Please,"

"You can, and you will. You lied to me, you owe me another four before we play," No, no, no, eight was the number for lying, but she'd hoped he'd just spank her, this was so much harder, and she sobbed again when he pushed her towards the edge. She couldn't do it, it was too much, but she screamed her pleasure again when she came a fifth time, her body no longer responding to her commands to wriggle away from him, to escape the overwhelming pleasure arcing through her at each orgasm. She could hardly see through the tears blurring her vision, but she knew that she was absolutely wrecked, could feel the way her body was loose and pliant against Cassian's, how easily he could move her around, his fingers reaching deeper inside her as he stretched her out, "One more for me, sweetheart, one more, okay," Nesta nodded, and wriggled as her muscles tightened, coiling in her stomach, until Cassian bit down on her neck, sending it all rushing outwards, washing over her in a great wave, leaving her screaming and crying in pleasure.

Cassian gently stroked her hair, rubbing soothing circles against her ribs as Nesta struggled to fill her lungs again and again, spooling herself back together piece by piece, panting as Cassian untied her wrists

"Good girl," he murmured, and Nesta mumbled something incoherent, earning a chuckle from her mate, "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous," he hummed, and kissed the top of her head. He meant it, Nesta knew he meant it, but the praise still made her squirm, still made her automatically think he was lying. "You did so well, sweetheart," she melted under the adoration in his voice, twisting in his arms to look into his eyes, "You okay?" She nodded, and buried her face in his neck, sighing happily. "Color?" Cassian murmured, and she twisted her head sideways to mutter,

"Orange, I just need a minute."

"Are you done?"

"No. I just need a break," Cassian held her against him as she breathed, and breathed, and breathed, her mind-stilling exercises helping her to relax, to bring herself back to her body, to the present, to Cassian. Once she was ready, she leaned back into him, dragging his face back to hers, her heart cracking at the gentleness of his movements, the worry in his eyes when he pulled back, and lightly kissed her nose. Nesta grinned, and kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip to turn the kiss into something more, something more demanding. That familiar smirk returned the moment Cassian released her lips, and Nesta shifted her hips against him, chuckling at his muttered curses. She shot him a glance over her shoulder, "Green," she trilled, and leaned forwards onto her forearms, lifting her ass in silent demand. Cassian rose behind her, running a hand down her spine, sparking shivers wherever their skin met, and pushed her legs further apart. Nesta dropped her head onto the floor, suddenly grateful for Cassian's foresight to put a rug there, softening the hard floorboards.

"You're supposed to be watching," Cassian murmured, and Nesta yelped when he pulled her head up, her hair wrapped around his wrist, his hand fisted in her hair. She gasped when he tugged again, lifting her off her hands for a moment before letting her back down, "Now watch, sweetheart," he whispered before slamming into her in one thrust. The sound that left Nesta's throat was one of pure animalistic need, and she couldn't look away, not as he pumped his hips against hers, not as his eyes dropped half-closed with pleasure, not as she unraveled, screaming his name with each thrust. He released her hair to grab her hips with both hands, pulling her backwards at the same time as he thrust forwards into her, Nesta screamed wordlessly, stars filling her vision with each thrust. She lost track of exactly what she was saying, what she was begging for, but Cassian gave her everything she could have asked for, and then some. She came twice more, screaming his name, but still begging for more, until he finally groaned her name, and came himself after one last, harsh thrust. Nesta had already slumped forwards, her ass still in the air as his release slowly dripped out of her. She could never tire of this, of him, not if they had a million years, and she must have said as much, because Cassian eased her into his lap, still panting himself from the force of his climax,

"Now I'm done," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as they sat in silence for a few moments, comfortable, safe in each others' arms. Cassian was still running his hands up an down her sides, as if he needed that contact, that reassurance that Nesta was okay, as he did every time. She kissed his jaw, "I love you," she mumbled, her heart aching at the undisguised worry in his eyes, "I'm fine," she wriggled back slightly, "See? Fine," still, Cassian would need to check for himself, but Nesta could do this for him, "I will always love you, you know that, right?"

"I know," he ran his lips across her jaw again, "But it does help to hear you say it,"

"I can say if every five minutes if that's what you need to believe me." He chuckled at that, and ran his gaze over her again,

"You sure you're okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine," she took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, proving to him that she was recovering fine, still remembering his panic when she'd come one too many times, and hadn't been able to catch her breath. Cassian had made sure to watch her breathing ever since, and she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she'd tell him if she was struggling, even if Madja had said that it was just because she had been tired. Cassian was still holding her to his chest, waiting until her breathing had completely returned to normal before carrying her across to the bed,

"Give me one minute, okay?" Nesta nodded, and Cassian moved quickly to the bathroom, coming back in less than the minute he'd asked for, finding Nesta alert, and glancing around the room. She relaxed again the moment he reappeared in her vision, "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I should have had this ready in here,"

"It's okay," Nesta muttered, "You're here, that's all I need," Cassian kissed her forehead again before gently cleaning her up with the washcloth he'd gone to fetch, but protested when she tried to do the same, claiming that he was fine, but Nesta just glared at him until he caved. She was still wobbly on her feet when she stood, and she didn't miss the note of satisfaction in Cassian's gaze when he noted that fact, but she ignored it, careful when she reached his back. "Do you want me to do your wings?" Cassian nodded, and Nesta swiped up a towel, quickly drying the areas she'd washed straight away, and Cassian dropped his head forwards, his eyes falling closed, a low groan sounding in his chest, not one of pleasure, but contentment. Nesta placed the bowl and cloths to the side, smiling when Cassian slipped under the covers, opening his arms to her. She slipped underneath one, half-laying on his chest, with Cassian holding her tightly against him, one hand around her waist, the other cradling her head. She sighed happily, and snuggled into him, giggling when he wrapped his wings around her, leaving her head free, her breathing space. She mumbled again that she loved him, but she was already slipping into sleep, hardly registering his chuckle as he stroked her hair softly until he too fell asleep.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #nesta #nesta archeron #nessian #nesta x cassian #nessian smut #cassian

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