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roosterforme · 8 months ago

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The Younger Kind Part 55 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that is accompanying his special mission, but he has reached the point where the excitement doesn't outweigh his desire to return home. Every day feels the same for you, until one of them starts to feel much worse.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, potential pregnancy complications, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Every day was the same now. Every morning started out with a hopeful feeling in your chest. Your engagement ring was still noticeable on your finger, although you figured that would fade with time as it became a permanent fixture. At first, you woke up to the delicious feeling of being pregnant and engaged to Bradley, but when you rolled over to reach for him, the rest of the bed was cold. The covers were untouched. His pillow was still in the exact same place you left it when you made the bed yesterday.

Tears stung at your eyes. You knew exactly how many days he had been gone, because the updated number was practically all you could think about. The days had become a week. Then two. And now that hopeful feeling was starting to vanish only to be replaced by dread almost immediately after you cracked your eyes open.

You whispered, "I miss you," and climbed out of bed without even looking at the vacant side now. You started to dress in your scrubs without a smile on your face, and then you went into the bathroom which was completely silent. You thought that if you just had an inkling, the barest idea of when Bradley might be returning, you'd feel much better, but you had no clue.

You and Noah had only had one brief conversation with him over the phone. The connection had been pretty bad, and you knew someone was sitting right there with him monitoring every single word. He'd told you that much before his personal phone had been taken away from him the day he arrived. You had to pause as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush, because the tears were going to start if you didn't get yourself under control.

Bradley had hung up a few post-it notes around the house for you and Noah to find. Most of them were reminders of how much he loved you, but the one on the bathroom mirror took your breath away every time you saw it. It said April 25th with a heart around it. And above that'd, he'd drawn a crown. The fact that you had no idea how much of your pregnancy he was going to miss threw you off every single time. You ran your fingers over the note, but you didn't move it.

"Mommy?" Noah called out, and you heard him jump down from his bed. It was so obvious how much he missed his dad; he was extra clingy with you right now, even shedding a few tears now when you tried to drop him off before you went to work each day.

"I'm in the bathroom," you called out as best you could with your toothbrush still in your mouth. You opened the door so he could come in with you, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your thigh.

"Is it daycare today?"

You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth. "Yes, Sweet Noah. You have daycare today."

"I want to go to the park with you and Daddy."

That sounded so perfect, you wanted to scream. "As soon as Daddy comes home, we can all spend a whole day at the park. But not today." You didn't even want to tell him that you had to work an extra hour and a half and as a result would be picking him up later than usual. You agreed to cover some extra shifts all week long even though you were tired enough that you'd been passing out in bed right after Noah went to sleep each night.

When he sniffed and looked up at you with watery eyes, you could barely handle it. Bradley had been gone for less than three weeks, but you were already getting a little desperate. You knew you would feel like a failure if you reached out for help at this point, even though Natasha and Penny had both been texting with you to check in. Bradley even had Tracy emailing you in case you needed anything, and you couldn't decide whether you had to make more friends to get him off your back or simply be appreciative that he cared enough to set things up.

"I know," you whispered to Noah, running your fingers through his soft curls. "But we can make ants on logs later. And we can take Skittles for a nice walk." When you said her name, the pup appeared in the bathroom doorway, her brown eyes also a little sad without her favorite person at home.

"I'm hungry," Noah murmured against your scrub pants. You bent to scoop him up into your arms and carried him to the kitchen where you got breakfast ready for everyone. It was going to be a long day for you, and you'd been so wrapped up in your feelings, you almost forgot you were going to have to see Casey.

You groaned at the thought of her, and you immediately lost your appetite and scraped your eggs into the dish on the floor for Skittles to enjoy. After you packed yourself a lunch and got Noah ready, you realized you were kind of running late. Everything felt ten times harder when you had to do it all yourself.

"I don't know how Bradley managed," you whispered as you zipped down the block in your car. A soft smile played at your lips as you thought back to how adorably hopeless he had been when you first met him. He hadn't eaten a good meal in probably months before you started babysitting Noah for him. At least he could cook a little bit now, even if he still couldn't figure out how to use his phone.

When you took Noah inside his daycare, Casey's eyes were immediately glued to your ring as it shone in the sunlight. She slid the clipboard to you and watched you sign Noah in while you held his hand. Then you knelt down and kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll pick you up later. I love you."

