#which blows my mind bcs the fact that this showed up in a second hand store is INSANE
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I'm so normal about this game <3
#my sister helped me buy it <333#bcs I didn’t have the money on hand but wanted it so much#so she bought it for me in return for me repaying her back at my own pace#seriously she's the fucking best#she roasted me tho LMAO#'you looked so pathetic that I decided to just buy it for you first' -my sister to me#WHICH IS TRUE LMAO#also in case anyone is wondering I got this from a second hand store#which blows my mind bcs the fact that this showed up in a second hand store is INSANE
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how do you think a boomerang and flash fight wouldve gone if the suicide squad were the ones brainwashed instesd of the justice league? frankly i just wanna hear how you think a brainiac!boomerang and flash would interact, youve got the BEST boomerflash headcanons i swear-
Henlo my sweet anon! Also, I just wanna say, the ego feeding is very nice lolol /lh
Also, compared to the wittiness of Brainiaced Flasher n Digger, I do think these two switched would be more on the angsty side.
Anyway:
It'd probably depend on if they were already dating, which amma make two versions of! Aka, if they'd already dated and if they had something that they didn't name (aka kinda on and off deal)
DATING:
Boomer, brainiaced, would be a force to recon with for Flash (im only half joking). I feel like the whole TFX probably got sent into the field by Waller, while the Justice League got held back as a "safety requirement". At first they thought that Suicide Squad was just bitching, but when the bombs weren't there AND Deadshot was the one that got out of the brainwashing for long enough to tell them what happened (why DS u might ask - obviously bc he loves his kid so much he'd rather kill himself instead of endangering her planet).
The whole Justice League (well, as whole as they were shown in the game lmao) gets separated and they have to fight their villains, now somewhat "mutated", one vs one. Flash is somewhat happy that no-one is there to witness it. His voice soft and breaking, while he tries his best to wake his lover up from this nightmare.
He knows there's no saving, he knows he has to kill him, but by Speedforce, he doesn't want to.
Do you think his hand would shake while he's landing his last blow? Do you think Boomer would wake up at the end, the pure fear showing in his eyes, while he trembles and cries, knowing that he woke up too late?
The fight wouldn't go as smoothly as it normally goes for Flash, Boomer not only with Speedforce but also knowing him well enough that he's practically instinctively Speedster-proof.
I imagine it would be a long fight, mostly because Flash would fight the fact that he has to end the other and because Boomer would absolutely spew some hurtful shit enough that it'd stop the other in his tracks.
Every blow done faster than a human eye can see, Flash dogging the goddamn boomerangs, while also trying to dodge the man himself.
The witty banter is defo one-sided, Barry already mourning the other.
If Hal would see him, he'd point out that it was exactly what he was worried about.
If we'll try the "happy ending route", with Boomer's fear for his life actually waking him up a second before he is in fatal condition, he and Barry cannot stay alone in one room for weeks after.
The speedster aches whenever he and Digger land alone somewhere, just to see the thief shake and curl in himself in fear, his mind remembering the pain and the taste of death on his tongue too well.
Barry's need to comfort Boomer vs Barry's need to accommodate Boomer, fight!
If he dies, Flash comes back to his teammates after a while, when/if they dealt with their own... issues, somehow knowing that he cannot afford to actually have a burial for his love. That if he doesn't want the heat that comes with dating a villain, he cannot bury the man who he wished to hold in his arms one more time.
I actually have a half-issue with this! Would he, knowing that it's too late to fix anyway, still put himself on blast like that? Knowing his history with Godspeed, probably! But it somehow doesn't seem to fit for me, huh.
IF HE WASN'T DATING DATING HIM:
He's so in denial. Gods bless.
Speedforce plus Boomer is a strong combo, I feel like he'd be a little more unpredictable since he'd be also pushed by the feeling of "not being enough" for Barry.
When Flash hears it in the chaotic mumble coming from Boomer, he's absolutely dumbstrucked.
Can you imagine if Kid Flash or Impulse are helping him at the moment? Or any other Flash fam members?
Their need to ask him "why tf is this Rouge calling you his bitch ex wife" dies down quickly, when the panicking apologies get practically torn out of the Speedster's throat.
He never meant to make the other feel like that, how could he not notice it?
Boomerang is hitting every sensitive spot of their relationship, or more lack of it. The words he says are from the darkness of his mind he would let himself slip into only while being so insecure that it hurts. This one is not coming back to us, even for the last second of his life.
"But before u said that he comes back out of fear for his life, why wouldn't he come back here?" Because he's not living the life that he'd think is worth it, c'mon, keep up ;)
Our lovely scarlet boy needs a BREAK after this fight. His shock lasted too long few times and Digger was so good at hitting where it hurts that he definitely stopped more than once.
Flash fam/Anyone else helps him get back on his legs, but they can't exactly navigate it - so they weren't in a relationship AND that's the issue?
Tho I'm sure few of them just kinda stop around him in understanding - they can't make it better, but they can make sure that he knows they're here for him.
Talking bout it, Godspeed (who I count as a part of Flash fam, fight me) does actually get it. He keeps close to the other while they fight for their world, making sure that Barry won't fall without there being anyone to catch him.
Can you let yourself mourn someone you wouldn't let yourself love?
ANyway, it went way more into the "what if they'd fight to death" than into "how would they interact", but well :'D
#idk#probably bad english#bsing trough life#<3#ssktjl#flash x captain boomerang#boomerflash#captain boomerang#Tw death#tw murder#Angst#tw angst#angsty hcs kinda#Flash would wipe the floor with the man and cry after#Am sorry (i am not)#flasherang#flasharang
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stuck with you - mason mount
in which you’re the last person mason ever wants to be stuck in a lift with, or so he says
thank you once again to my bestie @mountsmason u never fail to deliver, also i made this a little halloweeny, this will be a 2 parter bc this was really long but this really didn’t turn out how i wanted smh i blame uni for ruining my brain cells
warnings: swearing, slight smut, oral (F) receiving,
To say you hated Mason Mount would be a colossal understatement. There were no words in the English language that could accurately describe how you felt about him. In your head you felt it was a fine line between hatred and lust, sometimes you wanted to smash his pretty face into the table and other times you wanted him to fuck you senseless. But that didn't change the fact you still didn't like him.
He was an arrogant prick who thought the world owed him something for being such a brilliant footballer. He thought that his name and status meant he could get away with treating you like shit for reasons you can’t even begin to think of. You don’t even remember the first time you officially met Mason, you got pretty much black out drunk that night after breaking up with your boyfriend yet again, so you have no idea what happened that night to make him hate you so much. Surely if you’d done something that bad you’d remember or someone would have told you.
Mason was always so nice to everyone else. Smiling and laughing constantly, quite literally the definition of butter wouldn’t melt but his entire personality changed around you. He could be the most lovely person one minute and the second you appeared he turned into some dickhead who thought your never ending line of failed relationships was a funny joke he could continuously dig at. You’d tried at first to find out what had happened, you’d asked him on more than one occasion what you’d done that meant he disliked you so much, but he’d made up his mind.
He hated you. So in return you hated him.
It had become an endless cycle of trying to dodge each other at social events and attempting to play nice for Ben's sake but you could feel the elastic band pulling tighter and tighter and you didn't know which end was going to snap first. Would you finally hash it out in a screaming match that would hurt your best friend or would you let him fuck you to let it all out which would also end up hurting Ben? This far down the line either option was looking strong.
You felt a little nauseous about the fact you were on your way to a Halloween party you knew he was at, God knows how many hours spent pretending you didn't want to punch him. Unfortunately for you, Mason was important to Ben and given the fact Ben was your best friend that meant you had to put up with the shitty company he liked to keep. You'd brought up how Mason treated you to Ben a few times but he never really listened, in his eyes, just like everyone else's, Mason could do no wrong. You just hoped one day they'd realise what massive arsehole he was.
"What are you dressed as again?" Ben's voice sounded through your phone, the device pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you handed money over to the cab driver.
"An angel, how many more times are you gonna ask me? Thank you!" You called to the driver as you opened the cab door, legs already starting to freeze in the night time air. "God it's freezing out here." You had to hold on to the halo headband in your hair for fear the wind would blow it away and you were thankful for how tight your dress was otherwise everyone would be getting a show right now.
"I swear you told me yesterday you bought a police woman's outfit." You could hear shouting in the background and you already knew the flat the party was being held in was going to be heaving when you got up there. But that's what you got for taking so long to get ready.
"I did but it made my tits look weird. I'm downstairs by the way, it is the top floor isn't it?" You tilted your head back to look up at the huge building, trying to figure out which side of the building the party was on.
"Yeah, spilled out on to the roof too."
"Sorry?"
"Joe made sure we had rooftop access. It's insane up here." You tried to focus your vision to the roof and you could just make out a few sparks of light and you could most definitely hear the sound of music. "He's got proper Halloween decorations up."
"Scream isn't gonna jump out at me, is he? Because you know I won't hesitate to stab whoever it is with my keys." You smiled at a man standing outside the building as you headed for the revolving doors, eager for a little bit of warmth. You're kind of mad you didn't bring a jacket now that you know most people are on the roof.
"Can't make any promises. I'm gonna go, okay? Get you a drink before you come up, oh and by the way-" You missed the end of his sentence because of someone screaming on his end but Ben didn't repeat himself, just shouted a goodbye and ended the call. With a huff you jammed your phone back into your purse, making your way passed the reception desk which, considering it was Halloween, was bare.
You made your way over to the lift, hands tugging at the ends of your white dress to pull it further over your bum where it had ridden up on your way out of the car. To be fair you're not even sure you could call it a dress, the material was barely covering all your most important parts, and you knew you were going to face teasing from Ben but you looked good so who was he to judge?
You pressed your finger into the button for the lift, shifting a little in your heels and fixing the halo on your head, smoothing your hair down in the process.
"Don't tell me you dressed up like this for me, sweetheart." Your hands froze in the process of brushing through your hair at the sound of his voice and you drew your eyebrows together, turning to see him smirking a few feet behind you.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You puffed out a breath as you turned back around to face the lift, cursing whoever it was that made it so you had to see Mason before you'd had at least one bottle of vodka.
"Not even gonna say hello?" He slid up beside you, arm purposely brushing yours and you hated yourself for the way you shivered in response. You ignored him, gaze set straight ahead as you tapped your finger against your elbow. "I'm curious, the angel thing you've got going on, is it part of your game to convince people you're oh so nice and innocent?"
You bit into your cheek, determined not to give him a reaction. You could see him watching you out of the corner of your eye, his gaze sweeping your entire body before settling on your face. You knew you'd have to see Mason at some point tonight, you just weren't prepared to see him the second you arrived when you were still stone cold sober.
"Silent treatment, really? I'm just trying to be friendly, (Y/N)." You finally turned to glare up at him, even in your heels you weren't his height and it made you want to punch him even more. You eyed his costume, or lack of, mouth twisting in a grimace.
"What are you even meant to be?"
"You can't tell?
"You're hardly fucking wearing anything, Mount, no, I can't tell." The lift beeped, the doors sliding open and you sent a pointed look at the boy next to you. "You can wait for the next one."
"Don't be stupid, I'm not waiting." He stepped into the lift and lounged against the far wall, hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Are you getting in or not, sweetheart?" You really didn't want to be trapped in that tiny space with him for even a few moments but you also didn't want to be stood down here for any longer so with a little groan you followed him in, standing as far away from him as possible.
You watched him press the button for the top floor and you briefly wondered if you should just try the stairs but then the doors were closing and the two of you were wrapped up in silence. You could feel his eyes on you and you tried to fight the creeping blush at his close attention. Yes, your mind hated Mason but your body always felt extra attuned to him, you knew he was good looking and you couldn't help but react to that sometimes. That fact only made you hate him more.
The back wall was covered by a mirror and you turned to it, eying your reflection as you pulled a tube of lip gloss from your purse. Mason was still watching you, his gaze following your reflection and you arched you brows at him.
"Were you wanting some of this? I don't think it's your colour to be honest." Mason leant against the mirror so he could look straight at your face, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"A fireman."
"What?"
"That's what I'm supposed to be, a fireman." You turned to him, gaze sweeping from the boots to the black protective trousers and the suspenders set around nothing. His entire upper body was on display and your eyes snagged on his little happy trail, cheeks turning a little pink even as you glanced away.
"You're a pretty shit fireman." Mason went to open his mouth but his words cut short when the lift jolted, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall. Your head tilted to the ceiling, eyes scanning everywhere to see what had happened. "It stopped moving. What did you do?" You made your way over to the wall of buttons, glare evident on your face.
"What do you mean "what did I do"? I obviously didn't break the fucking lift." Mason came up behind you, hand reaching around to press the little intercom.
"You must have leant against the buttons," You whacked his arm away, glowering at how close he'd gotten. "Get away from me, God this really can't be happening."
"(Y/N), I'm trying to get through to someone, stop flapping your arm at me."
"Well stop touching me!"
"I'm not trying to touch you, fucking hell, will you just move out of the way?" Mason nudged you out of the way with his shoulder, pressing his finger down on the intercom. "Hi, uh, the lift is stuck, is there anyone there?" He was met with a silence that made your stomach drop. "Hello? Seriously, come on, there must be someone there. I swear to God if this is part of some sort of joke, it's not funny. Hello?"
You were just pulling your phone from your purse to call Ben's number when static from the intercom filed the small space.
"Hello?" Mason was quick to turn to it, finger pressing against one of the buttons.
"Hi, yeah, uh, why have we stopped?"
"We seem to be having an electrical issue, sir, we're trying to find the problem but we're going to have to ask you to hang tight for a while." You narrowed your eyes at this, arms crossing over your chest.
"Hang tight? What else are we meant to do? We can't exactly go anywhere." Mason sent you a warning look over his shoulder, a look that basically told you to keep your mouth shut.
"Do you know how long we'll be here?"
"Well, we aren't exactly sure, we have someone in the electrics room working on it, we're really sorry for any inconvenience." You leant back against the wall as Mason mumbled a thanks after the man over the intercom promised he'd keep you updated. Of course this could only happen to you, of course it would just so happen to be Mason you'd bumped into on your way up here.
You met his gaze across the small space, more than aware of the fact his earlier teasing attitude had completely disappeared and he was frowning at you from his spot. This was probably the first time you'd been alone together, and it was definitely the first time you'd ever been in a space this close, you had to remind yourself that murdering him in here would most likely get you arrested.
"So, who're you dressed up for?" Mason broke the tense silence, his hands settling in his pockets again.
"I could ask you the same thing. What's with the no shirt thing?" You fought to keep your eyes on his, determined not to give him the satisfaction of looking at his chest.
"I'm supposed to be a sexy fireman."
"I don't think your face got that memo."
"Funny." You rifled in your purse again, busting yourself with applying even more gloss to your lips in hopes of avoiding eye contact with Mason. "I can practically see your arse, y'know." You glanced at him in the mirror.
"Bet that's giving you a school boy boner. Might wanna think about your Gran in the shower." You rubbed your lips together and watched the crease between Mason's eyebrows deepen.
"You're so full of yourself." He practically spat the words, his arms folding over his chest as he moved to settle himself as far away from you as the lift allowed.
"I'm full of myself?" You parroted, eyes narrowing at him because how dare he? You've never in your life met someone as arrogant and self centred as he is and he has the audacity to turn it on to you?
"Do you not hear yourself when you speak? Not every single guy you meet wants you, (Y/N)." You whirled around, face twisting slightly because first of all what the fuck was he talking about and second who was he to talk to you like that?
"When have I ever claimed that they did? I'm pretty sure you're the one who spends nights out flocked by girls just so they can stroke that massive ego of yours." You angrily shoved your lip gloss back into your purse, the air in the lift feeling drastically different all of a sudden.
