#the 20 best action movies
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latestnews69 · 2 months ago
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Babygirl to Gladiator II and Conclave: The 20 best films of 2024
Read more click here
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natp20 · 7 months ago
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Me trying to figure out the movie references from Never Stop Blowing Up of the movie posters you recently posted
i've got your back!
2 Quick 2 Perilous - 2 Fast 2 Furious
Squeeze - Scarface/Heat (or any movie about organized crime)
Shadow Falcon Protocol - Hackers
Atomic Brunette - Atomic Blonde/Salt
Santo Patron - Casino Royale/007 movies
Tough Kill - Die Hard
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nicomoon69 · 4 months ago
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watching a video abt queer comic characters 😁😁 they start talking abt how tim and kon should’ve ended up together 😞😞
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madametamma · 1 year ago
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Does it have to be live action?
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vertigoartgore · 1 year ago
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Publicity still for the movie Spider-Man 2.
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thatdykepunkslut · 1 year ago
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I feel lied to everyone says Van Helsing is a good movie but uh...
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nat-20s · 2 years ago
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Lort forgive me but I'm intrigued by what the James Gunn DCEU might look like
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eightstarr · 4 months ago
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at the count of three — ellie williams.
summary: how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? ellie has an answer! just be cool and wait for the right moment— and the next. and maybe another one, just to be sure. if you get impatient, you can always take a deep breath and count to three! (years, that is)
warnings: slow burn (childhood friends to lovers <3), little bit suggestive but no smut!
notes: born from a piece of dialogue i wrote like, a year ago and completely forgot about but somehow a week later it's 4k words? idk you're welcome or i'm sorry!!! also yes they do spend almost every scene sitting together on a couch but that's what lesbianism is all about...
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・。.・゜✧・. ────
ONE!
A movie plays on the TV, a slightly tarnished DVD of an 80’s action flick starring some oily guy and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen— Ellie doesn't remember much other than an obnoxiously epic soundtrack and lingering shots that made the plot twist too obvious about 20 minutes in. 
She's freshly eighteen; you’re ahead only by a couple months. It's a warm Friday night, Joel and your dad in the kitchen putting scraps together for a mildly healthy dinner, Ellie sitting on the very opposite side of the couch from where you are. It’s hot, she'd said, looking away from your comically insulted face that grew with every scooch she made from your side, a lame excuse to save her from the newly found (and fucking torturous) fluttering that sparks in her stomach whenever she sits too close to you.
From the kitchen comes the sound of a can hitting the floor, followed by Joel’s 'shit!' and then quickly, 'sorry, girls'. You chuckle, turning to Ellie and catching her staring at you. A wrinkle forms between your eyebrows at the same time a pink warmth floods her cheeks. “Dude, you’re not even paying attention.”
“I am,” a scoff, her eyes now strictly committed to the screen. “The noise distracted me,” she adds, knowing it didn't even make her flinch from the careful study of your side profile.
“Scaredy cat— ow!” a pillow crashes against your cheek, sudden enough to shock you, too soft to do any real damage. “What the fuck?”
Ellie raises her eyebrows and looks at you from the corner of her eyes, a smirk half hidden by her hand. “Don’t be rude, you're missing the best scene.”
You throw the pillow back and scoff when she catches it, your lips slightly pursed, the signature sign to tell you’re annoyed. It's almost identical to the replica of that gesture that sits at the end of her last journal entry, an overly dedicated sketch born from a wandering thought. She could make it more accurate, she thinks now, soften the line of your jaw, take the scar on your cheek a little more to the left.
The sound of water splashing from the TV catches her attention and Ellie snaps her head forward (lest she get caught staring again), just as the blonde haired love interest is walking out of a fancy looking swimming pool.
“She’s hot,” you say, fingers pulling absentmindedly at loose threads on the rip of your jeans. When Ellie doesn't say anything, you turn to look at her, “You don't think so?”
Her voice comes out a higher pitch than she’d like. “What—” she clears her throat before continuing to mumble, “I don't know, I guess.”
You laugh. “You guess?” 
“Yeah, I— I don't know, dude, I wasn't thinking about that.”
You watch the nervousness on her face, the gulp that passes her throat, the red under her freckles. Fondness tugs at your chest and your voice softens just slightly, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God. Ellie, it’s okay,” green eyes find your face and she sees you hesitate for a second before you shrug. “Who cares? It's just me.”
You make it sound easy. It's the most distinct thing Ellie remembers about this moment, how suddenly safety felt like the most obvious thing. TV light on your face, your arm over the back of the couch, the same eyes she's been looking at since she was fourteen. Of course it's okay. Everything else with you is easy, why wouldn't this be the same?
Ellie shifts on the couch, the distance between you turning quickly ridiculous— offensive, even. She’s embarrassed to have let her flusteredness get in the way, but the urge to be closer doesn't feel right either. Everything she does feels like too much, everything she says too intense. “How long have you known?” she asks.
You tilt your head, less of a question and more of a guidance, “Known that you…”
Ellie parts her lips, unsure of whether or not she’s gonna say it or how, trying to will the words to come out. And they do, she remembers it well, because it was the first and maybe the only time she was this direct about it. “That I like girls.”
The smile on your face is teeth-rotting sweet, but she only gets to bask in it for a second before you widen your eyes and lower your voice to a scandalized whisper. “You what?”
Ellie rolls her eyes, cheeks burning, “Oh, fuck you.”
Your laugh fills up the room and the fluttering in her stomach feels absurd at this point, like she would actually be able to feel those annoying little butterflies flying around if she were to press her hand against her abdomen. “Sorry, sorry,” you say, and for a terrifying second Ellie thinks maybe they're loud too, and you’re able to hear them. But then she looks at you and forgets about it, easy easy easy. “It’s really okay. You know that, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says. For once, there's not a glimpse of doubt about it to be found.
You watch another ten minutes of the movie in silence before your dad's head peeks out from the kitchen to call you both to the table for dinner.
Ellie has a habit of eating like it's her last day on earth. When you were both new residents of Jackson, hungry and scared and not at all used to the idea of a full plate of food twice a day, she couldn't help it. And you were the same, hence why your dad thought it would be good for you and Ellie to spend time together, which quickly turned to being around each other basically every minute of every day. But as the weeks passed, you seemed to be learning to adapt faster. A younger Ellie found this frustrating— especially after that time Joel complimented your table manners.
You’re just… nicer, she remembers saying, a stressed frown on her still childlike face, fiddling with a box of marbles she’d found under her new bed. She remembers how you pulled one out, your fingers brushing against her own for the first time ever, and held the clear crystal with green stripes next to her eyes, a satisfied smile at a practically perfect match. You’re nice too, Els, you’d said, shrugging your shoulders, the marble shoved inside your pocket, I think I just lie better.
Until that moment, Ellie had never thought about it that way; the fact that you could be pretending to feel more confident and comfortable than you really are to make yourself safer, to get people to like you. But when she asked, you swore you had never lied to Ellie. She used to drive herself mad thinking about that, a strange, confusing worry gnawing at her chest— she likes that you don't feel the need to lie, but what does it say about how you see her? Is it that you don't care if she likes you? Or worse, is it that you know that she already does?
You sit in front of her today at the same dinner table, four years later, and watch her practically inhale her bowl of pasta like no time has passed at all. You let out a snort and Ellie wonders if you can see it even now, if her constant thoughts of you are obvious even when she looks this busy.
"What?" she asks, an immediate frown on her face, though she's done you the honor of swallowing her mouthful before speaking.
"You're so gross," you say, chin resting on your palm, tilting your head like you're looking at some thought provoking art piece. Ellie thinks you'll leave it at that, but then you reach over and swipe your thumb over the red spot of sauce next to the corner of her lips, so soft she barely feels it. You watch her frown soften for a second before it becomes even deeper.
Ellie feels like her whole body is exploding with warmth, too hot under the hoodie she's wearing, too pink across her face. It's so obvious, she thinks, it's so— fuck, pull it together. Her gaze follows your finger as you bring it to your lips and lick off the sauce. “You’re disgusting,” she retorts lamely, her hand rough when she brushes it over her mouth, lest you notice another stain and she has to watch you do that again.
You are familiarly not deterred by her meanness. Or her attempt at it. "And you eat like a five year old,” you shrug. “I guess we both have our issues."
Ellie catches herself staring at your hands for the rest of the meal, certain that she's never noticed them in the same way before. How much time has she been wasting? You both have your issues, you'd said, but Ellie thinks she has you beat. Yours can't possibly be anywhere near this dangerous.
─────✧・゚: *✧・
TWO!
Someone's knocking on her door. Ellie sniffles and lets out a groan as she gets up from the couch, sore throat, her limbs heavy and tired. She knows it's you because it's always the same three knocks; the first two firm and loud, a pause, and then one tiny one that sounds almost like 'sorry'. You’re impatient but still painfully afraid to be rude— if she loved you a little less, Ellie thinks she would make fun of it a lot more. But alas, she's cursed to smile at it every time.
She opens the door and the breeze that slips in makes her fall immediately into an embarrassing coughing fit. “It’s fine,” she mutters, at the same time you’re saying jesus christ, Ellie. “Shit. I’m okay,” she clears her throat and finally gets a moment to look at you, all pretty and put together in your best shirt and a freshly showered scent, the sun setting behind you like a perfect frame. Ellie prays her lungs don't betray her again and tries to make the brush of her hand over her messy hair look casual instead of desperate.
“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the party with me for just a few minutes, but… I’m not sure you should be out of bed,” your worried frown is pretty, too. What a cruel fate. “Is Joel home? I can stay—”
“No, no, you’re good,” Ellie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest like maybe it’ll cover up enough and you won't notice she was wearing the same long sleeve the last time you saw her. “He’ll be here in like, five minutes. I’ll be fine, ’m not a baby.”