He smiled, and then you let Casey walk him inside. You stood there long enough to make sure he started to hang up his bag like you always did, and when she walked back out into the lobby, she was smirking. "Did Bradley leave you? He hasn't been here in weeks."

You rolled your eyes as you said, "He's deployed. We've been over this before."

She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it kind of looks like he left you and Noah in the dust."

"In what world would that man leave Noah?" you practically shouted.

"That's true," she replied with a smile. "Bradley would never leave his adorable son, but I could see him ditching you and your make believe baby."

You rubbed your temples and took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. You'd barely make it to work before the first patient if you didn't leave right now, but you couldn't help yourself. "I'm done, Casey. I've had enough. Which of the owners is here today? Because I'm not going to listen to you talk to me like this for one more minute."

Her face went ghostly white and she muttered something that you couldn't quite make out. "Speak up," you snapped. "Or apologize to me and don't bother talking to me again unless it's completely necessary."

"Sorry."

"Great," you told her loudly. "Have a great day, and when I pick Noah up later, just keep your mouth shut."

You took in the stupid looking expression on her face before you turned to leave, storming out the door and across the parking lot to your car.

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

It didn't take Bradley long to get used to the sleek controls and seductive design of the sixth-generation fighter jet that everyone appropriately referred to as Shadowhawk. By the second morning on base in Yokosuka, Admiral Palmer was singing Bradley's praises. He showed up early and did as he was told, hoping to spend as much time in the air as he could each day.

It was an adrenaline rush every single time. He was going substantially faster than he ever did in a Super Hornet, and all of his readouts were being recorded. He had to pass a quick physical and stress test every morning before he was allowed to fly, and then he was hooked up to monitoring equipment and let loose. He and Shadowhawk were flying the same loop far out over the pacific ocean at insanely high altitudes, and each time he fell a little bit more in love with being in the air. He could maneuver through rolls and dive into an attack formation faster than he could even imagine.

When he was flying, it was easy enough to focus on the task at hand. He knew if he wasn't one hundred percent focused, it would be dangerous. He might not snuff out the launched missile in time with his flares or his guns. He might lose sight of his targets. But as soon as he had any sort of mental reprieve, he was thinking about you and Noah and Skittles and his bungalow tucked away on a side street in Coronado.

"Fuck," he muttered as he unloaded from Shadowhawk one day just as the sun was setting. He was drenched in sweat and exhausted, and all he could think about was taking a shower with you before dragging himself off to his king size bed that always smelled like wildflowers and falling asleep in your arms. He let the peripheral staff detach all of the cables and heart monitor from his flight suit before he found an officer who spoke English. "Is there time for me to make a phone call tonight?" he asked.

It was about three o'clock in the morning in California, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk to Noah, but he was dying to hear your voice. He knew he'd wake you up, but the ache was so strong, he absolutely needed to if he could. He'd been allowed to make exactly one call so far, and that was already more than two weeks ago.

All he got in response to his question was a quick shake of his head. "Tomorrow," she responded. That's what they told him every day. The lack of communication felt like a prison sentence at times, but there wasn't much he could do but accept it. All of the data they were collecting as well as Shadowhawk itself were considered proprietary and top secret. He practically had to sign his life away every day before he was allowed to touch the thing.

"Tomorrow," he repeated. "But will it actually be tomorrow? Or does that mean a week from now?"

"Tomorrow," she said more firmly, and he thanked her quietly before heading up to the tower to debrief with the admirals. There wasn't much else he could do.

The next day was a lot more of the same, and the routine was starting to grate on his nerves now. The aircraft still felt incredible, beyond his wildest dreams. He was still happy to be here, but at the same time, he was ready to go home now. They weren't giving him any updates on the progress of this assignment or when it might end, so he just decided to approach Admiral Palmer directly.

"Sir, I'd really appreciate a ten minute phone call, if that can be arranged." Once again, it was the middle of the night for you, but Bradley needed it.

The older man eyed him closely and cleared his throat. "It's a liability, Lieutenant. I'm sure you can understand that."

Bradley felt his fingers flex into fists at his sides. "Sir, someone would be monitoring me the entire time. And I'm just asking to talk to my fiancée and my son. That's it. Any time of any day."