"It's not my fault that my job attracts women, you're the one who throws yourself at every man you see." You watched Mason's jaw tense, his eyes hard and looking at him you wondered how everyone seemed to think he was nice. Since the first day you'd met him he'd been nothing but rude to you, he constantly tried to belittle you with his stupid cocky comments and you were beyond sick of it.
"You're such a fucking arsehole, you know that? When have you ever seen me throw myself at anyone? We don't go anywhere together for you to see that." You felt an angry flush creep over your body, your mind spinning with the fact that his man who barely even knows you hates you so much for no apparent reason.
"I've heard shit about you, (Y/N), the boys talk you know." Mason had taken a step towards you, his gaze locked on yours, and your heart slammed against your chest at the look on his face.
"What boys? Is this why you hate me? Because you've heard stuff, stuff that probably isn't even true?" You matched his step forward, there wasn't much room in the lift to begin with and now you were pretty much right in his personal bubble.
"I hate you because you always act like you're better than everyone else. You're (Y/N) and you're oh so special and everyone should be falling to their knees for you." You jabbed your finger into his chest.
"Why are you so bothered about people liking me? Just because you have a huge stick up your arse and hate me doesn't mean everyone else does."
"They don't actually like you, (Y/N), you throw yourself at them and they have no other choice." The two of you were so close you could feel the heat coming from him, his cheeks slightly flushed as he glared down at you.
"How many more times are you gonna accuse me of throwing myself at people?"
"Maybe until you realise how pathetic it makes you.
"Is that what this whole thing is about? Because I haven't made a move on you? Maybe if you hadn't been such a wanker to me since the first fucking second we met I might have." You watched a muscle twitch in his jaw.
"See this is what I mean! You just automatically assume every single person you meet wants to be with you!" He shook his head slightly, brows drawn into such a tight frown you're sure it must hurt.
"Why are you pretending you know anything about me or how I act?" Mason puffed out a breath.
"God, for once just shut the fuck up, (Y/N)." You narrowed your eyes, glare matching his and took another step forward.
"Make me." You both realised the weight of your words at the same time and you watched Mason's throat bob on a swallow, his eyes flashing before he closed the gap between you. His hands rose to grip your jaw and you made a soft noise of surprise when he pushed you back against the wall. His kiss was harsh, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and you dropped your purse, wrapping your arms around his neck to yank at his hair.
Mason Mount was kissing you. Actually, fully kissing you and you didn't hate it. There was nothing gentle or caring about the kiss but it sent a thrill through you and had your heart skipping in ways no other man had ever made it before.
"Looks who's throwing themselves at other people now." You teased, nails grazing along his scalp as he pushed his hips against yours. His hand slid to your throat and he squeezed until you bucked into him.
"This doesn't change anything." Mason mumbled, lips moving from your mouth and along your cheek until he could kiss along your jaw. "I still hate you."
"Good, I hate you too."
It was like the words sent a kick through him because his teeth bit softly into the skin of your neck and his hands brushed over your thighs. You felt his fingertips slip beneath the fabric, hands pushing it up until it bunched around your waist and you shivered against him, pulling on his bottom lip.
Mason's fingers toyed with the thin band of your underwear and he pulled it before letting it snap back against your skin, smirking at the gasp you let out into his mouth. He returned one hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair to pull it back slightly while his finger grazed over the front of your underwear.
"Pretty eager for someone who supposedly hates me." He pointed out when you pushed against his hand. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze, surprised by the intensity in it.
"It doesn't matter how I feel about you." You kissed him again to stop him from replying, slipping your fingers around his suspenders so you could pull him closer. He was quick to push your underwear to the side, fingers sliding up your slit before pressing against your clit, the barely there pressure still making your blood rush.
Mason reached a little further up to pluck the halo from your head, dropping it to the floor beside your purse.
"I don't really think that's appropriate right now." His voice was low and his eyes were heavy lidded when he gazed down at you. "Did you think the angel costume could make up for how much of bitch you've been?" His words were punctuated with kisses and you hated yourself in that moment for the way your body reacted more than you hated him for the question.
"Stop talking." Was the only thing you could think of to say but Mason seemed completely fine with that as he turned to kissing your neck, fingers circling your clit until your knees almost buckled. You bit into your lip and let your head fall back against the wall when Mason dropped to his knees in front of you, one hand latching around the back of your knee. He was surprisingly gentle when he hooked your leg over his shoulder, head turning so he could kiss the inside of your thigh.
You could hear your phone buzzing in your purse but all you could focus on was the way Mason’s tongue darted out and flicked over your clit, his fingers digging harshly into your thighs. You let out a soft moan and slid your own fingers through his hair, one hand gripping the back of his head while the other grabbed the railing around the lift for support.
Your mind felt foggy with the way he licked over your clit, lips occasionally wrapping around it as he sucked, his gaze set on yours as he pulled moans and whimpers from you. You felt the tip of his finger nudge against your entrance and your thighs jolted slightly, sharp heel digging into Mason’s bare skin. Mason gave an extra harsh suck to your clit in response.
“Oh-“
“Not so mouthy anymore are we, sweetheart?” Mason buried two of his fingers inside you in one breath, curling them until you let out a soft cry of his name. You pulled at his hair, revelling in the hiss of pain he let out and you gripped your other hand tighter around the pole, your legs starting to feel shaky.
“Mason-“ The sound of static interrupted your breathy moan of his name and it turned into a yelp of surprise.
“Hello, sir? The lift is about to start moving again, we’ve temporarily fixed the issue but it’ll be out of use once you leave.” The man’s voice filling out the tight space felt like a harsh slap to the face and you were quick to push Mason away from you, cheeks burning as you fixed your underwear and pulled your dress back down.
“Oh my God.”
“Sir?” Mason looked dazed for a second, his own cheeks tinted a soft pink, lips pouty and wet but he suddenly snapped out of it at the look of horror on your face and his stoic expression returned. He hastily moved over to the intercom, completely avoiding your gaze as he spoke into it and you couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment and nausea that rolled over you as you grabbed your purse and the halo, awkwardly putting it back on your head.
Your entire body was tingling and you wanted to cry over the fact you weren’t sure if you wanted to jump Mason or slap him because he’d touched you and you’d liked it. You always thought there was underlying tension between the two of you but you felt humiliated over the fact you’d actually let him kiss you despite the fact he’d told you he hated you.
“(Y/N)-“
“Don’t.” You refused to meet his eyes, gaze trained on the buttons that had finally lit back up as the lift jolted back to life. “We’re gonna leave here and we’re gonna pretend none of that happened okay? None of it. If anyone asks we spent the whole time ignoring each other.” Relief flooded through you at the thought of getting out and all you wanted now was to wash the memory of Mason’s hands on you away with a bottle of vodka.
The lift shuddered to a stop again but this time the doors started to slide open and the sound of music and laughter filtered through. You finally lifted your gaze to Mason’s to see he was already watching you, that familiar glare back.
“Forget it all, Mount. Nothing happened.”
“Seriously? We’re really gonna play this game again?” He sounded angry, angrier than he’d ever sounded but you caught the undertone of hurt in his voice as confusion at his words washed over you. Again? At your lack of response Mason scoffed. “Y’know what, fine, whatever you want, (Y/N). You just proved exactly what I meant about how stuck up you are.”
With that he stormed out of the lift, hair still a complete mess and disappeared down the hallway. You were left staring after him, eyebrows drawn together, skin still tingling. You had no idea what game he was talking about, you’d never spent enough time with Mason to establish any games but you had no time to think too hard about his words because Ben was coming towards you.
“Oh I think you’ve pissed Mase off beyond measure tonight, he’s gone straight for the whisky, what did you do?”
#england nt#chelsea fc#football#football imagine#money mase#mason mount fluff#mason mount#mason mount fanfic#mason mount one shot#mason mount fic#mason mount blurbs#mason mount blurb#mason mount imagines#mason mount imagine#mason mount x reader#mason mount smut
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But Eddie with a gf who has stretch marks on her legs and stomach?
How woud he react to her being shy and insecure about them and not wanting to show Eddie her body bc she's embarrassed (•////•)
- 🌚 anon
I'm so sorry I took so long to reply to this :'') every time I typed something out, my brain would freeze. I finally managed to write something- hopefully it isn't too bad 💔 (is it in headcanon formation? yes. I was too lazy to actually write an imagine ^^" )
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sweetheart, seriously? you'd really think this man would give one damn about those itty bitty vines, that only defined the beautiful blossoming of your body as a whole? for real? well, let me save you a whole poetry slam of a complete stanza; he doesn't - never will.
wearing long sleeved shirts, or just baggier t-shirts to hide away the stretched tissue of your skin easier, should've been a dead giveaway from the beginning. though, seeing as how you and eddie were friends beforehand and he knew of your taste in clothing, which quite frankly was a variety of multiple interests, he knew you were one to wear clothing items that most-of-the-time swallowed your upper frame. if he saw you in sweats, it clearly was a lazy day or the time of your monthly visit from the fucking devil. if you wore baggy jeans - well, it just meant you were feeling more free or just wanted to be comfortable. so, all in all, the boy was oblivious to your insecurities. when you two began dating, he noticed the increase of bigger sweaters, bungy hoodies and shirts a size or two, too big... but it was more of a thing that flew to the back of his mind; he brushed it off because he was so used to seeing you dress your way. but a few months later, he caught on - finally.
you would avoid swimming during gym class, when spring would roll around. usually, you'd make up an excuse - your period, or some complete bullshit like ‘ sorry, my irritable bowl syndrome is acting up! ’. is it embarrassing? totally, but since it makes the teacher uncomfortable, they don't question it and send you right to the nurse. a habit of pulling the short-sleeves of your shirt down if they get bunched up too far had also become noticeable; eddie finding it cute at first, thinking maybe it's just a new nervous tick, but as time carried on it concerned him - you did it in general, sure, but you constantly did it in his presence. lastly, the avoidance of any flirting that ended up on the topic of nudity. with him showing his body? you either got really excited, or seriously flustered, but never bothered. however... whenever he even mentions sliding his hands up your shirt, let alone anything else, your face twists into an unreadable expression and you blow him away with some quick babble, before running off. this lead eddie to think maybe he was doing something wrong, perhaps overstepping boundaries or rushing you, simply because he can be oblivious, but after overhearing a conversation between you robin he finally clicked into his brain about what was wrong.
like any other thursday, he strolled down the corridor of the school that led to the club-based rooms in the back; a basement like, dingy smell filling the air the further he glided, ringed hand dragging along the wall. it was after school hours, approximately two after the last class had been dismissed - while his dnd gatherings were on fridays, your creative writing club took place on the second to last day of the school week, due to the fact that thursdays were more accurate for busy minds and because the day circled around old english itself. yeah, pretty odd. but, like always, he was on his way to pick you up; it was routine and always has been. just as his lazed, tired figure reached the oak wood door, hand reaching to the worn silver handle, he paused.
“ I just.. I don't know, robin. ” the brunette heard you mumble out to the blonde girl that was apart of you guys' outer friend group. she tended to sometimes stay after school with you, just so she can steer away from steve once in a while - he guess it was one of those days. silently, he'd place a hand to the door, only to cringe once his rings made the littlest clack of noise. you didn't seem to hear, however, so he focused on listening. “ I want to go further - it's not that I don't, and it's not like I don't trust eddie.. ” while you spoke, the slightest tremble could be heard; only seeming to appear more audible once you inhale. he could only imagine you running your hands through your hair nervously, like you always do. “ I'm just not.. I don't.. ” it was quiet for a moment, before robin spoke up; her voice soft, and oddly wobbly. “ you're still worried about how he'll think of you.. aren't you? ”. eddie looked through the small window within the door after that, only to you turned to her, nodding your head.
the conversation wasn't brought up after that. he acted like, to you at least, that he heard nothing - nada, zilch, not a word. but that didn't mean the words didn't play on repeat on his mind, in a loop, over and over. it began effecting his concentration during dnd matches, as well as making him zone out when a conversation took place. his mind would just drift, recalling the discussion until it'd drive him so far, that he'd rub his eyes in frustration and storm away to the confinements of his own presence. whether it be locked in the school bathroom, his own room or speed walking off to the quarry where he could clear his head. it was becoming a quick follow up of a frequent occurrence, so of course you confronted him one day at his locker.
a hand pushed into the door of the open locker, only to slam it shut with a loud squeak and click. eddie's eyes widened in alarm, but when he turned to the source, he only spotted you; frown pulling deeply at your lips and brows knitted so close together, he'd swear the edges of them would mound together into one. “ you.. okay? ” he'd question slowly, head dipping rhe slightest bit while doe eyes dramatically widened. although your boyfriend was known for being extra, you had none of it; skipping right to the blunt question on the tip of your tongue. “ why have you been acting weird? and don't say you haven't.. because your friends, our friends, will be right behind me to back me up. so tell me, eddie, what's going on? ”
eddie was hesitant to tell you, to voice that he actually eavesdropped on an important and personal topic, but with the predicament he was facing.. he had no choice but. obviously, he wanted until you two were in the contents of his trailer, but even after he dropped the bomb, he didn't expect you to... go so quiet. maybe you scolding him and chewing his ear off, maybe even a bit of a screaming match, but for you to fall to the expectations of a quiet mouse? it spooked him.
with a lowered head, you explained to him what actually went on in your head. the best you could, at least. you didn't go into too much detail about what all you were insecure about, but you did dig deep on some past events, and explained the marks on your body were not something you were proud of. it was nothing to be ashamed of, stretch marks were natural, but you just thought they didn't fit your form. models could wear them with no effort, movies stars could rock them all the way to their grave, but you? you were just a girl with a small group of friends, and very little school mates that talked to you. you were never really flashy with clothes, except the few skirts you wore for certain outings or occurrences. flaunting your skin was just not common for you, and it wasn't like you did it with someone special before... so, having a boyfriend, who one day you were bound to have sex with? It left a bad taste in your mouth from fear.
god.. but eddie? his heart literally shattered at the confession. seeing tears build up in the corners of your eyes made his chest ache in ways he didn't know was possible. to make matters even worse, when you tried to look at him, you instantly had to squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head away; too far into the pit that opened up, to where you were on the verge of crying. when a small hiccup left past your lips, is when the metalhead finally dove forward and scooped you into his arms.
eddie munson, vowed to the oath by his very uncle, that he'd always treat people with respect unless deemed otherwise. he'd treat his partner like royalty, he wouldn't dare judge them for the flaws they couldn't control or simply needed help with. even grimacing at something so natural that was meant to be presented on the human body, would leave him with the dignity of a fucking sewer rat. he knew you didn't see him as a horrible person, and that it was actually just a bad clouding of thoughts in your head, which is why he decided to show you how much he cared.
soft pets to your head would be given, while gentle presses of his lips would be melted into your hair. he'd constantly whisper windy praises, so supple and sweet into your ear. since he didn't want to spook you, he'd wait it out patiently; watch as you calm down, your face slacking into a serene state that told him he'd succeeded in making you feel at least a little okay. that'd make him carry on with laying you down alongside him, him caressing the back of his folded knuckle down the alignment of your face and across hour cheek. gentle kisses placed to each feature; cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, the corners of your mouth that'd slowly turn upwards. and, as he gazes into your eyes with a happy grin, he'd kiss your lips fully.
an inhale deep through his nose, while the hand that'd been constantly busy with your face, dragged down your shoulder onto to later on dip across your hip. soft caresses, breezy touches and squeezes. your shirt would be lifted, him of course asking permission beforehand. he'd lead butterfly kisses down your face, across the lining of your jaw, over your throat's column and peppered over your collarbones. a slow drag of his touch down your chest, before pulling up to bunch your shirt up more. his eyes, upon landing on the beautified lines across your stomach, and hips, lite up; taking in your middle half with a breathless laugh of glee. he'd be overjoyed you'd finally let him see you.. this part of you. before you could even doubt him, or yourself, he's swooping down to kiss at your skin; playful nips given in between.
you'd never think it'd actually be such a joy to let your boyfriend see you so vulnerable, cheeks even sticky with old tear stains, but jeez - were you wrong. with the way he practically worshipped you, it had your heart thumping in unrhythmic bumps; not keeping a steady tune since your heart strings were being tugged on. in a good way. when eddie began dragging his teeth over your stomach, looking up to your as a smirk grew on his open lips, a gasping laugh left you and you instantly tried to curl up and away from him. It tickled and he fucking knew it, which is why he held your down; one hand firmly on your hip, pressing it into the old couch you laid across, while he other hand curled around the upper flesh of your thigh. he laughed along with you, not even taking a moment to stop at his affectionate attack.
the night carried on like that, all playfulness and laughter and eddie showing you he isn't afraid of breaking society's standards, once again. he loves you, deeply, and would give you the actual world if he could. of course, he didn't know by helping you face your insecurities instead of getting upset with you... that he already did give you the world.