You’re both nineteen by this time, Ellie remembers because you wore the same pretty blue shirt that you're wearing now for her birthday, and it was the day she realized her crush was no longer deniable. It's easier to act like nothing’s happening when she feels like she's alone in it, like there's no universe where you could love her like she loves you so she might as well let the fantasy die— but then you put on your shirt that's reserved for special occasions just to come over and bring her the cupcake you made, and suddenly Ellie can picture herself with her hands on each side of your waist, pulling you close, saying thank you with her lips brushing against yours before she kisses you. She can see it so clearly that it startles her, changes everything. Her birthday comes with a punch to the gut and a hunger she wants to tell you and only you about.
“You’re not gonna be bored? I really don't mind staying until he gets home.”
Ellie thinks (dramatically, extremely nineteen—) that if she lets you take care of her, she might actually die. It felt like she almost did last time you visited, your face serious with concentration as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. ‘You're warm’, you said, ‘do you feel sweaty?’ Ellie stared up at you, eyes glossy and heavy from sleep. ‘Not really’, her fingers sneaked out from under the blanket to wrap themselves around your forearm, a moment of bravery or delusion, ‘your hand feels nice’. You chuckled, ‘okay, keep it’.
She’s less feverish today, but not yet recovered from the greedy voice in her head that begs her to keep you close. If you don't go to the party now, she thinks (knows) that she’ll let herself casually talk you into staying the rest of the night. “Nah, don't miss your party,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Joel’s gonna teach me how to play that old card game.”
You raise your eyebrows. “So you're gonna argue all night.”
“No— what?” Ellie scoffs. “It’ll be good, I learn fast.”
“Yeah, because you make up your own rules.”
“I have questions about the rules, that's not the same thing.”
“It is if you cheat—”
“I’m not a cheater!”
You hum, a curious tilt of your head, and Ellie rolls her eyes before the words are even out of your mouth. “No, I guess you’d have to have a girlfriend for that.”
You watch her run her tongue over her teeth, her shoulder against the door frame. “You know I could say the same to you, right?”
“Too bad I said it first,” you shrug, pretty smile stretching your lips. “I guess I'll go, then. I’ll come over when it's done so you don't miss me too much.”
Ellie tries to maintain her composure. You know, she thinks, do you know? You must know. You can't know— “Right. Also so you can steal my food and crash in my bed, I’m guessing.”
“When you’re all vulnerable and weak? What do you think of me, Ellie?” you frown sadly, a hand over your heart.
“I think I know you,” she says, the corner of her lips lifting just a little, inescapably.
You walk to the gate and turn around as you close the lock, your hands on either side of your mouth as if she’s miles and miles away. “I’ll take the couch!”
“Yeah, sure!” Ellie yells back, her voice pretty even when it's hoarse, knowing she’ll hold on for just about ten minutes before she insists you take the bed instead.
Joel stays awake with her until around 10pm, when his yawns become too many to hide and he’s already let Ellie win three games, his smile genuine and wide while she chuckles and pretends she doesn’t notice. He leaves her with a tupperware of soup for tomorrow’s lunch and a deck of cards. To teach your friends or— I don't know, keep on the coffee table, he’d said, make you look cool. Ellie’s not sure you would find a box of cards ‘cool’, but she’s not above trying.
Ever since she moved out to the garage, she’s discovered a new type of stress at the notion of having you over. At Joel’s house, all she ever did to prepare for guests was pick up the dirty clothes from her bedroom floor and put her books in a (wobbly) single pile. Now things are different. The garage is small, but it's all hers— her floor, her living room, her kitchen. She can't have you thinking that she can't take care of things on her own.
She spends the next hour moving things around until finally, two loud knocks. A second passes; Ellie looks at the cards and considers shoving them inside one of the drawers on her desk. By the time the one quiet knock comes, she shrugs and decides to leave them on the coffee table, lest Joel was right and she misses a chance to have you start thinking she's cool and mysterious. “It's open,” she says from the couch, tiredness soon catching up with her after all that time rearranging things.
The door opens and you come in, quickly closing it behind you, a relieved sigh at the loss of that crisp, cold breeze outside. “Did Joel forget those?” you ask, bent at the waist as you take your shoes off, your chin pointing at the deck, the only thing on the coffee table. Maybe she should've been more subtle with it.
“Uh, no,” Ellie scratches the back of her neck, her legs stretched across the couch. “They’re a gift.”
She's not sure you hear her over the groan you make as you stretch your arms above your head, her legs moved to the side automatically to make space for you to sit. You fall down with a sigh and both forget about the cards— you, distracted by the warm tingly feeling of a couple drinks, and Ellie by the new jacket you’re wearing.
She lets a million different scenarios spin around her head for a couple seconds before she blurts out the question. “Whose is that?”
“What?” you turn your head away from the movie playing on the TV.
“The jacket.”
“Oh,” you look down at yourself as if you’ve just remembered it’s there. “Maya was leaving too, so she walked here with me. It’s hers.”
Ellie hums, her back sliding a little further down the couch, legs spread. “Stinks like it’s hers.”
You chuckle before you can help it, her animosity ridiculous and charming— Ellie’s better with actions than she is with words. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” you shake your head, not quite slurring, but not too far from it either. "She smells like strawberries."
Fuck Maya and her strawberry shampoo. Ellie could get some if she wanted to, maybe if she traded— what the fuck is she thinking about? She rolls her shoulders back and pushes the thoughts away, gluing her eyes to the screen. “Sure,” she says, less because she agrees and more because she doesn't wanna hear what else you like about Maya. “You had fun, then?”
“It was alright. You didn't miss out on too much,” the end of your sentence stretched out by a yawn, you cover your mouth lazily and rest back fully against the couch. “Jesse was drunk. They had to stop him from getting up on a table.”
Ellie chuckles. “I don't know, maybe he had something to say. I think I would’ve let him.”
“That's what I said,” you smile and let your head fall to the side, your cheek against the cushion. She feels you staring, enables it for a while by acting oblivious, falsely over-invested in some movie she can't remember the title of. She hears you move closer before she feels it— the shuffle of your clothes, the stupid jacket rubbing against her couch, so easily forgettable by the time your temple falls on her shoulder.
Ellie's about to fall asleep when she hears the little noise you make, something like a sniffle. For a worrying second she thinks she might’ve given you her cold, but then she feels the tip of your nose brush against her shoulder and she realizes you’re trying to breathe her in. 
“You always smell nice,” you whisper, half asleep.
Ellie swallows and prays to keep her body completely still, scared she’ll make the wrong move and have you pull away, scared you’ll lean closer and be able to hear the fast beating on her chest. She sounds breathy, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Like fresh rain.”
Slow like the roll of credits playing on the TV, Ellie feels how every muscle in her body settles down, relaxed, content— fucking cocky. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and hopes the scent will rub off on the jacket and remind Maya of a cloudy autumn night, rain over her garden.
─────✧・゚: *✧・
THREE!
"Do you think we would've liked each other?" you ask, your legs resting on her lap while she fidgets mindlessly with the ruffled cuff of your socks. Every patrol lately ends the exact same way, a quiet walk home and a joint on Ellie’s couch. "Back when the world was normal?”
Ellie turns to look at you, blinking lazily, a reddish hue over her green. You’re not sure if she's more tired or high, but either way you're not doing much better— everything you’ve said during the past hour is the kind of thought you have when you're alone at night and your brain wanders, moments away from falling asleep. It's a meaningless question, but Ellie lets out a soft hum and thinks about it like it's worth considering. You're not sure if anyone you’ve met in your whole twenty years of life is as willing to indulge you as she is.
"Yeah," she says decidedly, in the same tone with which one would say duh. "We—" a yawn cuts her off, slender hand rubbing one of her eyes. "We would be friends, like, in college."
"I wouldn't be in college.”
Ellie frowns, takes one last inhale and discards the joint to the ashtray on her coffee table. "Why not?"
"'Cause I'm not smart like you," you shrug.
The fold between her eyebrows deepens. "You're smart," she argues, with enough conviction that you almost believe her, insisting, "You are."
"In other ways, sure—” Ellie opens her mouth to interrupt but you get ahead of her, “I’m not trying to talk badly about myself, I just don't think college would be for me.”
You’ve never been the most disciplined. It’s hard to imagine yourself staying up late to study, taking diligent notes in class. It feels ridiculous.
“I’d be working somewhere, I think. Making coffee for people or something.”
Ellie pauses before she nods, adjusting her daydream to what you’re saying, strangely committed. "Then we would meet there,” she makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world, a natural equation. “I'd go get coffee from you."
You chuckle. "You don't even like coffee that much."
Ellie shrugs, soft pink lips curved in a smirk that tells you she's sleepy and serves to warn you of the horror that's about to come out of her mouth.
You groan. “Don't—”
"Maybe I like the pretty girl that's making it."
“Awful,” you push her shoulder away, barely any force behind it, her giggles swimming comfortably around your head. “Never speak again.”
"Not my best work?" she asks, her fingers wrapping lazily around your shin. Too much, her brain warns, but then she remembers the pad of your finger over the back of her hand last night, the cursive lines with no purpose other than to be touching her— and it feels right, or like it's not enough. Too much soon turns to coward.
"Possibly your worst.”
She might be going crazy, but lately Ellie feels like you’re looking at her differently. In your eyes there's something gentle, awaiting, a tracing of your eyes over her face that says please. She chews on her lip, her eagerness painful. “We would like each other,” she doesn't think there's a world where you wouldn't, and if there was… "I'd make you like me."
You raise your eyebrows, teasing, "Oh, so like now?"
Her lips part with genuine surprise, more amused than offended. “...I made you, huh?” 