The answer of, "There's no guarantee," did not sit well with Bradley. He had to bite his lip until he was tasting blood to keep himself from talking out of order, but he was sure the other man could read the frustration on his face and in his posture. "Maybe a very brief call, but we could be wrapping up our preliminary testing on Shadowhawk any day now. Either way, I'm sure you'll be able to finish out this temporary assignment like a professional."

Bradley swallowed down every retort that came to his mind, saluted Admiral Palmer, and left for his tiny room in the barracks. But another week passed, and Bradley knew there was no end in sight. And perhaps no phone call either.

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

"Is this normal though?" you asked Natasha over the phone one night after Noah was in bed. You'd thought about taking a long bath, but you were so tired from working late almost every day, you could barely hold yourself up. You were already in bed at 8:45 with your phone pressed to your ear. "I haven't heard from Bradley in almost a month."

The words made a lump form in your throat. It was actually twenty-two and a half days since he'd called. You needed to hear his voice. Noah was asking for him nonstop, and he had missed your most recent checkup with your obstetrician. The whole thing had been such a blur during your lunch break without him there, and you wanted to show him the new ultrasounds.

"Well, I don't think this assignment is exactly normal, you know?" she replied. "On a regular deployment, you'd be able to talk to him almost weekly. But this is something else altogether."

You made a soft sound. There had to be a way to make the time pass faster. If you didn't have to get Noah by six o'clock every day, you would try to pick up more hours at work. Maybe this weekend you could start cleaning up the extra bedroom that you and Bradley decided would become the nursery. You already promised Noah that you'd take him shopping for a Halloween costume, so at least that would entertain him for a little while.

"Thanks, Natasha," you murmured to Bradley's best friend.

"Hey, if you need a little break this weekend, I'd be more than happy to come over and play with Noah on Saturday or Sunday," she said, and you sighed in relief.

"That actually sounds fantastic. I'll call you."

You ended the call a minute later, curling up in a ball of exhaustion as you tried to imagine where Bradley was and what he was doing. You were tired now as you tried to do the math to determine what time it was in Japan. Was he sixteen hours ahead of you? Something like that? You yawned and fell asleep with your phone on the pillow next to your head.

Then you heard your ringtone blaring in your ear, and you almost fell out of the bed as you realized your phone was so close to you. RESTRICTED CALLER. "Oh my god," you gasped, trying to answer the call while you saw that your battery was down to four percent because you never plugged it in. "Bradley?!"

"Princess."

"Bradley!" You climbed out of bed, your body immediately shivering as you were exposed to the cool air. Your nerves were frayed as you plugged your phone in and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Baby. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay!" you said, your voice sounding more like a sob as you sat on the floor. "I've been so worried about you."

His voice was a deep, familiar rumble as he said, "I've got five minutes. Tell me everything."

"We miss you, Daddy," you said, rubbing your hand low on your belly which was starting to feel a little tender as you got closer to thirteen weeks along. "Noah asks for you all the time. The baby looked good at the last appointment. But your best friend, Skittles, is barely holding it together."

"I missed your appointment," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I should have been there."

"It's okay," you whispered. "We're doing okay." But you weren't. You and Noah thrived when you had his attention. You felt loved when he was home to hold you and whisper plans about the future until you fell asleep each night. "I just thought you'd be able to call more often."

"Me too," he said in a tone that sounded both annoyed and resigned.

"Do you know when you'll be home?" you asked in as hopeful a voice as you could manage.

"Soon, Princess. Soon. Now tell me everything about your appointment."

You gave him more details as you shifted around on the floor, and you told him that Noah painted a picture for him. Then you heard someone on his end of the call telling him that it was time to go, and you wanted to scream that it wasn't enough. But instead you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thankful that you at least knew he was safe.

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you too, Princess. I'll be home before you know it."

You dried your tears and climbed back into bed, and even though you weren't able to fall asleep again, you felt so much better. Your imagination drifted to thoughts of the baby in the nursery, all of you curled up on the floor for story time together. You would start getting the room ready this weekend.

On Saturday, you took Noah to the Halloween warehouse store that seemed to pop up overnight. "You have to hold my hand," you reminded him as he reached for every single display in the crowded store. There were so many aisles, this would probably take up your entire morning with him. He was keeping a running list of options that he liked for trick-or-treating, and you had to keep reminding yourself not to check the price tags. You'd put whatever he wanted on your princess credit card and call it a day.