.
.
.
hi, I did not proof read over this. I'm sorry if there are errors or that my brain got jumbled at one point and things don't make sense. um.. hopefully this is enjoyable anyways :''')
#dev replies#ask vany#stranger things#st#eddie munson#eddie munson hc#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem! reader#eddie munson x reader
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A Special Kind of Man
this fic swap is for @safertokiss ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol
A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.
Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.4K
___
I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.
But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.
I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.
Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.
I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.
So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.
“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.
“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.
“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”
“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”
There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.
The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.
“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”
“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”
I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.
Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.
“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”
I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”
“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.
I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.
“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.
I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.
“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”
Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.
“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.
“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.
“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.
I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.
“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.
“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”
“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.
“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.
“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”
I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.
“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.
Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.
“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”
I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.
I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.
“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.
“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.
“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.
“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.
Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.
From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.
“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”
I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”
Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.
I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.
“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.
“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”
“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.
Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.
___
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PRETENDING TO GIVE THE HAIKYUU BOYS HEAD PRANK
MINORS DNI // 18+
DAICHI SAWAMURA
So, you’re in the club room with Daichi just innocently chatting bc the rest of the team is LATE and Daichi showed up on time like the responsible man he is
So you’re just chilling when all of a sudden, you remember that random TikTok you saw like 5 months ago
Smiling shyly, you walk towards Daichi mid-sentence and just...drop to your knees
DAICHI IS SHOOOOK
Has no idea what you’re doing until you look up at him innocently
Daichi knows that look
Daichi fears that look cause that means he’s about to get his soul sucked out of his body
“Y-Y/N? Here, really? Anyone could walk in—” He stutters, eyes wide
“What do you mean Daichi?” You blink innocently, turning your head, “I’m just picking up a volleyball.”
You pick up the stray ball and Daichi just stands there, shellshocked
“What’d you think I was doing?” you ask, right as the other guys burst in
“I—”
“Daichi, y/n!” Hinata runs up to guys, totally oblivious to his captain’s face, “Guess what?!”
“What’s wrong with him?” Suga wonders as Daichi just stands there, frozen in time
You smirk, “Dunno. Guess he’s just excited to blow off some steam today.”
OIKAWA TOORU
You’re bold bold
You’re in the MIDDLE of the library when you decide to tease him, shimmering underneath the table and between his legs
Oikawa feels something poking at him so he looks down, and almost screeches when he sees your head
“Y/N-Chan! What are you doing? We’re in a library oh god—”
As much as he loves the suck™️ now is not the time, he just so happens to spot some of his teammates and panics
“Calm down Tooru,” you giggle, getting back to his level and sitting down. “I was just hiding from some of your fangirls. They have it out for me, you know?”
At first, Oikawa doesn’t respond and honestly you think you broke him for a second
But then, a sly smile grows on his face and he chuckles
“Well played, my sweet dove,” he smirks, shaking his head, “You had me fooled for a moment, I have to admit. But I’m gonna get you back, you know that right?”
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, but Oikawa is giving you that look™️ which means you’re seriously gonna regret this later
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
So you wanna play a funny prank on your boyfriend
Good luck LMAO
Ushi doesn’t even react when you bend towards his crotch, just watches you like 👁👄👁??
You make a move to give him the eyes™️ the ones that let him know he’s about to get that gluck gluck 3000
But he doesn’t,,, do anything??
He’s completely still and then he has the NERVE to call you out
“Y/N what are you doing?” he says so loudly the whole damn cafeteria stares at you 😩😑
You’re like 😐 “Really Ushi?” and get back up embarrassed as hell
Like cut the cameras, deadass
Now he’s really not getting the gluck and he’s so confused when you’re mad later on LMAOO
SUGAWARA KOUSHI
Suga’s been so stressed from practice he doesn’t even mind when you pull him to the club room, just sighing in relief when you drop to your knees
“Finally,” You feel SO BAD when he starts smiling and grabbing at your hair, “You know just what I need, don’t you sweetheart? You’re so attentive— god I love you.”
You wanna back out so bad cause Suga actually really does need a stress reliever but you power through somehow
“Baby what are you talking about I was just gonna tie your shoes,” You tell him and you feel so bad :(
Suga looks so disappointed you’re actually so mad at yourself
“Oh,” He frowns and steps away, “W-Well thanks...”
“Suga, baby—”
Forget those damn shoes, Suga’s getting that neck right there and then cause there’s no way you’re gonna do him dirty like that
Y’all come back like twenty mins later like “Heyyy~” 👀 and everyone just knows cause Suga is absolutely killing it out there and he’s so positive and motivated
Low key Daichi doesn’t mind him being gone for that long he’s like “THANK GOD THANK YOU Y/N,” and now Suga is back thanks to you :)
KAGEYAMA TOBIO
Poor Tobio is sweating
PLS he’s so stressed
You’re in the middle of the gym and you’re?? In front of his dick??
Kags.exe has left the chat
He’s wide eyed, a stuttering mess and you smirk cause it’s working perfectly
“Something wrong Kageyama?” You ask innocently, knowing he’s putty in your hands
“S-Someone...someone’s gonna walk in— Daichi, Suga, Hinata,” He’s rambling cause he doesn’t know what else to do cause you’re getting closer and closer and closer and —
“Well good then, they’ll see how hard you’re working,” You tell him proudly, scooping up the stray volleyball and handing it to him
“I—”
“You didn’t actually think...?” You trail off, knowing damn well he did. “...Kags?”
Congrats you broke him
Now you’re gonna have to explain to Daichi why Suga’s gonna have to set for the day LMAO
YAMAGUCHI TADASHI
Pls don’t do him like that
He’s absolutely gonna FREAK
Dropping his controller in an instant to stare at you with wide eyes
“Y-Y/N?”
Tsukki’s on the other end yelling at him about dying but Tadashi is literally too shook to even care about losing cause HELLO?
His beautiful partner is crouching between his legs giving him a look™️
“Yes baby?” You blink innocently, tilting your head
“W-We’re gonna do that now? Here? Tsukki, he—”
“I knew it!” Tadashi jumps when you suddenly pull a hair tie from the ground, trying to hold in your laugh. “I left my favorite scrunchie here, thanks for keeping it safe Yams! You’re the best!”
You kiss his cheek and Tadashi is stunned
Not only does he have to process that he’s not getting head, he’s also gonna have to deal with the fact that Tsukki is gonna kill him and now he’s hard
“...Yams?” Awe you feel so bad
Please give him the suck he deserves it after Tsukki comes through the screen to choke him out
#daichi sawamura x reader#sawamura daichi#daichi headcanon#daichi x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#oikawa tōru#tooru oikawa#sawamura daichi smut#daichi smut#oikawa smut#tooru oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#wakatoshi smut#wakatoshi ushijima#wakatoshi ushijima x reader#koushi sugawara#sugawara koushi x reader#sugawara koushi#sugawara x reader#koushi sugawara x reader#yamaguchi tadashi#tadashi yamaguchi#yamaguchi x reader#yamaguchi tadashi x reader#tadashi x reader#spicytea.txt
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Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.
Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts.
One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened.
Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.
Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.
First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older. His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.
There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.
This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.
There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.
It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder.
Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.
#behind me dips eternity#god I want to write this but its just not going#Ive been trying for over a month#I cant finish the outline#I've only gotten a paragraph into actually typing#but there are so many vivid images from this fic that live rent free in my head#was lowkey thinking of comissioning an artist to depict Danny bc I've tried and its not coming out right and it drives me INSANE#bc this world is very vivid to me#i love it even if it hurts me#anyway here's wonderwall
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hellooo,, i saw another tiktok video(and since ur like the elite on writing this type of reqs im requesting to you aha) https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJYsk4CY/ for shoto, kaminari and monoma (if u write for him) ty 💕
‘bae lol’
(the greenscreen heart, then kiss tiktok trend)
character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, monoma neito (bnha)
legend : [Y/N = your name] for monoma reader’s a part of class 1-A, they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific
headcanon type : fluff (x reader)
note(s) : oh, i absolutely love AND hate this trend, it’s mostly bc im single though :,) not like i can get a partner in the pandemic. anyways! i love your thinking, anon <3 also no proofread bc its like,, 2am here </3 will edit later!
»»————- ♡ ————-««
todoroki shouto
he’s very aware of your tiktok antics, but out of all of the ones you’ve pulled on him, and asked him to do
he loves this one the most.
because shouto doesn’t have to get the lights scared out of him, and it doesn’t have a chance in ending terribly.
you brisk towards your room, knowing that shouto rests inside— “shou!” you call out to him, and he tilts his head up
“Y/N, tell me it’s not—”
“no, i swear!” you drop next to him on the bed, and you play the video. “this would be fun to do, right?”
he doesn’t say anything at first, but he definitely wants to do it, judging by the fact that he’s replaying the tiktok over and over again.
abruptly standing up, he tugs at your wrist “let’s do it.” he says with determination hinted in his voice
you’d think that he’d get the hang of doing tiktoks because of you but LMAO NO— the greenscreen failed you both multiple times in a span of 40 minutes.
the first take, the heart was blurry, the second take, the kiss was captured seconds before the kiss, and the third take— your phone fell 💀
plus, his movements were a little stiff the first few times, but after the third try— he definitely got the hang of it.
and,, he doesn’t understand tiktok effects, not even the slightest.
on the brighter note, he has more excuses to kiss you so,, it’s a win for him! he won’t get sick of doing any retakes :))
you knew the moment he focused on making the perfect heart, as he firmly pulled you close to kiss you
that, would be the perfect shot there. he almost forgot that there was a camera recording
shouto is seen replaying the filmed tiktok over and over again— and it might’ve looked odd to anyone else
but not to you, definitely. for you, it’s the norm to see him like that.
“do more trends where i could kiss you more.” he pecks you on the lips, before he leaves you be temporarily only to edit the tiktok, ofc
the tiktok itself blows up by a ton, gathering 2M likes, and 5M views, in a surprising amount of time, and you didn’t even notice how he placed his hand on your hip
until the comments pointed it out to him. which shouto replies with “i always do that. you just didn’t seem to notice.” it’s fine bc you do now
the comments consisted of “where can i find a guy like this 💔” “haha that’s so cool *blocks*” “okay but we sEE THOSE HANDS 👀”
nonetheless— please do more trends like that with him. don’t be afraid!
shouto rates the entire ordeal a ♾/10. can and will do it again. oh— and he saves his home and lockscreen as the final outcome from the tiktok. he did a screenshot it, and decides to keep it like that for a very long time
kaminari denki
again— this man is ALWAYS on tiktok, so he’s aware of most of the trends there. but that doesn’t make them any less scarier
but oh wow, he loves this trend. denki was just praying that you’d see it— and ask him to do it with you.
he was grateful that luck was on his side, since he was ecstatic when you skipped over to him— asking him to do a tiktok trend
“oh, what tiktok trend? wait— please tell me it doesn’t involve me breaking up with you for a week so you could listen to drivers licenses—”
“what? no— let me show you” and when you showed him the tiktok, he showed you this cheeky little smirk
“let’s do it! the sooner the better!” he says, and he seems more excited that you 💀
denki’s so enthusiastic, to the point that the first few takes are a total fail— as he makes you fall over your feet, as the result of quickly pulling you onto him for a kiss.
“denki— one of these days, you’re going to shatter my face”
“sorry, sorry!” he grins sheepishly. and it’s a miracle that he didn’t accidentally short circuit!
you guys try again, still persistent in getting at least a decent video, and this time— when he yanked you, causing you almost slip
he tightened his hold on you, a hand pressed against the small of your back and another hand dangerously close to your bank
the kiss is eager, passionate— and he holds you like you’re on the verge of death
and this flusters you because MAMDKWDK what happened to the goofiness 💀 i suppose that’s what happens when you have an eager denki kaminari.
you upload the video, thinking it would only get 5 likes at the very most— but it exceeds your expectations
though most people couldn’t get a clear view of your relationship dynamic with him, denki’s enthusiasm did attract the attention of 2.8M people
and in a good way, because the video did get 800k likes
the comments consisted of “when he caught you when you almost fell :,)” “damn he was EXCITED” “hey, have you told us where you got your boyfriend? i need the link to find someone like him NOW‼️‼️”
the bakusquad fawned over the video weirdly, but it quickly gets overplayed by denki— since that’s all he watched for a week or so 💀
monoma neito
bruh </3 as much as he loves you, you’re going to kill him with pranks one of these days.
he’s totally in on it if HE’S not the one being targeted, but most of the time,, neito’s the subject of your pranks
so he thinks it’s another silly prank, where you make him pick a number between 1-5 and ghost him for that many hours.
but when you show him the video one day, when you guys were chilling in your room— as per usual, he declined :,)
“sorry dear Y/N! but no. that’s my answer”
“but whyyy?? it’s so harmless!”
“the class is going to tease me for being a part with a silly tiktok like that.” and besides,, he’d be a hypocrite for participating in that kind of tiktok with someone from class 1-A.
in reality, he did want to do it. he wasn’t so sure on why he said no— but he does want to show that something so easy isn’t really a bother to him.
“oh- don’t be so sad about it! you know what?” he gently pulls you up, “let’s do it. i don’t care what those silly class 1-A kids will say anymore.”
“what? i thought you said you didn’t want to.”
“have you ever heard of a lie?” he clicks his tongue, but he’s glad that you’re feeling much better than you did 10 seconds ago.
when it comes to it, he’s actually really shy about it. not like a ‘i don’t want to be seen with you!’ more like ‘gosh, how many takes is this going to take? will i be able to kiss them properly?’
“what if i end up accidentally copying their quirk? neito— focus, damnit.” he thinks to himself, brushing the anxious feeling away.
he’s determined enough to stay focused— but man struggled a bit with cooperating with the heart shape.
“neito— not that heart!” “well, you said to make a heart, so i did!”
it takes a few tries for the greenscreen to cooperate, and for you guys to get in sync
and when he finally has to kiss you, he grins at you— a very obvious blush adorning his cheeks, as he smashes his lips with yours
then he remembers that he actually has to break free from you— and forces you guys apart, still trying to play it cool
“wow! i look awesome. only i could kiss you like that, right? i don’t need an answer, because i know it’s true!” he says with that proud laugh of his, but it immediately dissipates after the second replay
neito leaves you be, not only for you to upload the tiktok— but also because he needs to THINK WHAT JUST HAPPENED he’s running laps in his mind rn
you upload the tiktok, not worrying too much about it— as you wanted to let it sit for a while, before checking up on it
however— when you open your phone again, you get bombarded with multiple text messages from kendou, and the other class 1-b students.