You regret the joke as soon as it comes out of your mouth, immediately brought back to your fourteen year old self, lonely and admittedly captivated by the auburn haired girl from next door. Flashes of you rushing to catch up with her, untied laces on your too tight sneakers, Ellie, do you wanna be friends? The sound of pages shuffling and her voice reading in whispers in the dead of night because you asked, can you talk to me until I fall asleep? Infatuated from the beginning, obsessed. Even now, on her couch, after spending a whole day together— do you like me? Would you like me, always?
A pillow crashes against the side of her face, her laugh almost louder than the embarrassed pounding of your heart. You pull your legs from her lap and lie back, fold your arms over your face. “You're so annoying.”
A lie so obvious it makes Ellie smile. She shifts to crawl closer, one knee on either side of you. “C’mon, I was joking,” she leans forward and you feel her knuckles tap your arm like she’s knocking on a door. The power to make you shy is still foreign to her, makes her feel drunk, thrilled. She doesn't remember having it before, but of course it was there. In little ways, in daily, simple things. Your eyes always looking for her first in any room, lighting up even after an especially bad pun, tracing her arms when the day becomes too hot to keep her jacket on. You like her, of course. How much time has she been wasting? The breath she lets out feels like it's been waiting to be let go, years spent stuck in her lungs. Ellie wraps her fingers around one of your wrists, her voice sweet, achingly soft. “Want me to tell you why I know I’d like you?”
You lower your arms just slightly, eyes peering up at her.
“Yeah?” she tilts her head.
You nod, arms coming down, unusually quiet.
Ellie grins, victorious. “Okay, but fair warning— it's worse than the coffee thing.”
You chuckle. “Is it?”
“Very.”
“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think about it, distracted by the vision of her practically sitting on top of you. Freckled face framed by the hair that's escaped her usual bun, softly lit by the warmth of the lamp on her desk. “Alright,” you say finally.
It takes Ellie a second to respond, momentarily dazed by the thought of being pretty enough for you to ogle like this. She clears her throat. “You ready?”
You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and away from her eyes. “Sure.”
Ellie waits for the nerves to come, but even as she parts her lips to speak, they never do. What a kind fate. “I know I’d like you because nothing’s ever made more sense to me— I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I like you enough for a million lifetimes.”
You look at each other, bask in a moment of understanding. Your eyes on her lips, a hand on her waist that pulls her closer. “That was worse,” you agree.
Ellie moves to rest on her forearms, cages you in, her nose brushing against yours. “I told you.”
She waits, feels herself count once again, a final time, one, two—
A hand against the back of her neck brings her in and the quiet noise of her surprise vibrates against your lips, makes her smile into the kiss for just a second before the hunger takes over. Her hips readjusting over yours, knees pressing against your sides, Ellie kisses like it's a need rather than a whim. She takes and takes and swallows every sigh you make like it's a gift, four, five, six seconds of a messy trail of kisses down your neck to say thank you before she resurfaces again.
“Love you,” she breathes out, because suddenly all that talk about ‘like’ feels stupid— immature, incomparable to what she actually feels for you. “Need you.”
You moan against her lips and it's her favorite sound in the whole world, immediately, as quick as realizing she would fall in love with you the day she met you. “Love you, Ellie.”
A kiss to your clavicle, your hands pulling at her shirt and her thigh between yours. She makes you say it three more times.
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alexanderwales · 1 month ago
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We were talking on my server the other day about a sort of "performance prose" piece, a way to have a work of fiction that takes place within the digital world. I'm a fan of epistolary novels, and this is an epistolary novel that would have a time component to it.
Basically, the idea is that you set up a discord server, make all the channels read-only, then have a "performance" where bots are talking to each other according to a script. (You could also do this via roleplay, but I think that would be worse.) All these bots are "reading their lines" in these channels, forming a coherent story that's told entirely through text messages, but also, importantly, through the timing of when messages are sent, through when the messages are edited, through mutes and bans and slow modes.
It would all be realtime, that's part of the gimmick. I think it would be best if it was actually on discord, mostly because I think that's a better gimmick than having a javascript thing on some separate dedicated website.
There are lots of options for how you'd do it. Time is one major consideration: an hourlong "performance" as the bots do their scripted actions is interesting, nice and tight, more like a movie than anything else, something you sit down for as a dedicated viewing "experience". But at the other extreme, it could be as long as a week (more than that is probably impractical). Since it's in real time, that means that people actually need to check in and keep up with it, and you can actually miss things, catching them only in the backlog.
In practical terms, I think you'd only want ~10 characters and another ~20 secondary characters, the "main chatters" and the people who come in for a few lines every now and then. This is just a format in which the writing would take place, you'd want to figure out what the plot is, what it's "about", if it's about more than just internet/online culture.
So it's a stage play, but it takes place within a chat client of some kind, and has its own rhythms, and because we're using bots and not humans, and because we're using a format that has verisimilitude, we can do cool things with it.
And you might be asking "well wait, you're writing a script, just write a chat log instead, that's a relatively normal thing to write and read" but I dunno, there's something that's magical about doing it "live", witnessing a quiet conversation in the middle of the night, seeing the whole server get embroiled in a flashpoint issue, watching these characters get revealed in ways large and small.
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That's What Friends Are For- E.M.
I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx
You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.
Part 2
Masterlist
TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)
Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie
Word Count- 4,802
(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)
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It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”  
While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?  
Wrong. 
Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.  
Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own... 
“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down. 
“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious... 
“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”  
You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank. 
Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly. 
“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.  
The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 
Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck. 
“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words. 
“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”  
Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.  
“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything. 
You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,” 
Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes. 
You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”  
Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.  
“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.  
You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows. 
“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains. 
“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. 
“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.  
“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body. 
“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you. 
“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice. 
“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.  
“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut. 
“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips. 
It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.  
Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away. 
“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.  
“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous. 
“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts. 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress. 
When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes. 
With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.  
Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops. 
“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back. 
“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest. 
“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again. 
“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours. 
“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again. 
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.  
His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”  
The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling. 
“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you. 
“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin. 
When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second. 
“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other. 
Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close. 
“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.  
Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.  
You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.  
“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time. 
Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm. 
“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much... 
“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush. 
Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?” 
“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body. 
“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?” 
This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”  
Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest. 
Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to. 
You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want. 
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luvingarisu · 11 days ago
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headcanons | ryohei arisu
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author’s note: i started aib and ohmygod this man, smut hc’s are definitely ooc but i just need him so bad so i’m feeding my own delusions.
warnings: nothing much, just my first time writing smut hc’s😭
synopsis: pre-borderlands hc’s! also this is LONGGG, i have too many thoughts.
smut hc’s are definitely ooc. realistically he’s gonna be a nervous wreck but let me pretend.
not proof read
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ pre-borderlands
♡ he’s a loser, you know it, he knows it, his friends know it, and his father definitely does. but it makes him all the more endearing.
♡ he’s so, so nervous at first, but once you both grow more comfortable in your relationship he’s giving into your every wish, genuinely at your beck and call. you’re his whole world and he just wants to make you happy <3
♡ he’s a little gamer! mainly pc (unfortunately, i’m a ps5 girly) but he knows his stuff. definitely uses emulators to play games like resident evil and the last of us.
♡ he prefers online shooters and stuff, but he doesn’t mind story based games if they’re more action based, like re4.
♡ i think he’d prefer a girlfriend who doesn’t mind video games (or loves them like him) so you can play together and talk about games :(
♡ would definitely emulate it takes two on both his pc and yours so you could play together, it’s such a cutesy little couple game! you guys would have a blast playing together! :(
♡ if you had a console best believe he’s using it for at least an hour every time he’s over, won’t admit it’s better than his PC but you both know it’s what he’s thinking.
♡ loves it when you sit in his lap while he plays :( and you love it too.
♡ arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his controller on your thighs, chin on your shoulder as he plays, but he always gets distracted, giving you the attention you want so easily, kissing your neck gently, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips as he whispers in your ear.
♡ i can’t imagine he uses pet names often, if he does they’re classics like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’.
♡ “Baby, you wanna hop on call for a bit?” he texts you at least once a day every night you aren’t together, he ends up screen sharing a movie or show you can watch together.
♡ is also a boyfriend that makes you watch him play i’m so sorry but he just is. you see him rage far too often over COD.
♡ loves it when you call him ‘honey’, just does it for him.
♡ he’s a nerd so that definitely extends to different parts of his life other than video games, when you go shopping you always end up browsing new posters, figurines, and mangas.
♡ AOT is my favourite anime/manga so i’m gonna hc that it’s his too! ;)
♡ his favourite character is eren. without a doubt, just thinks he’s so cool, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees him turn into the attack titan for the first time, “Babe! Fucking look, that’s so cool!-“
♡ thinks you’re so pretty. while girls loved karube, the same couldn’t be said for him. in the show he’s in his 20s so i won’t say he’s a virgin, but definitely not super experienced.
♡ just can’t believe he has a girlfriend as pretty as you, no matter what you look like, goth, emo, a girl who loves to dress up and wear makeup, or if you prefer dressing down he thinks you’re so stunning.
♡ “you’re the prettiest girl ever.” (literal heart eyes)
♡ “your makeup looks really nice, baby :)”
♡ *stares at you in the mirror while you brush your hair.*
♡ “baby can you play a game with me, i’m bored :(.”
♡ dates are super lowkey! but you both love it that way.
♡ walks in parks, cinema dates, shopping dates, lazy days on the couch or in his bed watching movies are the most common ones.
♡ he does splurge on an actual restaurant for anniversary’s and valentines and your birthday with whatever little money he has.
♡ dresses up on those days too! He’ll wear a plain black shirt or white button up (whatever is more appropriate) instead of a graphic tee and some nice jeans or black slacks (he steals them from his brother.)