"Mommy, let's all be dinosaurs," he said, pointing to a costume in his size.

You glanced around the area and said, "They don't have any in my size. Can we pick something else?"

"I want you and Daddy to dress up, too," he whined, and you didn't want to have to tell him that you weren't sure if Bradley would be home in the next week and a half to accommodate that wish.

"Well, I will definitely dress up with you, okay? Let's pick something out where you and I can match."

But he wasn't going to be deterred. He was demanding that all three of you match along with Skittles. You walked around the entire store twice before you found an option that he agreed upon, and you were smiling as you gathered the costumes in all of the necessary sizes. "This is perfect, Sweet Noah," you said as you looked at the costume for Bradley and laughed. You just hoped he would be back in time to wear it. If not, maybe you could ask Maverick.

The sky was starting to look overcast, so you took Noah home for lunch and didn't feel too bad about keeping him inside for the afternoon, especially when it started raining. You set him up with his array of coloring books at the kitchen table and then went to investigate the extra bedroom. Nobody ever slept in there, so it was a bit dusty. There was basically no furniture besides the bed and an old desk, but it was cozy and perfect for what you had planned.

Your muscles were sore from standing at work, and you were so tired, but you started moving the bed anyway. You'd have to tell Dr. Kelly and the others that you were pregnant soon. It was time now, but you kept putting it off, enjoying the secret that only you and Bradley really knew about. Plus it still got under your skin a little bit when you considered that other people would have a knee jerk reaction to the timeframe of when you got engaged compared to when you got pregnant.

"It's none of their business," you whispered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen to check on Noah every few minutes. Then you went back to the bedroom and cleaned, moved things around and took measurements. "How big are cribs, anyway?" you mused before looking up some dimensions online. "Pretty big."

It took some creativity, but you thought you'd finally sorted out where everything should go. Then you moved Bradley's random junk from the closet to the attic, wiping the sweat from your face with each trip. You kicked your way through the boxes where you'd found the USB drive with the video he made with Meredith. At first you grimaced and thought you might cry, but then you remembered the way he had smashed the stupid thing to bits in the backyard. You wanted him to come home. You needed him to.

"Mommy?" Noah called out, luring you back into the kitchen. You were a mess, and when you noticed how much he was yawning, you silently rejoiced.

"It looks like you could use a nap," you said as you kissed the curls on top of his head. He scrambled up into your arms and hugged you, such a tiny reminder of his dad, and you carried him off to his room. After a few stories, he was asleep as the rain picked up a little bit, and you knew this would be the perfect time to take a shower.

You moved Skittles' bed into Noah's room temporarily, and coaxed her in with a treat. "Keep him company in case he wakes up," you whispered, and she walked around in a circle on the plush cushion before settling in. Her crooked, purple bow made you smile. Everything in this house made you smile and think about Bradley. You knew he'd have even more ideas about a theme for the nursery, but you started to scroll through some inspiration online as the shower warmed up for you.

The water ended up feeling better than you anticipated. Your shoulders were sore. Your hips were sore. Every part of your body was aching. It seemed it didn't matter how much you were sleeping, you were still exhausted all day long. Maybe Dr. Kelly would reduce your hours and give you a break. You thought about sneaking home one afternoon a week to take a long nap before going back out to pick Noah up. Then you thought about how Casey hadn't said a single word to you since you told her you were going to her boss. Then you smiled.

You were squeaky clean when you got dressed again in some old sweats and headed to the kitchen. Your stomach was growling, and you desperately wanted some coffee. "One cup is okay," you whispered, turning on Bradley's fancy machine while you made yourself a snack. You'd been meticulous about how much caffeine you were drinking, and Bradley helped by bringing home only decaf from the coffee shop. You downed the cup, and it was hot and delicious, and almost immediately you had to pee again.

Your doctor told you that was normal as the baby grew and started to stretch things out. You passed Noah's bedroom door where both he and Skittles were still sound asleep as the rain splattered against his window, and then you went to the bathroom. When you wiped, the toilet paper caught your eye, and your hand started to shake. Pink. Blood. Just a little bit, but there was blood.