“you and monoma went viral!” is what you can sum up about most of the messages, and you have to see for youself— wanting to know if the tiktok really did get 800k likes and 1.9M views in a short amount of time.
spoilers ‼️ — it did
the comments were mostly like “why can i smell the dynamic from a mile away 💔 i want that.” “he’s definitely annoying to everyone but you” “sHEESH the way he smirked before he kissed you 😩✋‼️‼️😔”
monoma flexes on a daily that he did that to your class— but he HATES how class 1-b wrecks havoc on him, by teasing him
in short— he does prefer this more than being scared. and! he didn’t have to verbally ask you for kisses 💀
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha x y/n#bnha fluff#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki imagines#todoroki x y/n#monoma imagines#monoma x reader#monoma neito x reader#monoma x y/n#kaminari denki x reader#kaminari x y/n#kaminari x reader#kaminari imagines#monoma headcanons#todoroki headcanons#kaminari headcanons#todoroki fluff#monoma fluff#kaminari fluff
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𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚! 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 1
𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙢𝙖𝙮 4𝙩𝙝
warnings: mild swearing, mildly suggestive (if you squint lol)
| armin - colt - eren - jean - porco |
armin arlert
• i think most, if not all of us, agree that armin looks like the type to get all flustered with PDA & shy away from his emotions --- HOWEVER.
• rather than being all over you, he finds himself most comfortable with holding your hand or having an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
• he wouldn't mind you being clingy though 👀
• would occasionally place a gentle peck on your forehead, cheeks & his personal favorite; the palm of your hands.
• you guys' dates would mostly end up being in a library, café & restaurants with a nice warm atmosphere.
• i bet he would be the kind of guy to take you to the beach whenever you're stressed out in hopes of calming you down.
• gets very defensive when his friends tease you, if a man could bark his friends away, it's armin arlert.
• this lad over here would establish a routine with you (with your consent & opinions ofc)
• mondays to friday mornings are centered on school, you guys do your own thing at school & walk you home while making sure to stop by a convenience store for snacks, assuming that you guys don't live together yet.
• both of you make it a point to check on one another to make sure you guys aren't wearing yourselves out.
• which leads me to the conclusion that your parents grew very fond of him & treats him more like their child
• when you guys are having a sleepover, this whole lowkey facade of his takes a 180 and the second you reach the bedroom he'll shower you with cuddles and kisses.
• you would watch movies (mostly rom-com just bc armin makes it work okay) tucked in a warm futon with popcorn and candies between you two.
• armin strikes me as a very studious guy and he does this to ensure you guys' future together ^-^
• all in all armin cares about you so much and he doesn't mind being vulnerable to you. he is your safe haven, and so are you to him.
colt grice
• okay can we talk about how this perfect man deserves some more attention
• colt, my man, gives me disney's prince florian vibes. the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, & just an absolute dream.
• he's the kind of guy to take you to the park, a greenhouse, & WORKSHOPS!!!
• given the idea that he is in fact a shy little baby, he is actually pretty active with you. every date you guys have is different. mans has a quest planned out for y'all.
• at school i think that you might be the one to initiate skinship. doesn't have to be kisses on the lips, it's more of gently trailing your index on the back of his hand or rubbing a hand on his forearm when he gets a little anxious.
• the type to peek through your classroom's door because bubba's too shy to ask someone to call for you 🤧
• colt, in my opinion, is very domestic in private, now don't get me wrong he may be a little too shy in public because he isn't used to it but i promise you he takes on the nurturing role of the relationship more than you are.
• he helps you with cleaning, folding your clothes, and god if you guys get periods, he's got a whole pouch in his locker just for you.
• he doesn't do it intentionally, he happens to know you so well that he notices the slight change in your moods & cravings.
• colt often reads a book while you guys cuddle during the afternoons once all the work is done, he'd make you tea or whatever you want. he hums a tune, probably from old disney movies that his brother falco used to enjoy as a kid.
• your parents are more invested in your marriage than you and colt combined.
• okay, now if you happen to have a baby or a toddler somewhere around the house, someone keep this man from turning into a putty.
• as much as colt acts prim and proper most of the time, he has his moments where he just wants to be an entire mess. perhaps sleeping past his usual waking time, indulging in more snacks than usual. you know, loosen up? yeah, that is a side of his that only YOU will ever be allowed to see.
• so yes you and colt would be labeled as the: put-together couple who needs a little bit of adventure every now and then.
eren jaeger
• i hope i don't ramble too long because i love him sm
• mr. loverboy over here is a simp for you, more than you are a simp for him! he is not afraid to show you off and shower you with flattery. now he does this because he feels so lucky to have you.
• he can be a little cliché (well maybe not as much as jean --- more on that later), like he'll randomly interrupt your vacant class with a gift box he put together, & a bouquet. yes. (carla helped him pick out flowers from her shop)
• he's the type to crash his lips with yours in the middle of campus when you achieve something or when he does, vice-versa. if he plays in one of your school's teams, there just HAS to be a bet that if he wins he gets a kiss... or more... or something else.
• dates with eren are usually random than planned. like it pops in his head and he'll inform you right away. he respects your vacancy too of course but if you aren't he might pout just a little bit.
• his ideal dates are prop shop dates, going to hotspots, amusement parks, antique shops! & maybe late night drinks at a quiet bar where you can both enjoy the solace of the atmosphere.
• on special occasions, he does plan ahead. usually it's something on the simpler side. candlelit dinners at home or somewhere you guys both enjoy dining.
• if eren's had a bad day, best believe that he will run to you for comfort. only you can help keep his aggressive response to anger at bay.
• if given the chance he would take you around the world, he's that passionate in making sure you live a little
• hear me out... you and eren would probably have the most philosophical conversations, just laying on your backs beneath his room's skylight? heavenly.
• eren can get a little poetic expressing himself & i believe that it's just wonderful. no one can describe their feelings as good as eren.
• his favorite look of yours is when your eyes beam with excitement, it usually happens when you spot something that you used to enjoy as a kid or when you're concentrating on one of your hobbies.
• he's a very touchy person too, his hands are usually on your stomach/waist, his kisses are random & they linger for awhile.
• when you're asleep next to him, it's his habit to solemnly watch you while his own drowsiness starts to take over.
• eren is passionate & sometimes people might take it the wrong way. one of the reasons eren loves you is because of the way you understand how he is. mutual growth for y'all ♡.
jean kirschtein
• jean is not afraid to pull a live performance for you, you see this man is at the top of the world when he's with you. from 80s hits to recent releases this man will blast his playlists catered for you.
• dates with jean are certainly spent on concerts, (him & eren bond over chase atlantic don't argue with me) music festivals, thrifting & late night drives!!!
• personally, i don't see jean as very gimmicky unless you guys are with his friends, he takes you very seriously and you are his top priority.
• at school i think he's definitely one of those flirtatious boyfriends. the kind who would not miss an opportunity to blow you a kiss or throw you a wink. he can be a bit of a dork, who wouldn't be? if he can get one of your rare smiles 🥺
• jean's the type to ask his pals for help when it comes to styling. not because he dresses badly but he's too focused on getting a flush on your cheeks. he's a hopeless romantic.
• if you guys happen to stay at home, he'll definitely serenade you with the amount of songs he had written recently just for you.
• since he bonds with sasha and connie, his jokes are either dad jokes or something that went viral on tiktok. he's the perfect balance of goofy and mature.
• if you aren't much of an active person he wouldn't mind being lazy with you and insist on a diy spa day at home.
• it's just netflix with a tub of ice cream and face masks on.
• since jean is quite the romantic, he would be into couple outfits or items that aren't cringey obv and probably doesn't mind using your perfume or vice-versa.
• jean probably asked you out during one of his gigs, offering you a single rose afterwards.
• he's the type to leave you random post-it notes if he visits your house. just random phrases or doodles. and boy does he pick you up every single day on his smexy motorcycle.
• he'll bring you coffee and breakfast to-go. this man's spoiling you baby.
• aside from that, i feel like jean would make you hand-made gifts with the help of his momma. he thinks it's sentimental when you make your presents because it's one of a kind.
• jean does all these things because he's 100% about you being a constant person in his life. he loves how he can be whoever he wants when he's around you, i'm certain you guys wouldn't have it any other way either.
porco galliard
• porco can be a dick if he wants to not to you though, this tough guy turns into putty just for you. he definitely loves being treated like a baby.
• at first he might come off as cold because he isn't used to the whole romance thing and he gets flustered with the slightest pecks so you might have to initiate at first.
• but once you guys get through the awkward phase this boy would straight up greet you with a passionate kiss and does not give a damn about everybody who witnessed it. he might even have a stupid smirk on his face.
• like eren, i feel like porco would be very passionate and intense. he doesn't say much but he definitely shows you just how much he adores you.
• speaking of friends (: reiner would tease him every second of the day. i bet he would team up with bertholdt to annoy this poor boy. annie and pieck's not much help either.
•whenever you're stressed, porco would run you a bath and give you massages very often. he'll sit on the edge of the tub while he runs his hand through your hair.
•his type of dates would be watching at a cinema or a drive-in, going to the mall just to look around,he's a simple guy.
•if you guys happen to have an argument, porco would distance himself for a few minutes to a few hours just to process the situation and avoid anything his aggression might cause.
•he knew that if he wanted you guys to work he needed to be better.
•he would come back though and hold you in his arms while you guys talk it out.
•i bet he's one of the aot characters who would be an athlete, so most days you'll end up watching him practice.
•overtime, porco would be more open to being intimate in public and post stories of you two just doing things most couples do.
•he's proud that you're his and he's all yours.
•porco is a great guy and he would do anything just to make you smile.
i hope you guys liked these~! let me know who you guys want to be in the second part. requests are open and as always, stay safe! - 🌸☁️
#aot headcanons#aot x you#armin headcanons#armin arlert fluff#colt headcanons#colt grice fluff#eren headcanons#eren jaeger fluff#jean headcanons#jean kirschtein fluff#porco headcanons#porco galliard fluff#🌸☁️ works
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ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3
anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)
in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3
(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)
--
There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.
It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:
“You could try swimming across the border.”
“I never learned how, man.”
And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”
It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.
Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”
Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.
Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:
“I wanna try something today.”
Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.
Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.
“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.
Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.
“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”
Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.
Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.
Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.
“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”
Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”
And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.
“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”
Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”
Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.
Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.
“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”
Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”
Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.
“You coming?”
Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.
“I don’t know, man.”
Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.
“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.
Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”
Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”
Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.
With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.
“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”
Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.
“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”
Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”
Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.
“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”
They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.
Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.
“Fuck you, Gallagher!”
Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.
Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.
“Truce!”
Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.
“Truce.”
Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”
Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”
Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”
Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”
Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.
“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”
Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”
Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”
Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”
Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.
“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”
Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.
“Little help here, Gallagher?”
Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.
He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.
“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”
Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.
Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”
He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.
“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”
As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.
Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.
And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.
Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.
Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.
And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.
Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing— it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.
It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.
By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.
Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.
They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.
Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.
Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.
Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.
Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.
**
Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.
Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”
Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”
#a fluffy premise AND ian being obsessed with mickey’s neck??#what more could u want#*blows kiss to elias and stella* for u#also yes i did have a word document on my computer titled ‘neck fic’#what about it#ty for the prompt anon this was truly an experience to write#ily<3#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless imagine#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian and mickey#ian x mickey#ixm#gallavich fanfiction#cw choking
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this might be a weird thought but the way jensen performs masculinity (and i KNOW it’s a performance cause like, have you SEEN the mockumentary?) is just.... so inherently queer to me lmao
ok. okokokokokok. you asked for this. i have a LOT of thoughts on this. it’s gonna be under a cut because i’m gonna be annoying and psychoanalyse a celebrity i’ve never met(and hope i never do) but trust and believe when i tell you i know what i’m talking about so
you want my opinion? here goes. there is absolutely no way jensen ackles is straight. i hear you, ‘how do you know that he’s bi? that’s invasive and creepy’ but may i counter that point by saying how do you know he’s straight???? why is the default for everyone heterosexual? that’s a toxic mentality to have; ‘oh you don’t know for sure so just treat him like he’s 100% straight just in case’ like....what? heteronormativity drives me wild i’m sorry
and also, um, just to, um, prove my point that this man is decidedly not straight™(i really don’t want to do this but like it has to be said) we KNOW he’s not straight because his d*ck has spoken for itself around misha, like, four times. I HATE SAYING IT!!!!!!! but, um, straight men don’t get aroused by men. ...do i really need to explain myself further???? that’s what i thought(and don’t give me the ‘it could have been for unrelated reasons’ or ‘that wasn’t a boner!’ crap because um good lord yes it was and misha caused every single one so no it wasn’t a coincidence i’m gonna move on before i collapse into myself like a dying star)
anyway, on to the topic at hand which is jensen and his performative masculinity. and it’s a juicy one.
after the unconscious amount of hours i’ve put into watching and subconsciously judging jackles, i have come to the conclusion that like, 90% of how he presents himself and talks and even moves is an act. it’s a facade. it’s a shield. he is not that person. it actually seems exhausting, because he tries to compose himself in this macho, manly, confident and effortlessly cool way, but he’s not that person he desperately wishes he was and wants to be perceived as. he’s on guard every second, even the slightest tilt of his head is like, pre-meditated in some way? if i’m going FULL body language analyst mode, i’ve noticed he has a certain posture he always shifts himself into, and it’s very ‘pursed lips, stoic faced, gruff voiced, square-shoulder, broad and manly’ but, not to be rude jensen, it kind of reads as a little kid imitating the adults he thinks are cool? oof i am going IN huh(it’s out of love though i promise)
he is trying to be this person at every second:
because that’s who he wishes he was, because that’s how he gets validation from the people around him that he looks up to; straight white guys. but to me, who he presents himself to be at conventions is just as much of a performance as this whole eye of the tiger bit is.
oh i should mention i know his body language isn’t naturally like that because how he naturally carries himself is actually pretty flamboyant? like he seriously must be toning himself down HARD
examples:
there’s no tension in his body here as opposed to the eye of the tiger gif. i’d describe it as...generally loose and free? he’s at ease when he moves like that and you can see it.
oh and dude!!! DUDE!!!! how could i not mention the fucking SPECTACLE that is his voice??? jensen. i watched season one. i know where your voice naturally sits. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE. and there have been so many accounts of fans visiting jensen in his trailer and being surprised that his real voice is two octaves higher. again, his performance of masculinity is all encompassing. he can’t even talk normally because, in his mind, that’s a chink in his armour.
and, like you said, anon, this whole smokes-and-mirrors gong show of ‘i am the cool texan man’ is inherently queer. who are you trying to impress??? guys??? that’s pretty gay dude.(btw: gay[honorary])
i feel like i’ve already read this man for filth but i have to keep going bc i have so much to say
ok next thing i’m gonna talk about is how jensen says one thing but everything else about him tells us the exact opposite. another HUGE element of performative masculinity, ONE THAT DEAN WINCHESTER IS A MASTER OF. have i mentioned how dean and jensen are like mirrors of each other when it comes to their sexuality and queer identity??? because it is fascinating how everything i say about jensen also directly applies to dean.
allow me to introduce the grumpy face™. as in, the face he glues on when he’s enjoying doing something but doesn’t want to let anyone know it. and it’s ALWAYS when he’s doing something that could be seen as unmanly in any way. (and when i say manly i mean the ‘ideal’ version of manhood that doesn’t really exist but that jensen seems to be striving for[and dean too])
prime example is this video he did with daneel. the grumpy face™ doesn’t budge the whole time as he’s like,,,,playing an instrument and acting like he doesn’t want to bc i guess that’s too girly??? but i also find this video fascinating because the joke IN it is kind of that they’re both poking fun at him for being so insecure about playing a freaking flute. because, i mean, he gets into it, but he wants you to think he is not.
also this picture.
what is this. i hate them. jensen is smushing himself into misha’s forehead but noooo his face is telling us ‘i hate this’ because CLEARLY he does. also misha’s so happy ew gross
he does that face in photo ops with misha ALL THE TIME but how many times has he also literally asked the con goers if he can also have those photos on his phone too? because of course he actually loves touching misha and is actually a sentimental fool but he tries so hard to hide it and fails so spectacularly.
oh and this. and of COURSE this. actually let’s talk about the hitch kiss for a hot minute because it’s a perfect example of exactly what i’m talking about
(he is so transparent guys. he tries so hard but he’s so obvious.)