♡ for gifts he also keeps in lowkey, and so do you! you both can’t afford much so you just appreciate what the other gets you.
♡ he gets you little figures and posters he thinks you’ll like, or plushies! if you like makeup he’ll splurge a tad and get you a nice lipgloss you said you’ve been wanting.
♡ is definitely a boyfriend who gets gifts catered to your interests and things you like rather than buying you stuff he thinks all girls like.
♡ just over all very thoughtful, sweet, and very very handsome even though he refuses to believe it.
♡ pre-borderlands smut hc’s
♡ isn’t a virgin, but not experienced. one or two bodies before you i’d guess.
♡ let’s talk abt his dick 🤭
♡ he’s above average, but not insanely big. 6 inches, decently girthy but not so much so that it would hurt. it’s so pretty. a perfect size, two toned, a few veins and perfectly straight.
♡ i see far too many people hc him as a sub, but i honestly don’t see that, he’s neither and doesn’t have much of an interest in power dynamics
♡ you’re his equal, his baby, why would he wanna control you in anyway? :(
♡ such a titty guy. he is’t picky about size, but loves the way yours sit so pretty.
♡ soft pecks slowly grow into heated and lustfully heavy touching above your clothes, his big hands and lithe fingers shyly manoeuvring under your top. Inching their way up your soft flesh, they always find your breasts, caressing them gingerly as he softly loves on you.
♡ positions are nothing crazy, he loves classic missionary sometimes, just staring into your eyes, watching your face contort as you whine and moan. god you just look so good.
♡ but he also loves prone bone, getting you on your stomach, sliding himself in, slowly, almost torturously so. he fills you to the hilt, groaning into your ear softly as your bodies press together, sharing their warmth. he props himself up on his elbows, thrusting into you gently and slowly. he wants to savour every moment. without a doubt, he always brushes your hair away from your face, putting a large hand under you chin to crane your neck around to him, kissing you slowly as he fucks you into the mattress.
♡ bro LOVESSS head. like so bad. he loves giving, of course, he’s never been much of a ladykiller, so knowing he’s able to please you drives him mad.
♡ but he’s always down for you to suck his dick. he prefers laying with his back propped against the headboard, letting you work away. with a hand gripping your hair, or caressing the back of your head, and his other hand behind his own head, his mouth agape and eyes fluttering closed.
♡ on certain days, he thrusts up into your mouth, but poor boy always ends up feeling a bit bad :(
♡ ohgod and his fingers.
♡ long, lithe, slender. his hands are dexterous, soft and not overly calloused. anytime he uses them on you, he has you laying beside him whilst he leans over you, pumping them in and out, his thumb giving all it’s attention to your clit.
♡ the dirty talk is light, just filled with praise and light teasing
♡ he’s just too soft with you, he could never degrade you in the slightest.
♡ “attagirl, baby.”
♡”doing so good f’me.”
♡”you look so pretty, baby, my pretty girl.”
♡”makin’ me feel so good.”
♡ and just strings of curses as he praises and loves on you
♡ he’s just too good to you :(
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damiansgoodgirll · 5 months ago
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Damian and the reader get into a argument at work due to him being with Rhea 24/7 and not careing about her. Feelings and ends smut! ?
changed the “at work” part but i hope you enjoy this anyway ❤️
damian priest x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
‼️angst, a lot of feelings, damian neglecting reader, mention of smut‼️
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all night long
you loved damian, he was your boyfriend.
and you loved rhea too, she was your best friend.
and after the event of summerslam you saw them bonding more than before, you actually didn’t mind, they’ve always been great friends and after suffering from the action of their old team members, you could understand why they were so close.
what you didn’t understand was why damian was taking you for granted and spending more time with rhea.
he trained more with her, everytime you had plans he always brought rhea along, romantic movie nights became horror movies nights and you couldn’t stand it anymore.
it was like damian was treating you both as friends and you didn’t know why, especially since you were his girlfriend and not a normal friend.
but one night in particular made you out of your mind. it made you go crazy.
you were at home, already dressed in your nice and comfy outfit, waiting for damian to pick you up and drive you both to your mom’s birthday party. you were so excited to see all of your family together again and you couldn’t wait for your little cousin to meet damian, he was a huge fan and when you first told him that you were dating he couldn’t believe it until he saw the pictures. so now it was all he talked about.
but damian wasn’t home yet and the party was about to start.
you called him and texted him but with no response.
“fuck it…” you whispered. you weren’t going to miss your mom’s birthday and you sure weren’t going to miss it because of damian. so you took your car and drove all the way downtown to see your mom and family.
everyone noticed the little tension you had. your mom asked you about damian and you simply told her that he was working and he was coming later but you weren’t so sure at this point that he would show up.
you texted him probably 20 times that night but he never replied back.
“oh it’s damian…let me answer” you saw his name popping up on your phone, almost two hours later since the party started.
“where the fuck are you damian? it’s almost ten and you were supposed to be at home by eight…” you shouted-whispered, trying not to catch attention. you slowly dragged yourself into the backyard, out of everyone sight.
“i’m so sorry amor but i don’t think i can make it tonight…” he said, making your heart miss a few beats.
“the fuck are you talking about?” you wanted to scream so loud but you knew you couldn’t “get your ass up here damian, everyone is waiting for you!”
“i’m still at the gym mi amor…” you didn’t even let him finish talking.
“i don’t care! it’s my mom’s birthday and you promised damian…you promised you were going to be there, so get your ass up here now!” you were seeing black.
“i…i don’t think i can make it in time hermosa, i’m still training with rhea and…”
“of course you’re with her” you whispered, your words definitely catching damian’s attention.
“what did you say y/n?” his voice sounded more serious.
“nothing, just stay at the gym and train with her since she’s more important than me anyway, hope you have a good night” and before he could reply you hung up on him.
your mama was really sad when you told her that he wasn’t able to come because of work, but she understood, she had a great bond with damian and she liked him really much so, of course, she was a bit disappointed but she knew damian work was a lot.
in the meantime damian was stunned by your words. you really thought he cared about rhea like that?
“is everything okay dam?” rhea asked him, noticing the look he had on his face.
“yeah…i think y/n’s mad…”
“what did you do to make her mad?” she teased him, earning a chuckle from his lips.
“nothing important…let’s finish this so i can be home in thirty minutes” so he continued his training with rhea while you were trying the best to keep a smile on your face while everyone was celebrating your mom but inside you were breaking.
once the party ended you took your sweet time coming back home. not wanting to see damian, you took the longest route and passed by some of your favorite restaurants and bars, watching the couples inside and wondering if they had the same problems you had or if they were just happily living their relationships.
damian was waiting for you at home. knowing he was mad he wanted to make it up to you so, before coming home, he stopped by and brought you some chocolate and flowers.
when he heard the car outside he knew that he was going to get yelled at but he was ready. what he wasn’t ready to face was you entering the house and ignoring him, pretending he wasn’t there when he tried to talk to you.
“…can you please look at me? i know you’re mad and i’m completely sorry for tonight…but don’t ignore me like this” he followed you when you took out your shoes and placed them in the closet next to the front door. he followed you when you turn off the lights from the living room and went to the bedroom. he followed you because you wouldn’t let him speak and he hated it.
“that’s how i felt when you ignored me damian…” you simply said, trying not to show any emotion.
“i didn’t mean to ignore you…you know…we were training because this weekend we have an important match in berlin, a very important big match and we want to be perfect for that show” he said, his face not showing any emotion.
“oh so my mom’s birthday wasn’t important? i told you weeks ago to take a few hours, not even a full day, just a few hours off of work so you could have gone with me to her birthday! you should have seen everyone’s faces when i told them that my boyfriend completely forgot about her birthday and preferred to train… pretty sure no one likes you anymore” you didn’t mean to be so hard on him, but you were mad and you had every right to be. it’s not what you said to your family, you just told them that he was busy working and couldn’t come but you wanted him to feel at least guilty.
“and i told you i’m so sorry for missing her birthday, i’ll make it up to her but please you have to understand that -…”
“no damian! i don’t have to understand anything! the only thing i want to understand is why my boyfriend is neglecting me! and it’s not only about tonight, it’s about all the other things that used to be ours and now they’re not!” you couldn’t keep your emotions under control and so a few tears fell from your eyes “it’s about the dates you cancelled because rhea needed you, it’s about the movie nights you invited her over when those were our movie nights…it’s about rhea joining us everywhere we go, it’s about you being more at work than home, and when you’re home you don’t even acknowledge my presence…this is what’s about and you probably don’t even realise how bad it hurts…” you turned, not wanting to see him.
he had no idea about the pain he was causing you. he taught that supporting rhea during this difficult time was the best decision but not when you were feeling this way. he didn’t think that bringing rhea everywhere you went was a problem because he knew you were good friends but that was the problem. he didn’t think. he didn’t think about your feelings. he didn’t know what you were feeling because he didn’t have time for you.
and now, you crying because of him was making it worse.
“mariposa…i’m so fucking sorry…i-i had no idea you were feeling like this…” he couldn’t find enough words to express how sorry he was.
“yeah…i shouldn’t be the one to tell you this by the way…but it’s clear you like spending time with her more than me…” you were feeling jealous of your own best friend. the one who just got married. the one who wanted you to be her bridesmaid. but you couldn’t help the feeling of knowing that they were together 24/7 because of their work.
“you think i want her?” no answer from you “you think i want her? answer me y/n…you think i want rhea?” his eyes black, staring at you, staring at your soul.
you knew you were stupid to doubt of damian’s love for you, you knew he loved you and you knew he didn’t think of rhea like that but he had no idea how it felt being neglected by the man you loved “you don’t know how i felt damian…” and it was true, all those dates he missed just because he had to train with her, the movie nights were it was just the two of you, the football games he used to take you alone, you missed the little things that made you happy.