1. misha was never supposed to be onstage with him. so it’s a boldface LIE and OBVIOUS PLOY TO GET MISHA TO KISS HIM when he says ‘they’d like us to make out now’. but of course the way he says it is ‘oh my god can you believe what these crazy panel people are making us do haha but i mean what they say goes amirite’. same energy as ‘oh my god did you just dare us to kiss rn???’ ‘....no i didn’t’ ‘oh my god i can’t believe you’d ask that haha but i can’t say no to a dare lol’ it’s the SAME THING
2. the fact that he was in the worst mood before misha came onstage and FAKE KISSING HIM made him feel...SO?? much better? like not just a little better a lot better like, again, that says a lot, because if they weren’t dating he would not be in a better mood if misha kissed his cheek unprompted. bc that cheek kiss wasn’t a joke it was a genuine sign of affection and AHHHH
3. after the kiss happens. you know, the one that jensen actively leans into and is smiling like an idiot the whole time through and is quite clearly having the time of his life during....he says ‘well, that was uncomfortable’. .......my guy. um. i don’t know how to tell you that i do in fact have eyes and you are NOT pulling the fast one you think you are
like i’m so sorry jensen but i have you pegged. it’s literally no use.
god there’s so many instances of him doing this with misha specifically. the whole ‘ew gross lol’ but then everything about him tells us the exact opposite. like this(i hate this. how dare he say ‘he has though, hasn’t he?’ LIKE THAT?????)
so yeah my point with that is he really wants us to think he is one thing when he is the antithesis of what he’s trying to be. he really likes those things that he talks down about, and everything he’s loudly projecting is all to hide how he really feels. he went to a gay bar with daneel, for crying out loud. he wants to play a role in drag. he’s queer and he likes it. pov: you’re jensen ackles train of thought: ‘ok so i really like this thing that people might make fun of me for or call me gay for liking so if i just say ‘lol as if’ and make a grossed-out face they will be FOOLED. i am a genius. hey misha wanna blow on my ear lol i meAN GROSS EW’
i have two more things i want to talk about when it comes to this topic so PLEASE bear with me anon this is why you took so long to answer clearly lmao
ok so we’re now going to go over my favorite hot take of all time. which is ‘how do we know dean’s performing masculinity? because sam isn’t.’ only replace dean with jensen and sam with jared and oh my god do we ever have a case
jared is as STRAIGHT as they come. he is secure in that knowledge. and that’s why he is perfectly comfortable treating misha like this:
and not try to scream ‘i am not enjoying doing this!!!!!!’ at us. because he doesn’t care what we think of his sexuality like jensen does(because he has nothing to hide whereas jensen DOES)
something i found the other day that no one has brought up but i SCREAMED upon finding it is this one clip THAT I CAN’T FIND OH GOD but i promise i’m not making it up. i can’t believe i can’t find it guys it is gold. i need need NEED to talk about it. and if anyone knows what i’m referencing and can apply links in any way i will love you forever but here’s what happens off the top of my head:
ok so i’m a bit too braindead to explain it perfectly but um basically it’s a j2 panel and someone brings up magic mike and i think jared says ‘yeah i didn’t watch it’ and then jensen says ‘all the way through’. stupid joke. whatever. the joke is that jared is gay for watching magic mike.
and then i literally kid you not. jared gets this like ‘jesus christ ok dude? lol’ look on his face and then goes ‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ and jensen gets a guilty look on his face and walks away. and jared did not say it as a joke. he was being dead pan and earnest. and jensen knew it too, he knew he was projecting. i wish i could show you guys the clip i promise if i ever find it i’ll link it but IS THAT NOT SO DAMNING FOR JENSEN????? like come ON. also proves my point that when you compare how they feel about watching magic mike. jared doesn’t care bc watching it just doesn’t interest him, but he also thinks that just watching it in itself doesn’t make you gay. jensen however.......has a different mindset, clearly.
‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ is actually a great title for my next and FINAL section(we’re almost there folks) which is how jensen projects his insecurites about his own sexuality and relationship with misha onto misha.
i hope by now we’ve all seen this video of jensen impersonating cas. it is a blatant microaggression on his part. and like obviously homophobic. it’s like in his mind if he makes fun of them for being gay it makes them both less gay somehow??? it’s self-deprecation in a way??? let’s just tell it like it is: that impression was just jensen’s overt internalized homophobia rearing it’s ugly head. he does it a LOT too when it comes to misha.
i mean:
and that whole mess where he’s making fun of misha for being a bottom in their panel in 2016? ‘so you’re saying, like with football terms, there’s a handler and there’s a receiver heheheehe’ jensen you’re not exempt from being gay just because you know football terms lmao
oh and his OTHER impression of misha where he mocks him for...bicycling...because it’s not a manly enough sport??? jensen NO ONE else has ever thought this hard in their lives about what constitutes as masculine enough to be a sport before. that’s all you bud. we don’t find those jokes nearly as funny as you do. you are reaching, sir
the good news is that misha thinks it’s hilarious and knows it’s projecting on jensen’s part and will tease him endlessly for it. many stories come to mind, like that one photo op story where they’re literally dressed in rainbow banners and pride stickers but when misha goes to hold his hand jensen said something like ‘no way’ and then misha stepped back, put his hands on his hips and went ‘that’s the part that’s too gay for you???’ and jensen LOST it
or when that whole underwear thing happened(messy messY MESSY BTW) and then a fan asked a question about what dean and cas would do in rome and misha just said ‘when in rome’ and jensen makes a face like ‘are you serious’ and then misha says ‘you can’t look at me like that anymore, because of what you did!!!!!!’
OH and that whole story about when misha suggested they put jensen in the closet for that cat video....yeah um
and then when jensen was asked to do bisexual finger guns for a photo op and the con goer said ‘he looks bisexual here’ and misha literally said ‘oh he definitely looks bisexual here. i would say he’s actually closer to the gay side of the spectrum’ so..um...make with that as you will
OH MY GOD i’m finally done. wow. WOW. that was a lot. i hope i’ve blown your minds. ty anon i really wanted to talk about this and i hope you’re happy with the outcome!!!!!!
#cockles ask#sexuality spec#jensen is bi#anti rps for ts#cockles#liz answers#ok i have to admit it is crazy i have retained all this info#i hope someone appreciates it#my analysis#mine
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Firsts
Characters: Tsukishima Kei X Fem!Reader
Summary: Fate works in mysterious ways to bring people who are destined to be together, to actually be together.
Warnings: Sex!! blow jobs, face riding, virginity loss
Genre: fluff, smut
Word Count: 5k
A/N: Well this started as a drabble request but here I am a week later with a 5k fic about it. Soft tsukki inbound. I hope you enjoy @salty4tsukki bc I def enjoyed writing this.
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Being an only child is not a precursor to being lonely. Memories of family game nights, shared dinners and movies watched filled the air of your house letting you know that you were both never alone and, oh, so loved.
You knew that having as healthy a home environment was unusual and that it was part of the reason that you are so emotionally intelligent. Many of your peers couldn’t stand their parents and found every excuse to avoid being home. Sure, you and your parents had arguments about curfew or the number of texts you sent every month. The last argument happened every time you brought home a grade that was unsatisfactory, which wasn’t often, but consistent enough that it was a recurring problem.
“I’m just tired of them expecting me to be perfect! It’s unreasonable for them to expect perfect grades, being on a starter for the soccer team, and involved in other clubs! I’m only one person.” You ranted to Tsukki, sulking around his room before plopping on his bed, arms covering your sighing face. Tsukki was the only person you came to with family problems because you knew he would understand and not push you. The usually sassy boy always softened these days, knowing that this was the one thing that you couldn’t handle being teased about. Today, he looked at you with soft pity, knowing the amount of work you put towards everything just to be told it’s not enough.
“I could tutor you in English if you want? I know we have our usual pre-exam study sessions, but I really don’t mind making them more regular if you think they would help.” Tsukki might listen to you complain but he still isn’t the best at empathy, rather resorting to problem-solving. He showed his care and compassion to you subtly. Offering his solutions in a way you could make them sound like your own, knowing that provided a semblance of comfort. Allowing you into his room whenever you needed to complain and not questioning your feelings. Always offering you a hoodie or jacket when you were worn out from crying, knowing that the warmth would lull you into a much-needed sleep
You knew he cared about you. Yes, sometimes you over exaggerated your feelings to take advantage of that, but only because you wanted his jacket on your body. The thought that it was his arms rather than just a Tsukki scented cloth surrounding you. Only crying a little harder with the hopes he would offer to have a movie night which always meant cuddles. No, you never faked your feelings to him, not wanting to lie to your best friend and consistent childhood companion, you just embellished them.
Relishing in the fact that for maybe, just ten minutes that Tsukki wasn’t just your best friend, that he grew past friends as he aged, and saw you like more, as his other half. The person he wanted to spend not only his childhood years with but also every single one he still had left.
You aren’t sure when you fell in love with Tsukishima Kei.
It could have been his moment against Shiratorizawa when you saw him truly experience joy for the first time in the sport he spent so much time. It could have been the time he gave you his rain jacket when it was pouring before you walked home, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the downpour, but the barrier being symbolic. It could definitely have been the time you went over to study and you walked in on him singing to himself while studying, the soft tenor notes gracing your ears. You only really remember how his voice made your heart skip a beat, the flush of his ears when he turned around catching your eyes.
All you know is that you were hopelessly in love with the man who had been with you every step, every stumble of your life. The man who towered over you but never made you feel smaller than he, the man that laughed before checking on you when you tripped, but always ensuring you were truly ok.
Watching him grow into his height and his body gaining muscles during highschool was both a blessing and a curse. Your eyes were drawn to his figure, shoulders hunched over on his desk, deltoids peeking out of the sleeves in a way that made you want more. Yes, you loved looking at him but sometimes it plagued you.
Eyes scrunched shut and heavy breathing, all you can think about is what Tsukki might look like under those clothes. It was a curse, lewd thoughts of your best friend being the only way you could get off anymore. That didn’t stop you from plunging two fingers in and out for your dripping cunt edging yourself closer to your release. At the precipice, you pull your fingers out and eagerly circle your clit, the other hand moving from gripping the bedsheets to pulling at and groping your nipples. Tsukki’s name leaves your lips like a fervent prayer as you cum to the thought of him. You never felt worse about yourself than you did at this moment, but somehow you found yourself here regularly.
You didn’t know that at that exact same moment Tsukki was in his room thinking about you. The way your smaller hands would fit around his dick, the hesitation you might experience but be driven forward by lust. The thought of being the first and maybe the only person to touch you always drives him to his release.
He might have fooled around with some girls before, a handjob here and there, amidst a make-out session, but he could never find it in himself to go further. He couldn’t, no, didn’t want to be with anyone else, because he knew that the whole time he would be thinking about you under him.
As you had aged, sleepovers became less frequent but were something the two of you still cherished and actively made time for. Tonight is one such night, having just finished your final midterms and gorging yourself on celebratory ramen from your favorite shop. Tsukki’s parents were out of town for the week, but were used to your presence in the house and didn’t mind you being over.
You being there should have been fine, nothing out of the normal but that's not how fate works.
Once you arrived at his place you both changed into lounge clothes getting ready to binge the latest season of Game of Thrones. You went to the kitchen to grab you both some water, knowing neither of you will want to get up once you start.
Tsukki must have had the same idea because as you rounded the corner of the kitchen, you were met with a brick wall and a frigid wave running through your body. You realized it wasn't through your body when your nipples began to harden, peaking through your now translucent shirt. While you are still shocked at the chill, Tsukki looks down to see what happened. Instead what he sees is you, accidentally exposed, the white shirt clinging to the curve of your body like a second layer of skin.
He knows that if he doesn’t avert his gaze that he won't be able to suppress a rising tent in his pants. Committing the image to memory quickly, he apologizes for being in the way, “Shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Feel free to go grab one of my shirts to change into. I’ll clean the mess up.” With that, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a towel, brushing against your body in the narrow hallway.
You head up to his room and go to his dresser, you’ve watched him put his laundry away before, knowing exactly where he keeps his biggest and most comfortable shirts. You strip off your shirt, skin pebbling at the breeze from his fan. Blushing at the fact you are taking your clothes off in your crush childhood friend room, you strip off your lounge shorts now noticing they also have been soaked.
As you pull his practice jersey on you notice it reaches your midthigh, which causes a brief internal conflict. Should I grab a pair of his shorts even though I know they’ll be too big? This shirt is longer than my shorts were anyways, but it’s not the most decent thing. The deciding factor in opting for no shorts was nothing to do with you, rather with the man waiting patiently downstairs. It had everything to do with the glint of intrigue in Tsukki’s eye you spotted earlier, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, and the burning touch he left on your body as he passed you in the hallway.
Tsukki was not even thinking about what you would look like in his clothes as he had more urgent problems. His cock was achingly hard in his sweatpants, the gray not doing him any favors of hiding how he felt about seeing your body. He was doing everything he could think of to suppress both the thoughts of you and blood rushing downstairs.
After quickly cleaning up the spill, he got situated on the couch with a blanket hoping it would help hide his current problem as he got it under control. Tsukki spent the remaining time of your absence struggling to distract himself, reciting poetry meditating, anything to not think about it, think about you, think about the curve of your che- fuck he was failing.
His eyes shot open at your weight landing next to him on the couch. Subtly looking over your form, that he now has burned into the back of his eyelids, seeing you drowning in his clothes, his volleyball clothes. Wait, is she just wearing my shirt? His gaze lingering on the soft expanse of your thighs, knowing that he should be able to see the hem of your shorts with the way you are sitting. The thought of you in your underwear almost makes him moan, his already hard dick twitching with precum budding at the tip.
You shoot him a smile, apologizing for taking so long and say you're ready to watch if he is. After some time has passed, the air is nipping at on your still slightly wet skin, you scoot closer to Tsukki and get under the blanket with him. The slight abrasion from his sweats on your skin sent electricity tingling throughout your body and unknowingly did the same to him.
Reaching forward to grab a glass of water after a particularly gruesome scene, your phone tumbled out of your lap. Not really thinking you lean forward and grab it, slightly raising your ass into the air to reach the last few inches. You plop back down with a grunt and throw your arms open, hoping Tsukki would know that this is your way of saying you needed to take a break from the show for a bit.
Neither of you expected the moan that escaped his lips as you brushed across his now very obvious erection. Neither of you knew what to do after either, he flushed red with embarrassment and hid his face, you with your arm still where it landed on his thigh, unable to move. “Y/N, can you please move?.” he barely chokes out. The obvious restraint in his voice was a sound you had only previously daydreamed of.
Driven by lust, or excitement, maybe even fear that another opportunity would arise, you do move, but not in the way he had intended. You get up off the couch and he's sure that you are getting ready to leave, disgusted with him, but instead, you settle in on your knees between his thighs. Doey-eyes looking up through your lashes with hesitant excitement. “Ok, I’ve moved, what next?”
Is the one thing he dreamed about is really happening? The actuality of it seems almost incredulous. “Y/N, stop joking, I’m sorry about this. They just kinda, happen sometimes.” He can’t meet your eye because he’s sure he would cum just from the sight of you between his legs.
“If you don't want me here Kei, I’ll move, but I’m serious.” As you say his first name, another moan comes from his throat, spurring you to action. Biting your lip, you move the blanket and hesitantly grasp his erection.
Tsukki is hazy with confusion but simultaneously everything is crystal clear with pleasure, unable to focus on anything due to the duality inside his head. Even if he wanted to tell you to stop, to stop and think, he wouldn’t be able to choke out the words.
He notices you aren’t really moving which is driving him mad until he looks down and sees just how pure you look. “Kei, I don’t-- I don’t really know what to do. Just tell me what you like and I’ll do my best.”
“Princess, are you sure you still want to do this?” as he pulls you up to eye level, cupping your cheeks. Seeing your nod and nervous smile, he leans forward to kiss you.
The chill that had previously permeated your body is replaced with warmth, the feeling of his soft lips moving in time with yours, his gentle but assertive grip on your back acting as heat sources. It’s a comfortable warmth, an invitation into him.
You plan on taking that invitation as he deepens the kiss, one hand in the hair at his nape, the other returning to palm him through his sweats. As he stops your kiss, holding in a groan you take that opportunity to return to your original position in front of him. Waiting patiently, looking up at him for instruction with an absolutely pornographic gaze.
Tsukki thought the image of your chest was the best thing he would ever see, but this takes the cake. Your hands playing with the waistband, with slight hesitation before pulling both his bowers and sweats down with his assistance.
You knew what a dick looked like, but that doesn’t mean you are any less intimidated when one is just a few inches from your face. Long and curved, a prominent vein running up to the head that is flushed red and slick with precum. His hand rests on your head with the other on his thigh. Seeing his excitement on his face gives you enough encouragement to kitten lick his tip two times. “Fuck Y/N, please don’t tease me,” his voice wavering between a moan and a whine, you’ve never heard him sound so dependent, so needy before.
Knowing that you are the one doing this to him gives you the confidence to start taking his dick in your mouth. You pause at the head, moving your tongue around, unsure what feels good until his grip on your head tightens as you rub against the bottom, just before the shaft. “Fuck pretty girl, please move your head down, please I wan--” A groan cuts him off as you follow his command. Slowly starting to bob along a portion of his length, with increasing speed.
“Spit on your hand and stroke the rest, god your mouth is heavenly” after pulling off to follow his command, you finally notice the familiar Tsukki-induced burning in your stomach, but amplified by a hundred when you see his cock twitch as you spit into your hand. He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you positioned your hand under your mouth, whispering uncharacteristically gentle words of praise.
Soft moans fall out of his mouth as you swirl your tongue around his head on every upward movement. Your hand mimicking the speed of your lips, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can. One particular comment of his shoots straight to your core, “Y/N, I never imagined you would make me feel this good.” The implication of him thinking about this, the same way you have, makes you moan around his dick, which in turn elicits a sharp intake from Tsukki.
His grip has been tightening on your head slowly, but all of a sudden he pulls you off. “Don’t wanna cum in your mouth without asking, just hand me a tissue.”
You never imagined Tsukki making the type of sound he did when you artlessly stuttered out “W-Well you have my permission.”
Returning your tongue to his tip, which is now angrily red and coated in both spit and precum, it only takes a few seconds before he bucks into your mouth as he orgasms. His cock reaches further than you expected resulting in you choking as he hits the back of your throat, unintentionally intensifying his orgasm.
He pulls you off of him, grimacing at the cold air hitting his spent dick, bending forward to look you in the eye.. “Pretty girl, I’m so sorry for that last bit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you ok?”
The pressure of his thumb wiping off a few spare tears makes you wonder what his touch would feel like on the rest of your body. As your mind delves into lewd thoughts, you shift your thighs looking for some pleasure, and give him an absentminded “It was fine, unexpected but I wanna make you feel good.”
He carefully sits you in his lap and pulls you into a deep kiss, slow but hungry. He moves down your jaw to your neck before whispering “Well, I guess it’s my turn to return the favor huh.” You bite back your moan, but as he harshly sucks a spot at the base of your neck it slips out. “You don’t have to hide your noises, princess, let me know how good everything feels.”
He runs his hands up and down your sides underneath his shirt before they find your chest. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined these.” You tug your shirt off and do the same to him. Both of you are just marveling at the beauty in front of you with lust.
He makes the first move, gently bringing your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, as his left-hand switches randomly between rubbing along your side and massaging your left boob. The warmth of his tongue flicking against your pebbled bud is miles better than your own fingers, endless breathy moans falling out of your mouth as you find purchase for your hands in his hair.
You must be unconsciously rutting against him because he stops his ministrations and stills your hips with a harsh grip. “Feeling needy now? Let me take care of you.” Tsukki rolls you off of him and you expect him to get on his knees in front of you, making you clench your knees both out of excitement and embarrassment.
So when he lays down on the floor in front of you and shoots you a smug smirk, “Come take a seat,” your jaw drops in shock.
“No, Tsukki, you don't have- What if I don’t taste good, please don’t worry about it-I don't want to suffoc-” excuses and concerns pour out of your mouth but your body betrays you at the thought of him licking your sex.
“Y/N. Get over here. I want to do this and I’ll ensure you enjoy it.” His tone was commanding enough that you moved from the couch to straddling his head without a thought, losing your panties along the way. Your mind is murky with lust and anticipation, thoughts of how many times you’ve imagined his tongue on your clit being the only thing breaking through the fog.
His tongue pierces through the haze as he runs the flat of it along your entire soaked core. Your body wants to pull away from the pressure but buck into the pleasure at the same time but Tsukki makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you are snug against his face.
He repeats the action, trying to coax a moan out of you, adding a little more force each time. It isn’t until the bridge of his nose brushes your clit that you finally let out the noises you’ve held in. “Kei- hi- fuck- higher,” breathy moans coat your words in lust.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” His smug tone would have been annoying except for the fact that he was pressing hesitant licks against your clit eventually circling it with the tip of his tongue. You have no control over the whines you are making, only broken up by saying “yes Kei, yes, fuck” and other words of praise
Knowing how it felt when you moaned around his dick, he tries humming with his lips surrounding your clit and if he wasn’t already hard, he sure is now after the way you lewdly moaned his name and fiercely tugged his hair.
The view of your tits heaving along with your breaths drive him to be a little more aggressive with his tongue, mercilessly switching between toying with your folds to harshly drawing shapes into your clit.
Your cunt is drowning Tsukki in slick, coating his face and chin and he’s never been happier. Sucking your folds and using his tongue to taste all of you. He can't believe that anything has ever tasted better than you do right now.
He can tell by the legs squeezing his head, and the shake of your entire body you are close to your orgasm. Wanting to try something new, he slides his tongue into your hole, causing you to grip his blonde locks so hard, you probably pulled some out.
The wanton moans reverberating through the room are the only encouragement he needs to keep pressing his tongue against your tight walls. Your cunt so desperately wants to be filled its almost sucking his tongue in, but you know that alone won’t be enough to make you cum.
“ ‘m close, fuck. Please my clit, Kei please” The loss of his pressure in your cunt is overridden by the shockwaves of his lips around your clit, paired with him tracing letters and a deep moan from his throat. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. His moan continues as you ride out your high, hips jerking forward at the intensity.
As he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap, “Obviously I didn’t need instructions on how to make you feel good. I’ve thought about this for years.” You aren’t clear-headed enough to slap him like you usually would. All you can think about is the painful tension already building again in your core and his painfully hard dick pressed into your thigh.
You pull him into a kiss that conveys your unspoken words. Full of need and lust and wanting to make up for all of the time you lost. Your lips meet his harshly, like if you stop that it might disappear, afraid to pull back for air.
As he moves to your neck you instinctively rut your hips against him, looking for some form of release. Growling into your ear, “Oh, so one wasn't good enough for you? You want another orgasm?”
“Well, It’s obvious you want another one,” matching his smugness with another roll that causes him to groan.
Before you can recognize it, he's flipped you over on your back and is hovering over you, eyes committing every inch of you to memory, drinking in the sight of your body, pebbled nipples, slick coating your thighs, love marks he's left thus far. It’s almost enough to make him go feral.
Almost.
“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. I really don’t mind.” The concern in his voice is clearly fighting against the lust, just barely winning over his more carnal desires. His answer comes in the form of your hand grabbing his dick and giving it a few soft, needy strokes.
“Please Tsukki, I need you in me. I’ve thought about this for so long, no way am I stopping”
“Alright pretty girl,” and with that he returns to your deep kiss, your lips feeling like a home he never knew he left. He brings his hand down to your core, ghosting his fingers on your lips before teasing one finger in slowly.
You hiss at the pleasure, hands finding stability rooted in his shoulders. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth to help distract you while he rocks it in and out of your pussy. Quickly, he could tell that you were ready for a second and slipped it in, being met with you clawing at his shoulders while letting out a wanton moan.
Tsukki moves to place wet kisses along your neck and down to your chest, sucking every once in a while and then following it with a swipe of his tongue. You miss the pressure on your mouth, but you can feel another orgasm building, and it's getting harder to breathe.
You genuinely do stop breathing when he takes one nipple in his mouth and uses his free hand to start rubbing circles into your clit. Well, if this is the way I die, I don’t really have any complaints. The coil in your stomach is about to snap and the only warning you can get out is slapping his shoulders.
The wave almost knocks you out, back arching off the floor while also trying to get more from the man between your legs. Inserting a third finger stretched you so good, he watches you try to fuck yourself on his hand through the orgasm, greedily wanting more.
“You ready, pretty girl? Ready to take my cock?”
“Shit yes, Kei, please fuck me. I’ve dreamed about cumming on your dick, please please--” you are reduced to babbling pleas when he runs his dick along your slit coating himself in your slick. The jolt of pleasure every time his head hits your already over-stimulated bud edges on pain but you don’t want him to stop.
You see stars and hear symphonies when he thrusts into you. A duet of his staccato grunts and your euphonic moans, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of your pussy as he slides in. After taking a rest for you to adjust to his girth, his pace starts off slow but gradually increasing as you beg him for more.
“Fuck, please, fill me up, god I never thought your cock would feel so good, Fuck”
Your babbling praise is reduced to a high pitched whine when he starts slamming into you harder than before. The heavy slaps of his hips into yours replacing your moans in the melody. You barely process his words as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with no remorse, over and over and over again.
“Did I just hear you say you didn’t think my cock would feel good? Do you want to go back to cumming on your fingers to the thought of me or do you want me to continue stretching your tiny little pussy out?”
Tsukki never minced his words, but the sheer lewdness of them causes heat to rise in your face. “N-no Kei. Please help, shit, me. Wanna cum on your dick so b- so bad.” His answer is to push one of your legs back towards your shoulder, the new position and the curve of his cock has him hitting that spot inside you always struggled to reach.
Every muscle in your body is tensed up, burning from the desire to cum. Shockwaves of pleasure radiating from your pussy reach the tips of your toes and through every hair on your head.
Your walls are clenching around him, wanting him deeper, even though there isn’t really any room left for him. Your body is driven by lust and disregards any pain you should be feeling, rather interpreting it as a different octave of pleasure.
You find your fingers on your chest, groping and tweaking your nipples, knowing that you get even more sensitive when you are ready to orgasm. “Kei, please cum in me, I wanna cum but I wanna, no I need to do it with you,” it sounds more like a moan or a plea than a request, but Tsukki was already struggling to hold back his own orgasm.
He took your lead, moving his mouth down to your chest and rolling your other nipple against his tongue. Simultaneously, he snakes a hand down to your vagina, to the spot you begged him to touch earlier and rubs meticulous circles on your puffy and neglected clit..
Your back arches off the floor at the first touch of your clit, and your cunt clenched around his dick, making it even harder for Tsukki to thrust in and out. Your orgasm is stronger than its ever been, you’re certain you blacked out for a minute, only coming to when you hear a hearty moan from Tsukki and another wave of warmth in your sex, this time coming from him.
His forehead pressed against your chest as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, hand still curling your clit, attempting to extend the euphoria you both feel for as long as he can. Your hands find their way into his hair and you gently tug and scratch his scalp, making him look up at you.
Your face may be covered in tears, and spit but he’s never looked at you with more adoration. You continue to pull him up to your face, placing sweet kisses all over his face as you both ride out the last waves of your high, his dick still inside of you. Wincing as he pulls out to lay down on the floor, he ends up pulling you into an embrace.
You look over to his content face, illuminated by the television, eyes closed with a ghost of a smile dancing over his lips before he murmurs, “I never knew Game of Thrones sex scenes were quite so realistic, but I’m not complaining.”
“God, Tsukki you’re so annoying,” you say trying to shove him off of you with a laugh, but he just holds you tighter.
“I like it better when you call me Kei.”
Tags
@ceo-of-daichi @roandtheroses @sugawara-sweetheart @nonexistent-social-life
#tsukishima#kei tsukishima#tsuki#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x reader#tsukki#tsukki x reader#tsukki x you#tsukki x y/n#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut#kristen writes#soft tsukki#h*rny hours
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Why would you hide the Villain remus and Janus thing in the tags, I'd read the hell outta Hero Virgil turned Villain
you mean this??? shdbic aaa Yeah I want to write it, but i also want to write a lot of things. xD but this is def one of those things i’d love to write a short-ish one-shot about just so I can write it.
can you imagine? Virgil, young and anxious, manifesting powers of the light and dark variety, able to manipulate shadows and summon electricity with such fine precision because he’s spent so long fretting over accidentally hurting someone with it that he refused to even dare try and step into the hero scene until he was 150% certain that he’d trained his powers to disconnect from his emotions so that he’d never have an outburst that could even harmlessly shock or scare someone. He’s so in control over his powers that its to an insane degree just because he wants to make sure he cant hurt anybody on accident.
(complete ramble continued under the cut bc boy howdy this got so long it might as well be its own short one-shot)
And, he’s worked so in depth with his powers because of course he can’t just suppress them!(Suppressing electricity based powers doesn’t get rid of that energy, it just makes that constantly generating energy stay put and build, which makes it even more dangerous when it’s finally released, so suppression is a no go) So of course not only does he work extensively with learning how to control his powers, but also how to healthily use them and expend his energy safely, effectively, and skillfully as he grows into them. Might as well push your limits of learning just how much your power can do if you have to learn how to exist safely around others by controlling it, right?
So, by default, by the time Virgil is both old enough and confident enough in his powers to consentingly apply for registry to the worlds heroes association, he’s both insanely skilled with his powers, and also insanely talented(the equivalent to a child prodigy, not that many people in charge of the worlds hero association believe that, though.). The people who had been interviewing him believed the same, thinking him to be just another super teenager boasting about his skills when they couldn’t even sense his power, thinking that what little power Virgil did have was not even worth bothering to report anything substantial about the interview. That he’d oughta go try the villain’s headquarters, because at least they take in wandering powerless for henchmen all the time.
Virgil, feeling pissed but not quite enraged yet, because what teenager wouldn’t hate it to be so invalidated and demeaned at being out right dismissed as a threat, let alone considered more of an invalid for not having powers, starts to display his power.
First it’s the main interviewer’s phone that they’d been glancing boredly at, drained suddenly of all power. Then it’s the landline of that specific room, then it’s the lamp, the computer suddenly shuts off with zero warning and nothing of it turns on. The lamp in the corner of the room goes dark, bulb by bulb, and the printer in the room dies. Virgil’s eyes are glowing violet but he hasn’t moved any more than the annoyed twitch of an eyelid. the light’s overhead turn off, leaving the lights in the hallway still on, leaving the remaining light in the room coming from the single window in the room and the open doorway.