“i told you…i’m so sorry for what happened” damian apologised for the millionth time that night.
“i don’t care if you’re sorry damian! i shouldn’t be the one to remind you that you have a girlfriend waiting for you at home …” he wasn’t even seeing your point of view, he was just mad that you thought that there was something going on between him and rhea.
“we can keep screaming at each other or we can talk about this like two adults” he said, waiting for a response from you.
“i definitely don’t wanna talk tonight. it’s late, i’m tired and i have things to do tomorrow…” you said, stripping down from your clothes and putting your pj on.
“so we are going to bed mad at each other?” he asked, watching every movement that you made.
“i don’t know, i’m definitely not sleeping with you damian tonight. you pick. you take the guest bedroom or i will, i don’t care, i’m just tired…”
damian couldn’t believe his ears “we are not sleeping apart, we talk about this now…”
you sighed “there’s not much to talk about damian. you’ve been neglecting me for weeks and if i didn’t speak you wouldn’t even have noticed it, so, it’s pretty clear to me that i’m not important as you are for me…ask her to keep you company tonight” a tear fell down from your eye but you were quick to wipe it away.
“stop that nonsense y/n! por favor! i messed up, i know that! but stop bringing rhea into this! it’s about me and you…i know i fucked up! i thought i was being a nice friend, i thought that it would have helped her heal from what happened at summerslam…i thought that you didn’t mind having rhea with us all the time because you are great friends but i didn’t think about how you might have felt and that was my fault…that was my mistake and i realise i fucked up…but don’t ever say that i care about rhea more than i care about you because that’s absolutely bullshit!” he didn’t mean to scream but you were the most important person in his life and he couldn’t handle the idea of you thinking so less about your relationship. he loved you with all of his heart.
were you really so blind to doubt about his love for you?
you couldn’t keep your tears inside any longer so you let them fall.
damian opened his big arms for you and gently hugged you, letting you cry all of your tears “i’m so sorry that i made you feel this way y/n…i had no idea how you felt but i promise you, from now on, no more rhea, just us…”
“i don’t mind having her around, she’s my best friend…but you are my boyfriend and, and there are moments where i feel like you just treat me as a friend…there are moments where i want you just for myself…” you cried into his shirt.
he couldn’t find words. he knew he hurt you and the way you were crying told him everything he needed to know “i’m so sorry mi amor…”
“it’s okay i guess…” you mumbled against his chest.
“no it’s not okay…i fucked up and i know that, i’m so sorry i made you feel that way…but at the same time i can’t believe you would even think that i would want rhea the same way i want you…it makes me feel like i failed somehow, as a boyfriend” he confessed, making you look into his eyes.
“you didn’t fail…i think we should have talked about this instead of screaming at each other…i’m sorry too…” you apologised, realising that maybe you went too far too.
“look at me y/n…” he slowly lifted your chin up, making you look at him “you’re the only person i want, the only person i need…and i would spend all night long to prove it too you” his thumb gently wiped your tears away “all night long…” he repeated, whispering against your lips before he planted a small kiss upon your lips, testing the waters.
when he felt you reacting to the kiss, he went deeper. slowly opening his mouth a little more, biting your lips, making you moan into his mouth “you’re the only one i want” he whispered again, making you believe that.
his hands moved to your hips, lightly pushing you on the bed, his lips never leaving yours “i promised you, i would spend all night to make it up to you hermosa…” and he did maintain his promise.
showing you how sorry and sad he was that you ever doubt his love for you. showing you how horny and hard you get him, because you are the only woman to have that affect on him. showing you how deeply in love he is with you because he can’t live without you.
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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 months ago
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Playing with Fire: The House
Fandom: Marvel (Dad’s Best Friend AU)
Pairing: DBF!Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: Your dad's coworker and best friend, Bucky, decides to tag along with you on your errands after your boyfriend bailed on you last minute.
A/N: This was long overdo! But here's the last part of Playing with Fire! Reader is in her mid/lates 20s. Bucky is in his early 40s!
Warning: smut - oral (f receiving), p in v
The Book Store | The Photobooth | The Restaurant
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After your errands and lunch with Bucky, he drives you guys back to your house. When you enter, your dad is sitting on the couch watching tv.
"Hey! Get everything done?"
You nod, "Yup! Buck was surprisingly very helpful," you playfully nudge the older man and he snorts.
"Well, she was being a brat the entire day."
You slap his arm, "Was not!"
Bucky chuckles, "Okay, okay. You weren't." he looks to your dad, "It was a good day. Things go okay at the office?"
Your dad lets out a deep breath, and holds up the beer in his hand, "This is my second beer of the day, so that should tell you how it went."
"Yikes," Bucky mumbles and joins your dad on the couch.
As you go through the stuff you purchased today, you pull out the DVD Bucky bought earlier, "Oh! Bucky found this movie at Carol's bookshop," you toss it to Bucky, who handed it to your dad.
"Woah! I haven't seen this movie in forever!"
You snort at your dad's excitement, "I guess I'll go change, make some popcorn and we can watch it?"
"Sounds good," your dad responds and looks at Buck, "You stayin'?"
He shrugs, "Yeah, I guess I'll stay around you losers for a little longer," he looks over at you and gives you a wink. You roll your eyes at him and head to your room to change into something more comfortable.
When you come back down, Bucky's in the kitchen grabbing himself a beer. You walk past him to grab a bowl and a bag of popcorn. He glances your way and then doubles back.
His eyes rake your body as you wear tight work out shorts and a thin strapped tank top. You're standing in front of the microwave, waiting for the popcorn to pop.
With a quick glance at your dad in the living room, Bucky moves to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips. You gasp in surprise and hiss, "Bucky-"
He leans in, lips hovering over your ears and he whispers, "You look so fucking good in this outfit." He immediately pulls away and you spin to look at him. He gives you a smirk and a wink, exiting the kitchen as if nothing happened.
You let out a deep breath, mentally cursing yourself and your dad's best friend for getting you riled up.
You shake off the tingling sensation you felt when Bucky held you and whispered in your ear. No. You can't do this. You can't feel this way. You have a boyfriend!
When the microwave beeps, you immediately pull it out and dump the contents into a large bowl. You grab a water bottle for yourself and head into the living room.
Bucky and your dad sit on opposite ends of the couch, leaving the middle for you. You turn off the lights and plop in between them. You pull a blanket over yourself, the bowl of popcorn nestling in your lap, "Okay, ready!"
Your dad pushes play and the movie begins. Bucky immediately stretches his arms out and rests one along the couch, practically hovering over your shoulders.
You immediately shoot him a look and he just shrugs, turning his attention to the tv. The movie is an action comedy. The dialogue and humor is dated, but you still find it enjoyable. Bucky and your dad laugh throughout the movie. You chuckle at some points, but you're mainly there for the vibes.
Halfway through the movie, your dad loudly yawns and apologizes. You pause the movie, "You can head to bed if you want. It's getting late anyways."
He glances at the time and frowns, "It's only 9:30."
"Isn't that late for you old guys?" you ask with a smirk.
Bucky snorts and your dad chuckles, "Alright, you brat," he says affectionally, "I'm surprised you're not tired from running all over town with Bucky."
You shrug, "My youthful energy keeps me up."
"Hm, well, I am exhausted from work today, so I'll head to bed early," he points at Bucky, "See you tomorrow. Don't let this one," he points at you, "Bully you like she does to me."
Bucky gives a salute, "I'll keep her in check. Good night, man."
"Night, Buck," your dad pecks a kiss to your head, "Good night. Behave. Don't stay up too late."
"Got it! Night, dad!" you give him a wave and watch as he heads to his bedroom. You continue the movie, eyes glued to the screen.
The hair raises on the back of your neck as Bucky's fingers start drawing shapes along your shoulder.
"Bucky-"
"I'm not doin' anything, sugar. Be a good girl and watch the movie."
You bite back a moan. The way his voice was low and rasp when he said that, it definitely aroused you and you mentally scold yourself for it.
Bucky leans in as he grabs some popcorn from the bowl on your lap. He takes this opportunity to scoot closer to you.
You do your best to watch the movie but you don't even know what's been happening for the past few minutes.
Bucky leans in again and smells you, murmuring against your skin, "You smell so good, sugar. So sweet," his fingers play with the thin strap of your top, "Bet you taste sweet too."
You turn to him with a glare, "Bucky, stop. I have a boyfriend. I know you don't think he treats me right or whatever, but this needs to stop. I know you're trying to prove a point but I just-fuck."
Bucky immediately drops the act. He looks at you with remorse, "I'm sorry. I-I was pushing your boundaries and that was wrong of me." he distances himself from you, "I just," he pauses and runs a hand down his face, "You're a beautiful, smart, and sweet young woman. You deserve to be properly loved and cared for. This John guy doesn't seem like he's doing that for you. I just want you to know that you deserve better." he promptly stands from the couch, "I think I should head out now. I am sorry, sugar, truly." He gives you a nod then lets himself out of your house. You slump into the couch and bring a pillow to your face, screaming into the fabric.
_______________________________
A Week Later
You're annoyed. You're annoyed with yourself, with John, but most importantly, Bucky.
Bucky was right and you kind of hate him for it. John treated you like shit and what's even worse is while you were out running errands with Bucky and mentally scolding yourself for finding your dad's best friend attractive, John was fucking some other woman behind your back! He'd been cheating on you this entire time and you defended him when Bucky opposed him.
Ugh. What a fucking mess.
You're so upset and annoyed with Bucky that you drive over to his place to tell him so.
Your chest his heaving as you waltz up to his door and knock hard.