He reaches up a hand, and snaps once, and shadows swallow up the light over the hallway and the window, acting as a wall from the inside and out.
Now the only light in the room is his glowing eyes.
The second interviewer is struggling to summon fire from her hands to light the room, but it doesn’t work. The energy she’s using to summon the fire is immediately sapped by Virgil’s force, there isn’t even a spark. The first interviewer can feel Virgil’s power now, it’s bright and burning. It’s like he has a core in the middle of his being like a sun’s core because its storing so much power, and the only reason they can see it now is because Virgil’s using his power. He has so much control that even on a nonphysical level it’s nearly tangible, the way that they can see his shadow powers conceal even the existence of his power, now that they know what their looking at.
In mere seconds, this kid has tipped the world on their head and put the fear of god into them, an undetected yet undeniable threat in the making.
They watch his eyes tilt with his head, and the distinct sound of the entire building powering down is unmistakable, shouts of surprise and confusion due to the failure of the buildings many fail-safes failing to trigger. And then, with another snap, all power is restored to normal in the blink of the eye, all machines and lights are functioning perfectly, not an irregular shadow in sight, and all at once Virgil reads as a normal human teenager, not a whiff of power to be sensed. He looks pretty peeved, though.
“Maybe I will try my luck at the Dark Side then, at least they care about the people that look to be taken in. Let me know if you changed your mind, I’d love to have a do-over. With a different set of interviewers, mind you.” before he walks out of the interview room, off to blow off some steam legally and safely.
Imagine his outrage when a week later he’s served a summons to court, deeming him a “Threat to Society” and “better left in jail until the court can be convinced of his good nature” because he’s an “out of control juvenile gifted with an unprecedented amount of power that he couldn’t possibly control without strict legal supervision and interference and cannot be trusted to continue to exist as a normal citizen until the W.H.A deems it safe.”
Faced with possible lifelong inprisonment and zero control over the rest of his life because an association of supers think that they know better and that he’s some stupid teenager that was set loose on the world with means to only cause catastrophe and devastation, or freedom at the hands of some ambiguously grey moral decisions every once in a while and being treated as a normal human being even if he has to be a henchman to another super for a while?
The decision isn’t a hard one to make.
So imagine his surprise when he’s not only accepted into the Dark Side after being respectfully asked to demonstrate the full extent of his power and his control over it, but instead of becoming a villain’s henchmen, he instead gains the full title of Villain(with another Villain(Janus) stepping in to mentor him and show him the ropes of the rules and everything), and even further: Gets his own henchmen assigned to him.
A pair, Patton and Logan.
Patton has a partial shapeshifting ability, but it only really lets him turn into a big frog man, making him perfect for doing any of the main heavy lifting for the team, and also perfect for protecting Logan when under attack. He’s built like a himbo and is absolutely 100% a himbo, heart of gold, super strong, buff dad bod, the whole sha-bang.
Logan has a power that is one part linked with memory, one part linked with technology. His brain can retain information like a computer databank, and he can get any misfunctioning technology to work if he can get his hands on it or a connection to it. He avoids all the quirks that interfere or damage real databanks and technology(like magnets, water, and short-circuiting) and can semi-directly connect with devices he is familiar with, without having to hold/touch/look at one.
All together, they have the beginnings of a well rounded team: the brawns, the brains, and the leader with plans and the power to make it happen. Even before finding out their reasons for coming to the dark side, Virgil becomes ride or die for them. (And honestly, they’re also pretty ride or die for him too, not even starting with the fact that they’re both like 26-27 and Virgil is an 18 year old anxious mess that had to make the decision over being the bad guy or losing any and all autonomy for the foreseeable future, which is gonna fuck up any kid and young adult’s brain. So, lowkey adopt him as a younger sibling even though he’s the boss of them and just barely taller than them.(Virgil is a tol lanky boi, and while Logan, standing at 5′9″, is but an inch shorter than Virgil at the start, Virgil still has growing room and peaks at about 6′4″ by the time hes 22. Patton at his normal height is like 5′6″, but frog man height is like 8′3″)
Oh, and they definitely make the Worlds Hero Association regret not taking Virgil’s existence kindly, Big Time.
#sanders sides#virgil sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#luka writes#luka write this#janus sanders#supervillain vee au#ask to tag
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Movies
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Genre: Pure fluff
Warnings: Grumpy Spence
Challenge: Day 8 - Movies
Quinn Speaks: This is hella late :/ Sorry for the hold up y’all!! My schedule got super busy bc I started peer tutoring this week as well as attending a school conference thingy! My Halloween writing challenge!!
not my gif!
“The weather is too bad to head back tonight,” Hotch told the team as you all let out a collective groan. It was about 4:30 and you all had just wrapped up a case in a small Colorado town.
“We were suppose to start our marathon tonight,” your boyfriend tugged on your sleeve a bit as he talked in a hush tone. It was true, about a week before Halloween you and Spencer would take turns picking out spooky movies to watch.
“I know,” you whispered back, “maybe we can find something on the TV back at the hotel?” He grumbled a bit and placed his head onto your shoulder. You hadn’t seen him this upset about something since some guy had openly flirted with you at a bar before you two had gotten together.
You knew that you had to do something as pretty much everyone on the team had expected to go home and spend time with their loved ones or just relax in general.
“Lets head back to the hotel, yeah?” you said to the team as they nodded and walked over to the black SUVs and piled their bags in the trunks. You hopped in the passengers seat and Derek sat across from you in the drivers seat. Spencer grumbled something about you not wanting to sit next to him as he made his way into the backseat with Penelope.
Morgan started to drive and you pulled out your phone and started to look some things up.
“Whatcha doing there, Princess?” Derek asked as he saw your fingers rapidly typing on your phone.
“Oh nothing,” you spoke with a teasing grin as he chuckled a bit under his breath. Spencer shot you a look in the mirror of the car and you just winked as he grew more curious.
Morgan eventually pulled up to the little in you were staying at and he promptly pulled into a parking spot as Hotch, who was driving the other SUV, did the same. Everyone got out off the car and reluctantly went to go check in again and get room cards once again.
Spencer opened the door to your shared room and dropped his bags down on the floor and face planted into the bed. He groaned loudly and you went over to him and rubbed his back lightly.
“Don’t worry, Doc,” you spoke sweetly, “everything’s gonna work out, yeah?” He just whined at your words, but they were muffled by the mattress. “I gotta step out for a minute okay?”
He didn’t respond.
You let the man to sulk in your shared room as you closed the door and got on the phone with the restaurant. “Hi, yeah I’d like to set a reservation for eight.” You paused a bit as the man on the other end talked. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Another pause. “Yes that’s perfect, thank you so much.”
You sent a text to the group chat you all had saying, ‘be ready in 30!’
Stepping into the room, Spencer was now sitting up right and he looked at you with confusion evident on his face. “What are we doing in 30 minutes?”
“You’ll have to wait and find out, Doc,” you replied as he groaned and you let out a light laugh.
***
You opened the door to the restaurant. It was a small Japanese place that was family owned, in fact you had met the daughter on the case earlier this week. The team stepped into the place and were greeted as you talked for them, “table for Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Right this way,” she said as you all followed. Spencer grasped you hand and you smiled at him lightly. He of course returned the gesture, but you could tell he was still a bit upset.
She gestured for you all to take a seat at the table as the chef prepared to start cooking. It was one of those places with an open grill where they would make the food right in front of you and the team was big enough to get it’s own table.
You all looked at the menu and ordered as the chef in front of you started making some food. You kissed the back of Spencer’s hand sweetly as he blushed at your public display of affection.
“So what was with all the blankets and pillows in the back of the car?” JJ asked as she took a bite of the appetizer in front of her.
Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you smiled. “Well the city is putting something together tonight and I figured we could go tonight if you all were up for it?” They all responded with nods or yes’ and you smiled.
“What are they doing?” Spencer asked you quietly.
“That is part of the surprise, babe,” you smiled as you spoke, “and no I will not tell you because we are dating.” Spencer closed his mouth and pouted a bit as you took the words right out of is mouth.
“Here you are,” the chef said as he gave Spencer his dish and Spencer thanked him. “And for the lady,” you smiled and repeated Spencer’s actions as he moved to give Emily her food.
Everyone ate for a bit and you all shared laughs and smiles. Derek even shared some of his high school stories which always earned wide smiles and aching stomachs from the laughs. JJ jumped in with occasional story about Will and Henry and Hotch did the same with Jack.
Penelope informed you all of the new TV she was binging and even wrote it down on your palm so you could watch it and report back to her. You and Penny had a tendency to share shows so you could gossip about them whenever you weren’t working.
Emily entertained you all with a story about her many times traveling the globe as you and Spencer glanced at each other, both silently agreeing to visit the place Emily talked so highly of.
Everyone’s plates were clear and you all paid for your own food; split bills made no sense in the opinion of the team. By the time you all had cleared out of the restaurant the sun was starting to set as orange and yellow hues filled the sky and a light chill was felt in the air as Spencer unconsciously pulled you under his arm as if it was second nature now.
“Alright, Princess,” Derek said as you climbed in the passengers seat next to him, “where to next?”
“I just put the location in the GPS,” you said glancing down at your phone, making sure the text with the address got delivered to JJ. He nodded at you words and pulled out of the parking lot and started to follow the directions that were spewed from the mouth of the car.
Street lamps up and down the little town as some people walked their dog or ran on the side walk with their ear buds in and surely playing some type of motivational music. Slowly more and more parked cars came into view and Derek whistled from besides you.
“Full house,” he stated as you nodded. Looking to Spencer who was trying to catch a glimpse of what everyone had gathered for.
Derek managed to find a spot and so did Hotch as he parked right across from you. Grabbing the blankets and pillows from the back as well as slipping your hand into Spencer’s. “Can you tell me now?” he asked.
“Just a few more steps and you’ll see for yourself.” As the team followed your steps thy soon saw what you had come for. A big blow up screen was set up as well as vendors for popcorn and candies.
The title card of ‘Coraline’ was on the screen and you saw Spencer’s eye light up as he soon turned to you and placed a kiss on your lips. You gladly indulged in the mans actions and could here Penny and Derek making a commotion as you did so.
He pulled away with a sheepish smile as he never really was one for PDA. “I love you,” he whispered.
“Yeah, yeah,” you murmured back as his smile grew into a wide, lopsided grin at your words. “Come on,” you said as you pulled him as you both jogged a bit to catch up with the team.
Kids were laughing and playing around you as parent watched with careful eyes and full hearts. Spotting some of the officers from the town, you all waved as they did the same back. Laying the blankets down on the grass, you all seemed to have a different idea of how to enjoy the night.
Garcia and Emily going to buy some snacks from the vendors despite the filling dinner they had not even a half and hour ago. Hotch, JJ, and Morgan pulling out their phones to facetime their families and tell them to tune into the same movie their were about watch so it would seem as if they were watching it together. Rossi striking up conversation with people around you as well as wondering around to talk to the officers.
Spencer opened his arms as the both of you laid down on the grass. You kissed him softly as his lips soon moved against yours. After a few pecks you broke apart and cuddled up next to him.
“You’re seriously the best girlfriend ever,” he said in hushed tone.
“I know,” you said with a grin as he laughed a bit. “I hope this make up for missing-”
“This more than makes up for it,” he cut you off, “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, Doc.”
***
Remember to tag your piece ‘QHC2020′ or ‘Q’s Halloween Writing Challenge 2020′ if you are participating in this challenge!
Reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!
#Criminal Minds#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x bau!reader#mgg#mgg imagine#mgg icons#spencer reid icons#QHC2020#Q's Halloween Challenge 2020#emily prentiss#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#spencer reid x oc#matthew gray gubler#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#aaron hotchner#david rossi#mgg x reader
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OOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For the prompts - childhood best friend au bc i’m a sucker for them
- tealbluemagic
ah yikes i had thought and scripted like....two more scenes of them actually growing up (16/20 and 22/26) in my head dialogue and all but suddenly this was 2.3k because once again i was worldbuilding my cares away RIP!! palpatine was supposed to be the evil adviser it was gonna be great sad days.
2. Childhood best friends AU (medieval, fantasy, royalty AU--whichever term conveys the absolute zero amount of fact-checking that I have done)
They meet when Anakin is seven and Obi-Wan eleven.
Anakin’s tutor wants him to write lines. Again. According to the man, his letters do not look kingly enough.
Thank the gods that he set him to work and then left to flirt with the chambermaid. Otherwise, he probably would have had something very mean to say about the lack of kingliness that is required to climb out the window and down the ivy creeping up the castle.
Anakin lands on his feet and looks up in time to see his tutor’s red face in the window. “Prince Anakin!” The man yells, but no one is around to grab at him and he’s a very fast runner, even at the age of seven. He takes off to the gardens, laughing in joy at the freedom of it all.
Through the gardens and at the edge of the grounds are the stables. He’s not allowed to go there yet, because he is so small and the horses so big. It’ll be the last place they’ll check for him.
Anakin bursts through the doors and runs headlong into another boy, knocking him clean off his feet and into a pile of straw.
“Hey!” The boy shouts, shoving Anakin harshly off of him, face turning almost as red as his hair. Anakin blinks stupidly up at him as he rises and puts his hands on hips. “Who do you think you are?”
“I come seeking shelter and refuge as the prince of the kingdom of Tatooine,” Anakin blurts out the phrase he’s been taught to say should he ever find himself in danger in a new land.
Both of the boy’s eyebrows go up, and he looks scared for a second, which Anakin doesn’t understand. He’s much bigger than Anakin is and he’s still standing all angry over him. If anything, Anakin should be the one scared.
“Uh. Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” the boy says, backing away and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Just please don’t tell anyone I shoved you, your um highness. I need this job.”
Anakin lifts his hand so the boy can help him up, but the other boy doesn’t do anything but stare at it with a furrowed brow. “You may help me stand,” Anakin prompts him.
“Shouldn’t be touching no prince,” the boy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “People can get killed for less.”
“Well, I want you to help me,” Anakin says, glaring at the boy who’s being very stubborn and silly right now. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
The boy looks skeptical, but takes his hand in his.
“What’s your name?” He asks him as he brushes off his fine clothes.
Now the boy just looks reluctant, but he must know better than to disobey a command from his sovereign, even when the sovereign in question is a child, because he crosses his arms over his chest and mumbles out, “Obi-Wan, milord.”
“I’m Anakin,” Anakin says, even though the boy probably knows this. It’s still only polite and his mother has always told him that being polite is one of the best things a prince can be.
“Yeah,” the boy says. Maybe his mother had never given him the same lesson. “I have to get back to work now, milord,” he turns before Anakin dismisses him, which is quite unheard of. Maybe Obi-Wan’s never been to court. Judging by the state of his clothes and the dirt on his face and beneath his nails, Anakin decides that’s probably true.
“What are you doing?” Anakin asks curiously, following behind the boy. It’s just he doesn’t meet a lot of boys his age and sure, this boy seems a bit mean and certainly at least a little uncivilized, but he still let Anakin stay.
“Shoveling horse shit,” Obi-Wan says. “Would you like to help?”
Anakin wrinkles his nose. “What’s up there?” he asks, pointing to a ladder as they pass it.
“That’s where we keep the hay. And it’s where I sleep.”
“You sleep here?”
Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, but his cheeks grow a dull sort of red.
Tactfully, Anakin changes the subject. “What else do you do?”
“Feed the horses, brush them, put them out to pasture, call them in, brush them again,” Obi-Wan lists. “When a nobleman wants to ride, I tack up their steed for them.”