And of fucking course, he answers the door wearing a tight tshirt and gray sweatpants. He looks at you confused, "Sugar? You okay?"
You push past him, entering his home, "No, I'm not okay! I'm so annoyed with you!"
He cocks a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the fabric of the sleeves to hug his biceps even more, "What did I do?"
"You were fucking right! John wasn't treating me well and he certainly didn't care for me as much as he said he was because he was fucking cheating on me!"
Bucky looks at you confused, "Wait, so your now ex-boyfriend cheated on you, yet you're upset with me?"
"Because you were right and I was feeling guilty for finding you attractive while I was still with John but that didn't even matter 'cause he was cheating on me a majority of our relationship!"
Bucky tries to hold back a smirk and you groan, "Stop that! Stop looking so fucking hot and riling me up! I hate it! I hate that now I see you as someone more than just my dad's best friend! I hate that I see you as this older guy who's smart and funny, annoying but handsome, dorky and also sexy and it frustrates me!"
Bucky licks his lips and steps closer to you, "Then why don't we do something about that frustration, sugar?"
Fire. You're playing with fire. This is your dad's best friend and yet you can't help but want him. You are a moth and Bucky is a flame and you're desperate for his warmth and glow.
"Fuck it," you mumble before pulling him by the back of his neck, pressing your lips to his.
Bucky doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. He grips you by the waist, pulling you closer. His hands move back to grip your ass, causing you to moan into the kiss.
He pulls away just enough to murmur, "You sure about this?"
You look into his bright blue eyes and smirk, "Show me how a real man fucks, Bucky."
You watch as his eyes dilate and he practically growls, "With pleasure." He takes your hand pulling you straight to his bedroom. You've been everywhere in his house when you and your dad come over, but you've never been inside his room.
It's just like the rest of his house, dark colors, photos and knick knacks scattered around. Some paintings that his friend Steve had done, donning the walls.
You don't get much time to take in the room because Bucky picks you up and tosses you onto his bed. You giggle as you bounce a bit.
He falls to his knees, his hands sliding up your legs, "I'll treat you like a fucking queen, sugar. Show you how you're supposed to treated." he tugs down your leggings, tossing them to the floor.
He teases you through your underwear. He smirks as he feels how wet you are already, "Already soaking for me, baby? That's what I do to ya, huh?" He pulls you closer to him by the ankles. He presses a kiss over your clothed core and you whine.
"Buck, please."
"Whatcha want, pretty baby? Hm? Use your words?"
"Fuck me with your tongue. Please? I wanna feel your mouth on me."
He chuckles, "Whatever the lady wants, she gets," he quickly pulls off your underwear. Unbeknownst to you, he pockets the garment. He brings you even closer, your thighs sandwiching his head. He spreads you open and licks a stripe up your slit, causing your breath to hitch.
He moans as he tastes all of you, his tongue delving deep inside to then circle around your clit. Bucky watches you with hooded eyes as you grip his bedsheets in pleasure. Your back arched, eyes closed, and mouth open. You look like a goddess.
While Bucky's runs circles along your clit, he slowly inserts a finger into you. He pumps the digit in a slow rhythm which causes you to grind up into his face. You crave more and Bucky happily provides. He inserts another finger and you moan curses, paired with Bucky's name.
His fingers and tongue work in tandem together. You feel that pleasure building up inside you more and more.
You're crying out to Bucky, begging for more, desperate to cum for him.
"Shit! Bucky!" his name is the last thing on your lips as you gush around his fingers. He takes it all, happily so, as your legs shake around him.
When your body stills, he slowly lowers your legs onto his bed. And he stands, lapping up his fingers while taking in your spent figure.
"I was right," he says.
You look at him in a post-orgasmic haze, "About?"
"You taste just as sweet as you are."
You roll your eyes at him as he pulls off his shirt and pushes down his sweats. He crawls onto the bed, body hovering over yours, "You still want to do this? There's no going back after this."
"Please, Bucky. Fuck me."
He grins and pecks your lips, "Now how can I say no to you when you beg for me like that?"
He pulls away to rid himself of his boxers. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a condom. He quickly rips it open and rolls the rubber onto him.
He then goes to kneel in between your legs and you quickly wrap your legs around him, causing him to fall forward.
His arm catches himself before he can collapse onto you, "Eager, sugar?"
"You're taking too long, old man," you respond with sass.
Bucky's eyes darken. He grabs his length, and teases your entrance with it, "Tsk. Tsk. How can you be so sweet and so bratty as the same time?" He then sheaths himself inside you and you gasp.
He smirks at you and chuckles, "Nothin' to say, sugar?"
"Fuck me, Bucky," you mumble.
He promptly sits up and pulls you by the hips. His cock hits you deep and then he pulls back to only thrust back into you again. His movements are hard and fast to the point the bed rocks in the rhythm he sets.
"That's it, baby, so fucking pretty taking my dick." Bucky says as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure. You're gripping onto his arms as he holds your hips while he fucks you.
"Does your dad know you're here, hm? Does he know how his little girl is getting fucked by his best friend?"
You shake your head, "No. Fuck, no."
"Of course he doesn't. Can't know that his little girl is my fucking naughty girl, hm? Fuck, you feel so fucking good, sugar."
He bends down, propping himself by his arms, his body hovering over you as he fucks you. You pull him into a heated kiss, moaning into his lips while he gives hard thrusts.
"Rub your pussy for me, baby. Wanna cum together and 'm close."
You nod, immediately bringing your hand down to your clit and rubbing fast circles around the nub. The added pleasure causes you to clench onto his cock.
"Fuck, that's it, baby. That's it. Fucking close. Shit."
His hips slam into yours, harder, faster, as he's so desperate to get that release.
You're close too as you moan his name, "Bucky! Oh fuck!"
He thrusts once...twice.. and thrice until his hips still. He lets out the sexiest moan you've ever heard as he cums in the condom.
"Goddamn," he groans as he slowly pulls out of you. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and runs a hand through his brown locks.
He gets a good look at you. Your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.
"Fuck," he murmurs, "We really just did that."
He pulls off the condom, tying a knot in it, and tossing it into a nearby trash bin. He then climbs off the bed, pulling on his boxers.
"I'll be back." he heads to the bathroom where he grabs a hand towel. He dampens it with warm water and comes back to you. You keep your eyes on him while he wipes you down. You take in his furrowed brows and a pit of insecurity opens inside you.
"Do you regret it?"
He sighs, "We shouldn't have done that."
"Okay," you murmur. After he's done, you immediately get up and start to undress.
Bucky stands and makes you pause, "Hey."
You look at him, on the verge of tears and it breaks Bucky's heart. As a tear cascades down your cheek, he immediately wipes it away, "I don't regret it, but doing that just made things complicated."
"I know."
"Your dad obviously can't know about this."
"I know."
"You also just went through a breakup."
You let out an exasperated sigh, "Bucky, are you rejecting me or not?"
"Not really. Your emotions were high. You just found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. All I'm saying is give yourself some time to heal before.."
"Before?"
"Before we can see where this," he gestures between you and himself, "goes."
Your brows shoot up in surprise, "You want to explore this?"
He shrugs, "We clearly have some chemistry, but you're also young. You're still in your twenties and have a lot going on. If you don't want anything with me, that's fine. I'll live. I just don't wanna hold you back from exploring and enjoying your twenties and college life."
You can't help but scoff, "Bucky, I've been spending a majority of my twenties either at school or with you and my dad. I don't think you'd be holding me back at all."
He shrugs again, "Still. Just, take your time, alright, sugar? I'll be here when you need or want me."
"Okay," you reply softly.
You and Bucky both redress and he leads you to the kitchen where he makes you lunch. Afterwards, you give him a peck on the lips and leave.
On your way home, you think about what had just happened.
You thought you after getting Bucky out of your system, you'd be done. But nope, you're still drawn to his roaring flame. Are you bound to get burned? Probably. But that's what happens when you play with fire.
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ouchthathurts · 3 months ago
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❝ 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ❞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.4k
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𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Your best friend from high school is working at the same internship as you!
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Second Person Point of View | Angst | References to sex | Series? | Marijuana Use | Alcohol Use
𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ BINGO BANGO BABY!!!! I’ll be honest that I’m weighing on making this a series, I want o but I’m looking for the push
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There’s a familiar warmness that breaks from the open window, you smack your lips as you feel your tongue roll against the roof of your mouth, the taste of fruity alcohol mixed with marijuana has nestled into your tastebuds.
You miss the tongue in your mouth that helped implant it, stirring around and you couldn’t be happier to have someone, you held in such high regard, mix with you. You clutch the blankets and pull them to your chest—
What is there left to hide from him?
You slowly pull yourself from under the blankets, your naked top now feels the sun beat onto your chest, you try to recollect last night and think about what your next actions should be. There’s familiarity in the room, the old scratched up records pinned to a wall with an acoustic guitar that was never played properly, work out bean bags, and a small round table with scratched up games' controllers on it. There’s a box of pizza, one slice left—
“You can have it, just heat it up in the morning.”
You don’t take it, no matter how much you feel the vibration in your stomach, you suck it up and began to collect your clothes scattered around the area. You see the familiar Sonic CD rug in the center of the room just before the bed, there you find your underwear, you see your shirt on top of the lava lamp next to his bed, and you find your bottoms next to your school bag.
Your shoes are downstairs, his parents always had slippers to offer at the door whenever you and/or his other friends would come over. It was the only thing they were really strict on when it came to him. You look inside your bag, nothing but schoolbooks and the binder you used for all your note taking, you throw it out the window and into one of the bushes in front of his house.