A horse blows out a breath, right near Anakin’s face and he flinches, clinging onto the back of Obi-Wan’s shirt automatically. “And they let you?” he asks, trying to sound like he isn’t frightened.
“They don’t have much choice,” Obi-Wan says, smiling a bit as if something is funny. “Bit of a luxury around here, choice is.”
“What happens if they don’t?” Anakin asks, deciding to not let go of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Any proper gentleman or lady would have offered to let him hold their hand by now, but Obi-Wan is rough around the edges. Anakin finds that he doesn’t mind much.
Obi-Wan casts a look at him from the corner of his eye that Anakin doesn’t know how to interpret. “They get whipped.”
Anakin gasps in shock. “That’s so barbaric!”
The other boy snorts and shakes his head, as if Anakin is just too dumb to understand. “What are you doing here, little Prince?” Obi-Wan asks as he finishes dumping a pail of water into a horse’s bucket. “Why're you running?”
“My tutor was being absolutely awful,” Anakin replies with a pout. Obi-Wan hums, grabbing a shovel from where it’s leaned against a wooden door and carrying it to an empty stall. He follows him, wanting a proper response from the other boy. All that writing had been hurting his hand! The tutor is so unfair and mean and evil, and Anakin deserved to be treated with dignity and respect!
He tells all of this to Obi-Wan as he paces in the tight space of the stall, the other boy occasionally making noises to show he’s listening as he goes about his work.
“I don’t know what sort of problem he has with my letters! I know all of them now! Isn’t that enough?” Anakin asks angrily, crossing his arms. He’s tired and wants to sit down, but it smells poorly here. Maybe he can convince Obi-Wan to go to the ponds with him?
But Obi-Wan pauses, leaning against the handle of his shovel to look at Anakin. “You shouldn’t be complainin’ about getting to learn to read and write,” Obi-Wan says and then hastily tacks on, “milord.”
“But I don’t like it, and I shouldn’t have to do things I don’t like,” Anakin protests.
Obi-Wan smiles in a funny way. “You think I like shoveling shit, do you? But someone has to do it.”
“Are you saying that someone has to read and w--”
Obi-Wan interrupts him loudly. No one’s ever really done that before.
“I’m sayin’ that reading and writing is a...a privilege, milord.” He says the word privilege like he hasn’t ever said it before, like someone had said it around him and he’d memorized the sound and played it back in his head every night.
Anakin pouts, and Obi-Wan must see the look on his face because he softens his voice when he speaks again. “There’re...people who would kill for a teacher and they got none. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.”
Anakin crosses his arms. “But you’re not me. And I get to do whatever I want.”
It’s like a wall comes up between them. “That’s a luxury too, milord,” Obi-Wan says, turning away. “Excuse me. I need to work.”
The way he says this makes it clear that he doesn’t want Anakin around him anymore. “Fine!” Anakin snaps, face pulled up into a scowl. He pushes past Obi-Wan as hard as he can, hoping he can make the boy fall again, and leaves the way he’s come.
How dare the little stable boy try to correct Anakin’s behavior, when he’s the one with dirt all over his face!
He storms back to the castle and is in a horrifically terrible mood the entire rest of the night, right up until he goes to bed. Obi-Wan doesn’t know anything about anything, Anakin tries to reassure himself. He should have never met him.
He flips onto his side in bed, scowling even harder when his eyes alight onto the practice papers his tutor had left for him.
In his mind, Obi-Wan’s words repeat even louder. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.
Anakin rolls away until he can stare up at the ceiling.
He’d wanted a friend, but Obi-Wan clearly hadn’t wanted Anakin there at all. He wouldn’t have made a good friend at all. Anakin should just forget him.
But he can’t. He wants Obi-Wan to like him, although he can’t understand why or how to proceed.
He flips back to face the room again, too restless for sleep.
Inspiration strikes quite suddenly, making him sit up in his bed.
There’s one thing he could do that would make Obi-Wan like him. But there’s no time to waste.
He hastily dresses in his discarded clothes from yesterday and grabs two of the books on his desk. There’s a leather satchel hanging from his wardrobe that he’s never used before, but it’s the perfect size now. He slings it over his little shoulders and leaves as quietly as he can.
It’s a dangerous but relatively short journey back to the stables. The gardens look much scarier at night, but Anakin is being so brave about it. He’s on a quest. He clutches his satchel to his chest at every jumping shadow, but he makes it to the stable door and then through it.
The ladder he had pointed out earlier is a few steps into the barn, past two stalls. The horses look much scarier now that he’s here alone; their eyes seem to glow in the dark. He scuttles past them and grabs at the first wooden beam. Obi-Wan. He’s doing this for Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan, who is asleep among the hay, just at the top of the ladder. He’s curled up beneath a couple of blankets. He looks angry even in his sleep.
Anakin crawls forward and shakes him awake.
“Wha--” Obi-Wan jerks up.
Anakin clutches his package to his chest and sits cross-legged in front of him. “It’s me!”
“What?” The other boy asks, rubbing at his eyes. Anakin pouts. Has Obi-Wan really forgotten him in such a short period of time? That’s hardly fair, considering the fact that Anakin has not stopped thinking of him at all.
“It’s Anakin,” he says. “I came back.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, squinting at him in the light of the moon that filters through the single window.
Anakin pouts harder. “I brought my stuff,” he says. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea, not even an hour ago, but in the face of Obi-Wan’s incredulity, Anakin only feels stupid. He pulls out the books anyway. “I thought. Well. That maybe I could teach you.”
Obi-Wan sits up all the way at this and bends forward to study the covers, although Anakin is sure he doesn’t understand the letters written on them. .
“Teach me?” Obi-Wan asks.
Anakin huffs. This is going to become quite a tedious conversation if all Obi-Wan does is repeat fragments of what Anakin says. “To read and to write.”
“Why?” he asks, but different than he had asked before.
He doesn’t think because I want you to like me would satisfy Obi-Wan now, and even Anakin knows it’s a rather weak explanation.
“Because...you want to know,” Anakin settles on saying, “and my mother always says that a king should do what he can to satisfy the desires of the kingdom.”
“Oh well,” Obi-Wan scoffs. “If the Queen says so.”
Anakin withdraws, stung at the other boy’s standoffish attitude. “Never mind,” he mumbles, reaching for the satchel to put away the books. “It was stupid.”
Obi-Wan’s hand flashes out to stop him. “No,” he says. “No, I’m sorry. I. Thank you, milord for this. You don’t know what you’re offering.”
“I’m offering you some lessons,” Anakin responds slowly. Maybe Obi-Wan had missed that part?
In the moonlight, Obi-Wan’s smile breaks across his face like a sunrise. “Of course, milord.”
“Call me Anakin,” Anakin demands. He wants a friend, not someone who will bow to his title or shy away from his crown. He wants an equal, a familiar. He wants Obi-Wan to treat him as if they carried the same amount of dirt and grime on their skin.
“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, like he’s breaking a rule and afraid he’ll get caught. “But….”
“But what?” Anakin asks, scooting closer now that he knows he probably won’t be kicked off the loft to be fed to the horses in the morning.
“Did you bring a light to read by?” Obi-Wan asks, looking around his bare accommodations.
Anakin bites his lip and looks too, but the search is fruitless. “Well,” he says. “No.” The truth is that in the castle there’s always light when he needs light. There are always servants, ready to bustle in and solve his slightest inconvenience. He had never thought of light as a--what had Obi-Wan said earlier? A luxury.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan whispers, tracing the cover of the book with something like longing.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Anakin finds himself promising. “I’ll bring a candle or something. I will. Tomorrow night.”
“Really?” The other boy’s voice seems to get caught in his throat because it comes out sounding much weaker and higher than it ever has.
Anakin nods. He would. He’d come back every night for the rest of his life if it meant Obi-Wan would like him, if it meant they could be friends. “I promise,” he says, reaching out with his smallest finger.
Obi-Wan looks at it for a second before linking their fingers together. “Okay, milord,” he says. “I believe you.”
#the next scene would be anakin at 16 and obi-wan at 20 and anakin would be like hmmm i wanna kiss a pretty lady#and obi-wan is like now now the most important thing is whether or not she wants to kiss YOU#and anakins like?? what do you mean#and obi-wan is like think of it like: what if i wanted to kiss you but you didnt want to kiss me? if i kissed you anyway#you wouldnt like it at all#and anakin is like oh huh yeah um i have never thought about kissing you#but now all i can think about is kissing you#and they're together by the time he turns eighteen#and then when he's twenty-two he tells the evil adviser palpatine that he wont marry the pretty princess from palpatines home country#because his heart belongs to another#and obi-wan is like why the HECk would you do that i told you#from the VERY beginning#that people like me should never touch princes#let alone love them#and obi-wan thinks palpatine will have him killed to further his political power#so he runs away in the dead of night#and anakin is left wondering if obi-wan ever loved him at all actually???#but then obi-wan later catches wind of an assassination attempt scheduled from anakins coronation day#and he rides in to save his prince#idk i had an entire 5 and a half hour work shift to think about this#and then i realized this was supposed to be a drabble#so rip me#asks#tealbluemagic#my fics#obikin#prompt fill
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i don't know if i'm the only one but i've often wondered exactly how hard it was to convince julian mcmahon to stick around for season five. they took his character, a feared powerful half demon and made him into the butt of the joke and the whole joke was basically ha ha look at this lovestruck fool obsessing and suicidal because he's got nothing to live with but can't die. ain't that funny? like how the fuck did the writers sell that to julian is my question
i find the entirety of season five just so goddamn insulting to cole's character. hell the fact that he got possessed by the source and this was treated as him turning evil instead of a shitty situation that got out of hand. like it wasn't bad enough he was villified for something that he wasn't even in control of half the time they couldn't even just vanquish the dude, they dragged it on and ridiculed him. i hate it here
lol. i mean. yeah. i really. like. it's like. like okay we all know cole was a fan favorite right and he & phoebe were really meant to like. be the sex appeal to the show no one else was really filling that role they were charmed's Sexy Couple tm. so like. in a sense i get the notion ab wanting to keep him around. because everyone loves him! he's bad boy! he adds this dangerous edge love balancing on a knife's point stuff like that. so like. that being said. u wanna keep him around. i just like Do Not Get how you opt to keep him around Like That. tbh. as w all things. i am blaming brad kern. i think it all really started to tank s4 (well, with mortal cole, but like) with source cole. that was bad, but i know it was part of the push to have like long form season drama character driven plots conflict between the sisters themselves it just like. sucked ass and balls imo. like i mean the fact they had to do the source as a possession just so they could get demon cole and lover cole,,, i mean it speaks to how stupid it was. the fact that u wanted cole to be a villain So Bad but the only way to do it was like. possession? sign that u should not do that like. like. like. i don't know how we're supposed to feel ab that.
and then. the vanquish. not sticking. i think like. i think they probably had the vague idea that cole having a mortal soul would not be able to be vanquished properly right? like. demons get destroyed into nothingness, but the human part of him lives, so i think they probably knew that was what they were going to do, that's what they sold to jmm and like. we sowed those seeds in the s4 finale w his ghost whispers and materialization. so i think like. they knew they wanted to Not Kill Him because he was such a fan favorite. maybe there was an intention to do a will they won't they variant of phole? and then. of course. there was the whole idea of paige cole, which, as the rumor goes, was meant to kick of in the s5 pilot, but both julian and rose shut it down. but i feel like. assuming that's true (which i 100% do assume that's true absolutely and i'm not endorsing it i don't think it would have been good or well written or whatever but like. 👀. you know?) but yeah. assuming that's true, i feel like that piece really speaks to what their designs for cole were: man meat. he was meant to be their male sex appeal and they weren't going to be picky about the narrative itself as long as he was still kicking.
but like honestly? i mean i shouldn't have to say this it's a given: it's not enough to just put your sexy man in front of a camera and call it a day like imo even a man who is not sexy can be made appealing through the power of the narrative. like, to level with you, i never really ever shipped phole nor found cole attractive at all like ever, but i can see like the fucking support beams you know i can see the infrastructure on which this whole thing can you know take on a life of its own in the earlier seasons because they very consciously put it there!! people shipped it for a reason n not just because they were two people standing next to each other on a tv screen i mean hello almost sinking a dagger in her heart but can't do it sends her away back to her sisters because he can't act out on his evil plan!! that's something!!!! that's so very something and they gave us Nothing they gave us nothing in the later seasons. and still expected it to fly. like. tbh julian was probably just like unwittingly duped like dragged along for the ride s5 which is likely why he was vanquished halfway through because i'd imagine roughly three episode in he went okay! um. what's this? guys? what's this? and then they said cole<3 you know he like knew he had to get the hell outta dodge.
anyways. if i were to resuscitate phole in s5. which like. to level w u. i wouldn’t. because they would need a lot of one-on-one screentime and we already spent so much of s4 splitting up the sisterhood in the name of phole i wouldn’t really want to continue with that per se But. if i were. this ask is getting long it’s under a cut
something something demon of the week something something realms the point is cole is there when he very much shouldn’t be and like. he and phoebe get knocked into a different plane. so their bodies are fine and at the manor, but their minds are elsewhere and they need to solve whatever it is in order to get back. and we’ll say there’s a fuckin deadline because the girls need the power of three and right now they are sealed off from accessing it. and you know phoebe’s pretty fuckin pissed with cole because you know. he dragged her down to hell and she almost gave birth to the antichrist. actually source’s heir might be fun to keep around in this au idk. the point is phoebe’s pissed at cole and cole’s pissed at phoebe because phoebe’s pissed at him but he literally didn’t have control over himself in that era and he’s not getting the space he needs to justify himself because phoebe keeps stepping over him. but they gotta work together to get out of here. and were kinda doing enemies to lover 2.0 but like now they have History. of course we’ve gotta do a moment where cole has idk done something normal and phoebe’s so riled up that she does something rash and almost dies cole saves her like catches her bridal style or something faces inches apart breathing heavy and there’s a moment. like a we’re back in early s4 moment. which phoebe immediately breaks from and like walls going flying up but just for a moment there we see it it’s obvious: she’s still in love with cole. which then segues into an argument because like. cole wasn’t sure. right? he wasn’t sure if phoebe now just genuinely hated him. but now he knows right he knows better now so why are you acting like this? why are you taking every opportunity to shut me down to shut me out? why are you acting like you hate me when you know that’s not true right that whole thing to phoebe who gets the Classic because i do hate you. i hate you for what you did to me for what you did to my family and i hate you because i loved you so much and you destroyed me and i hate you because no matter how hard i try that love is still there and i know that for a second if i stop hating you i’m going to love you just like before and you can destroy me again and i hate myself because i’d let you because i love you. you know? big speech. big reveal. i have No Idea what piper and paige are up to right now. the point is. after this big confession we get the lull the cards are on the table what the fuck do we do now which is when cole Finally gets to opportunity to say he was actually possessed by the source and manipulated by the seer and the only thing that kept him holding on was his love for her and after she became queen of hell after he saw what the source had done to her he knew it had to end he doesn’t hold it against her for vanquishing him right this is where we exonerate all wrongs we’re just saying anything bad that has happened ever? scrub it. it’s the source’s fault. cole has no resentment against phoebe. he loves her a healthy, normal, non-possessive amount, so much so He Loves Her So Much he let her kill him and like honestly would probably do it again. idk and then they make out or something. and then they’re out of whatever plane they were in by the end of the episode. And Then we get a buddy cop episode with paige and cole where they bond and also sort through everything that happened there. slowly but surely. and then we do a real phole wedding a super small affair in the manor lowkey bc i hated their wedding episode it blowed we give them a good one. wallah <3
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