You look for your phone, on the dresser with some old DVDs of movies that his mother still had, none of them were really interesting except for this one you really enjoyed. ‘Your Name Engraved Herein’, it always made him cry, you had to comfort him after the movie but no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it’s okay, he just continued to bawl into your shoulder about how amazing this movie was.
Maybe it was because you didn’t pay attention to the movie, more focused on his expression as he experienced the movie, he’d tell you little tid bits and explained it to you afterwards when you told him you didn’t really understand. There was always commentary with him when it came to movies, you loved every second of his little movie watching sessions, friends would throw popcorn and hush him, but you eagerly leaned in to hear him whisper small facts about the movies he’d have you all watch.
Even when he finished explaining the movie you didn’t get it, but he told you: “I cried every time I’ve watched this movie without fail, ever since I was like in middle school, my mom would watch this movie, and it would be me and her crying our eyes out over it.”
You grabbed your phone, around the 20% mark it was mainly just texts from your mother about spending the night at his again, she would tell you that you were messing up the future she was perfectly crafting for you and that you needed to learn more discipline before college started. It was always grades, attendance, and extracurriculars with her.
You only did the bare minimum, average grades, average attendance, and chess club.
Your mother hated it.
“He's bringing you down! His parents don't even care about what he's up to! You think I'm gonna let you mess everything I have going for you for some low life boy who can't even follow something as simple as wearing a uniform to school?”
You defended him, like you always did, why wouldn't you? He was there for you when you were down, always there for you, like he was there for you this weekend. You kept scrolling through messages; besides your mother, it was only him who would text you daily.
You had people you studied with, your mother’s friends’ kids, and the family you were already distant with. You had to get home. You slid all your clothes on before you peeped your head through the door, the sound of the shower running and music coming from the speaker he took in the shower with him blaring through the empty house.
His father worked on weekends and his mother went grocery shopping Sunday, “Was it Sunday?” You thought out loud, you couldn’t think about the time you were last back at your house, you made your way down the stairs and towards the door when you found your shoes.
You slip them on and then make your way out; after closing the door you pick up the rock from the little pond, they had next his porch, you lock the door and place the key back where it belongs. You go through the bushes, searching for your bag and a huff out of frustration when you dust the dirt off of it.
There's another huff as you sling the bag over your shoulder and then silence, there's sounds of nature from his neighborhood and now her you were just walking down the street, hoping on the next bus and another back towards the apartment your mother and you shared.
As you unlock the door your mother sits on the couch, she's watching her programs with the same 4 speakers on the different channels she's gone through in the past
“At his place again?” And the way she can't even say his name, it melts off her tongue like a slur and you can't help but bite back a response before she gets up. “Well, how was it? His family feed you?” You shook your head, “No, ma'am. His parents weren't home.”
Why would you say that?
You see the anger in her face, “Oh?” The woman makes her way over to you, there's no hesitation in your stature as it's a routine check. The way she pulls down the collar of your shirt leaves your breath to hitch, you try to snatch her wrist only for her long and jagged nails to scratch at the skin of your palm leaving you to hiss in pain.
There's no surprise with the number of dark marks that were collected by the boy, it was his first time as much as it was yours. You feel the warmness in your cheeks before your mother's eyes burn into you, her stare boiling you alive as you do nothing but just stare at the ground.
“Look at me when I talk to you,” Your name is a bark of a command, called out like a show dog to those she wants to impress then kicked at like a mutt the rest of the time. You pull your head up, you don't want anymore imprints in your cheeks, your acne already fucking up your face as is.
“What did you two do?” You roll your eyes, mumbling ‘Nothing.’ before she snatches up your jaw, those nails now cut up the pimples on your face to leave the pus to pop out You want to whine, cry like a child, ‘Mommy! Stop! You're hurting me!’ You, unfortunately, allow this with your eyes creasing and a small frown rugging on your lips that seems don't only make her madder.
“Your breath reeks of weed and alcohol. I can't believe you'd go and mess around with that boy, after everything I told you!” The woman lets out a pained sigh, as if her coming to spit in your face and yell at you was somehow your puppeteering her to do so. “What if he got you pregnant? How could you do something so dumb! It doesn't even surprise me, he probably talked you into it–Knowing his little delinquent self and his little gang he's probably riddled with some type of disease.”
You want to tell her off, he would never do something like that, all his friends are different from him, they're all a bunch of party goers that just want to do narcotics and fuck each other silly.
“He's not like that.” You strained out of your pursed lips, your mother's tongue smacks against the roof of her mouth, “The boy is nothing but spoiled. His parents just give, give, give, give, and give to some little freeloader who's going to do nothing for his life besides leaching off his parents' money.” You can't hear this anymore.
“He's actually trying to get a job!” Your mother cackles, “Oh yeah? He's getting a job?” “Yes!” “Well, why doesn't he already have one like you do? You got your own job at the library when you were 14, you were obedient then, before you met that little…” There's a seething rage in the woman, she's sucking at her teeth, and she'll be grinding them into a fine powder if she continues.
You bite your tongue, he had definitely had an impact on you, like he always has. You wanted to try and dye your hair one day with him, layer your outfits, be outside of the uniform, wear make up, dress up on those days where you were allowed casual dress, and take your time with life in general.
Those nights he'd stare at stars on the roof with you, he'd point up and explain how sometimes he felt so small in this world. “This is really the one way I can try and be in impact on such a big world!” He gestures to his brightly colored outfit; you find yourself lost in his expression as it's just a nice mix of brightly colored acrylics that melded with his tanned skin.
You admire him.
Even as spit hits your face you're left with the same rant over and over again, “I work hard at my job so you have all the tools not to end up like me, slaving away for some ungrateful brat of a child, instead never having kids and being happy you don't have to waste your money on some freeloader until it's too late.”
Your mother took responsibility to raise you, even after your father was distant to the idea, it be some apparent that these two were working in separate directions that only pulled you apart.
Honestly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be on the ground with a full bottle of pills being guzzled down your throat.
Your mother notices your expression and she huff, “Stop being around, hanging around him, being around him, he'll do nothing but drag you down and he won't be doing you any good in the future other than a book up for narcotics.” The woman gets all in your face, “You wanna end up like me? I only stopped doing all those things once I found out I was pregnant with you! Do you really want to end up like me?”
Strikes a nerve.
You never wanted to be like your mother, her sad life with a child who could only resent their mother, her boyfriend who abandoned her to go do more drugs, and no one to fall on. It's sad, you feel for her, you see where she's coming from you, and you sigh upon seeing her fall to her knees to grab at yours.
The woman sobs into your thighs, wincing at the familiar grip from the night before most definitely bruising them from such harsh treatment, “Pl-ease!” The squeak in her voice as she says your name, she is begging and all you can do is try to comfort a woman who has never taught you how to comfort someone. You rub her head, and she sighs, sniffling a bit before she continues, “I don't want you to end up like me! Don't love someone who's only going to bring you down! I know you can do better!”
Your mother wouldn't tell you it now, but you were now stuck with this. Your mother always knew if you were around him, she worked there as the librarian. You were called to stay later helping your mother, doing more on campus, and a demand for straight as after a C in an AP course came up.
It wasn't surprising since the both of you took the same class.
You couldn't let your mother win but here you were, letting her win, and you could do nothing as you found her beginning to bring the hammer down. “I can't let ever you make a mistake that big again.” You were tested for everything; she kept track of your periods and was around you whenever you had free time.
“You've been summoned to the library,” The dreaded phone call before you left class, it killed something in you when you and he could barely talk most days. You guys didn't really share class, even when he went out his way to take APs it became apparent to him how much harder it was for him to really keep up with you.
Those daily ‘Good morning!’ messages fell into weekly ‘Have a good week!” texts. Not because of him, but because of you. You couldn't even keep up with everything, once your mother pinpointed the college you needed to get into or she'd kick you out, simply if you applied yourself the way your mother wanted.
But it meant you'd have to leave him behind…
D-S ▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼
Hey! I know last night was a lot. I'm sorry if I messed up, I know I wasn't going to be the best but I’m sure you'll have other people do it way better than me!
1:30 PM 9/05
Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!
9:45 AM 9/06
When do you get off work today?
4:30 PM 9/06
I'm getting pizza, do you want me to get you a box???
2:49 PM 9/14
Y'know one for now, one for when you're depressed! I finally got the reference!
2:58 PM 9/14
Are you okay?
3:24 AM 9/30
Did I do something wrong?
3:25 AM 9/30
I'm sorry if I did anything wrong
3:29 AM 9/30
I mean that, I'm really sorry
3:33 AM 9/30
Can we talk?
3:34 AM 9/30
We haven't like sleep called in forever, and it would give us time to talk stuff out, whatever I did wrong you can tell me.
3:45 AM 9/30
Please?
3:48 AM 9/30
I didn't know you and Ange became friends I always thought you both hated each other.
12:39 PM 10/19
I didn't do our matching costumes it felt like a disservice if it wasn't with you.
4:29 PM 10/30
Dude, family's being weird, wish you were here!
7:38 PM 11/28
Happy Holidays, I got you something! Do you know when I can come over and give it to you?
11:29 AM 12/25
Hey, I'm having this new year party! Y'know like new year new me! I plan on trying out for stuff like sports and getting on my academics!
9:28 AM 12/31
I'm tryna get like you!
9:40 AM 12/31
My parents asked about you today, they were like ‘When are you coming over?’ and ‘What are you up to these days?’
10:02PM 1/17
Happy Valentine's Day, I know you got a lot of stuff cause you're just cool like that
10:38AM 2/14
Even I got you something!
10:38 AM 2/14
Lmk when I can give it to you!
10:38 AM 2/14
I'm sorry for being annoying this year, I really am sorry for anything I did to you. Have a good time in college!
11:00 AM 6/30
You began to avoid him, he'd go to the library to rent out a book and watch as you restock, he'd text you and you'd have the read receipt there just to think about responding to him only to put the phone down, you walk around campus without a care, cordial whenever faced with head on confrontation, and that's how it was until you graduated.
You went off, pursued your own interest in space your mother said it was your choice to study nut it needed to make enough money for you and her. Now you were just as excited to get on and do things outside of your mother now that you were finally free from the woman. You decided to take all your classes online, you'd had this internship lined up for you and nothing could bring you more joy than joining the manpower in space.
There's a big smile on your face as you meet your comrades, Curly, your pilot and Jimmy, the Co-Pilot, you'd be shadowing the two for tour duration of their trip on the Pony Express. Anya, the nurse, who would be the only woman on the ship, you loved to be around her and her little jokes. Then there was Swansea, he wouldn’t stop complaining about having some intern, “They better pull their weight.” The man grumbled out.
You weren’t shocked to find out you guys were waiting on another guy, the two of you added last minute on behalf of the Pony Express, finally a guy popped through the door, explaining that he was at a party the night before celebrating Earth before he had to leave. Your eyes crease as you examine the man’s features, ‘No fucking way.’
That lovingly sun kissed complexion that had the contrast of his brighter highlights against his already chestnut colored hair. There, on his face, stood the markers for where you kissed on him that night, a mole under his right eye and the left mole lower down his round cheeks.
The fact that he couldn't even wear the uniform alone almost made you fall before him, he hadn't changed in ways you thought he would, and it tore at your heartstrings to realize how much you missed him. The familiar sound of the two bangles on his wrist that contrasted the red wrist band he wore that you also had from the first party he took you to.
There's a plethora of excuses that rush out of his mouth, and you just listen to now his voice only be one softer to your ears. Earning its way into your eardrums to nestle in your memory in order to haunt you for the rest of your stay.
While the group continues to get everything on the ship there's a silence that falls between the two of you when his eyes finally land on you. Your friend was a day you could never forget, the morning after your happiest night alive, you'd coo into his ear that you loved him, and he'd do the same with a chaste kiss on your forehead.
Yet, here you were, reliving those memories and wondering how the fuck do you even start the conversation. You watch as he makes his way over, your rib cage encased around your organs before crushing them like a corset.
With each step your breath hitches, your eyes faltering between looking him in the eyes only for your nostrils to fill with disgustingly sweet peach cologne he had to have. Why wear something like that for all these years? You're grateful he would even wear something like this to this day.
There's a hand on front of you, wide open with some rings on his fingers, his fingers spread a bit and when you take one last inhale of his cologne you pull your head up to look him in the eyes. There's a warmness in his face, it hasn't worn down and has only brightened since you last saw him, you feel your heart clench as you hear his voice.
“Heya! I'm Daisuke, I’m psyched to be working with someone as new as me!”
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©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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arcaneauthor · 5 months ago
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Cute things San does as your bf
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Requested by: @oc3anfloor
Pairings: Choi San x reader
Tags: established relationships, so much fluff, San being a golden retriever bf
Warnings: one small mention of drinking, but mostly just pure sweetness
Author’s note: fun fact, I was almost finished with this and accidentally deleted the whole thing so I had to try to remember what I wrote and rewrite all of it🙃 anyways hope you enjoy lol! Pls feel free to send me more requests🙏
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
San would definitely be the softest boi with you
Even tho you told him he doesn’t need to spend so much on you, he makes it his mission to take you out on a really fancy date at least once a month to make you feel special. He even shows up in a suit and with a rose in hand.
He hand makes Valentine’s Day cards for you cause they “have more meaning”
Let’s you co-parent shiber with him. Aka: you take him for one week and he takes him for the next. (If your a new fan and don’t know who shiber is it’s sans favorite plushie lol)
But if he goes on tour he lets you keep him until he gets back.
Gets so shy when you compliment him, face going all red. Especially if it’s about his body/muscles
Gives out the best compliments. Like they’re not just typical clichés, they are always so thoughtful and specific.
Somehow becomes even more affectionate while drinking. If people are right about drunk actions just being sober thoughts then this man must really love you, cause you hear him say it about 20 times before you can even get him in the car.
Nose kisses all day long
Such a big cuddle bug, always wrapped around you like a koala.
Although, he knows he can sometimes be a bit much so if you’re not a very touchy person he can definitely take the hint and back off a bit. He’d never want you to feel uncomfortable around him
Literally does everything that’s included in the typical “gentleman” category: opening your door, pulling out your chair, carrying your bags, etc. Not because of some macho agenda but it’s just another small way for him to show you respect and how much you mean to him.
If he for some reason has to leave before you wake up he leaves you a sweet little hand written note beside the bed.
Loves to lay on top of you and nuzzle his head into your chest or stomach.
Literally just looks at you as if you hung the stars. Every time he even glances your way he has the most loving stare paired with the softest smile you’ve ever seen
Starts off trying to act all brave when the two of you watch horror movies but he ends up being the one hiding his face behind you.
Pays such close attention to everything you say. Somehow remembers all of your likes and dislikes, even if it’s something small that you only mentioned one time in passing.
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nobodysdaydreams · 2 months ago
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I enjoy looking through these Wicked AU’s where the Wizard stays and raises Elphaba and becomes a (still evil and very morally questionable) but loving father to her and her friends. However, I have a controversial opinion that this works best when the Wizard is written as someone who becomes a dad in his early 20’s/college age.
Like no offense to Jeff Golblum’s casting, he does a fantastic job, but he’s also in his 70s, which would make him in his 40s when he had Elphaba, and I just do not see that for the Wizard. Crying about how “yes, he was hooking up with random women and drinking strange beverages and yeah, he always wanted to be a dad, but no, he never ever considered that one thing might lead to the other because he was too busy enjoying his youth! His 42-year-old youth, far too young to consider fatherhood even on the table even though it was all he ever wanted and he had a whole song about it.”? I just personally feel like the Wizard’s actions make so much more sense for someone who’s in their early 20’s, just arrived in a magic land, is a generally selfish and irresponsible person, and isn’t considering the future or long term impact of their actions. Plus this man is from the late 1800s/early 1900s so whatever level of child development knowledge you picture this version of the Wizard having, lower it even further if you can.
With this in mind, I would appreciate a Wicked AU where if the Wizard is gonna stick around to try to be a dad, his young age and carefree, irresponsible, and somewhat selfish attitude is reflected in his parenting choices. He’s not a teen dad, but he’s certainly not much older. Melena Thropp hands him the baby and is he’s like “why is she green?” And she’s like “I don’t know, but my husband can’t know about this, so that’s your problem now.” And the Wizard’s like “well, I suppose this is what happens when you repeatedly hook up with an older married woman in a magical land and drink weird potions with her. Wasn’t how I envisioned becoming a dad, but at least it’s not the weirdest Friday I’ve ever had.”
Then he takes Elphaba traveling with him and tries using the “loving single dad” image to impress women like he’s in a Hallmark movie, while also trying to casually ask people for advice on kids because he doesn’t have a clue. When do you send them to school? Do they have schools in Oz? Should he try to homeschool her? Elphaba starts reading on her own and instead of concluding she has great mysterious power the Wizard is like “wow, my little girl’s so smart, I guess some kids can just do that aren’t I lucky I don’t have to teach her?” and never questions it. No clue how child development works. No clue what is age appropriate. He’s taking five year old Elphaba along with him when he performs magic tricks in bars at midnight. He’s taking her to evil business meetings as he’s plotting to take over Oz when she’s too young to know what’s happening. His advisors witness Elphaba’s skill, tell him she’s the key to securing their power for all time, and he’s like “right? My daughter is so special, she’s my lucky charm! 🥰” not even realizing she’s obviously the witch that was prophesied because he thought all of Elphaba’s skills were just cute little quirks. The Wizard’s advisors suggest blaming the Animals, and the Wizard’s like “no, we can’t do that. My daughter loves them. We will blame someone else and spread malicious lies about them instead.” Like he’s still evil, he’s still scum, but he’s also like “I’m a dad now. I can’t arrest and torture my child’s friends. I’ve gotten a “father of the year” award in my Father’s Day card for the past nine years, I cannot jeopardize that when I’m so close to a decade winning streak.”
Eventually, Elphaba uncovers every evil thing her father is doing at like 14 and defeats him and his advisors with her super powerful magic because the Wizard’s advisors have been training her this whole time, hoping she’ll become their weapon while the Wizard has been encouraging her as a loving dad telling her she can “be anything she wants to be” and making sure all of Oz adores her. So when Elphaba defeats his armies, takes over Oz, and exposes all his crimes, he’s not even that mad. A little teenage rebellion, that’s all this is, plus her skill is so impressive, the Wizard can’t help but be a little proud, and she’s running things better than he ever could, so why not just let her do her thing and go back to building model replicas of Oz in the garage? His advisors are begging him to stop her and he’s like “why? She’s doing such a good job!” “She defeated us for all time! A pathetic child!” “Super powerful child is more like it. How could I not be proud?” “But you’re her father! Do something! Stop her! We must bring her down!” “Nonsense, teen rebellion is normal. All teenagers say stuff like “I want more independence” and “Dad, I love you, but what you and your friends are doing is morally bankrupt and as much as it hurts me, I have to stand up for what’s right even if it means standing against you”. It’s fine! It’s just a phase. Chill out and let the kid and her friends run things. Enjoy the retirement. I know I am.” “Sir, you’re only 38.” “Exactly. The perfect retirement age. I’m an old man.” “But Elphaba single handily defeated our armies! Her power is out of control and cannot be contained!” “Again, all I’m hearing is how impressive she is. And to think, it’s all thanks to me. Raising her as a single father and she becomes the most powerful witch in all of Oz, can you believe it? Gosh, I’m wonderful.”
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