"Oh no," you gasped, a dizzy spell overtaking your body. You'd read about this in your textbooks, and you knew it could happen, but you'd blocked it out of your mind when it came to yourself right now. You didn't want to be an example. You had to grip the toilet seat with one hand to keep steady as you wiped yourself again. There was more blood, a little bit less pink and more red this time.

Your own breathing was too loud. It was echoing through your mind and through the bathroom, and you wanted to throw up. You eased yourself onto the floor and started to panic. The baby. What if something was happening to the baby? "No," you whispered, trying to ground yourself. Using the edge of the tub, you pulled yourself slowly to your feet, your head spinning more with every inch you moved. "No," you said louder.

When you were standing on your own, you had yourself almost convinced you'd imagined it. You didn't feel bad. You were just a little sore. There couldn't be anything wrong. You reached for another piece of toilet paper and wiped, but the result was the same.

Where was your phone? Who were you supposed to call? You walked around in circles around the house while your heart thudded a sickening rhythm in your chest. You paused, unable to locate your phone and convinced you were going to throw up. After you backtracked to the extra bedroom, you found it and unlocked it.

Natasha's name was right there in your recent calls, and you tapped on it before you could even fathom what you were going to tell her.

"Hi," she said brightly when she eventually answered. "Want me to come over and play with Noah so you can take a break for a little bit?"

"Please," you gasped. "Please come over. Right now."

She must have sensed something in your voice, because hers turned serious as she assured you she was on her way. While you waited for her, you wiped yourself again and again before you made yourself wait in the living room instead of the bathroom. When she walked inside with dripping wet hair and concern on her face, you said, "Noah is still napping. I need to take myself to the emergency room."

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Get to the hospital, Princess. This kind of scenario is very real and has happened to me. I will tread as carefully as I can. Please don't scream at me. We will hear from a doctor in the next chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 56

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@mygyn

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leahssmile · 21 days ago

Text

— just focus on me

pairing: lia walti x reader

summary: reader is anxious about filming a video for Arsenal, luckily your girlfriend is there to help!

notes: short wally fic, sorry if this one's a little choppy and for the awkward ending, it was written in between flares up over a few days! ♡

nevertheless I hope it's enjoyed and thank you to everyone who's interacted with my blog so far, I hope to get more writngs out for ya'll and maybe take requests soon! :)

You dreaded media day.

Not because of the busy schedule or constant moving like most people, no, you hated the cameras themselves.

Ever since you were a little kid you’ve been camera shy. Your mother often joked that she had no clear photos or videos of you, but you just couldn't help it.

The thought of being in front of a camera made your already bad anxiety spike, of messing up and it being forever captured made you almost feel sick.

It's not like you had stage fright or anything, you could get on a field in front of a crowd of thousands and play fine, it was just the cameras that made you feel bad.

At least with interviews before and after games you could wiggle your way out of them, convince a teammate that they had more to say and would be better to talk to.

But media day was mandatory for everyone, including you.

Today you had managed to participate in the required photos, done with plenty of teammates around to focus on instead of the anxiety growing in you.

But after a quick lunch break you’d been cornered by one of the media people, asked to join in on one of the silly game videos to post on the team's social media, and not really given any option besides yes.

It was just a quick trivia video, questions about who had played in however many games, who had the most goals, nothing series.

And yet as you hover a few feet from the media people as they set up the cameras, you feel the anxiety start to gnaw at your insides.

The unfounded fear of forgetting every fact about your teammates, or even more unlikely, insulting one of them by forgetting the exact number of caps they had, making you squirm as you wait for you to be called over.

You tuck yourself into a chair out of the way, too busy trying to calm yourself to notice your girlfriend, Lia, approach you. “How's it going?”

You jump when she speaks, quickly turning to look up at her, offering a badly concealed nervous grin. “Great! Just waiting to film a quick video.”

Lia knows you well enough to know that something’s bothering you, and a glance from the cameras being set up to your bouncing knee tells her what she needs to know.

Your aversion to cameras has been well known to the Swiss footballer even before you two had started dating, but she never judged you for it, it was just a part of you and she had always tried her best to comfort and reassure you the best she could.

This time isn't any different, and she takes a seat beside you, reaching over to take one of your fidgeting hands.

“What kind of video?” She knows the best way to calm you is to ask simple questions, they usually redirect your train of thought from your worry.

“Um. A trivia one? Like, ‘who has played for Arsenal the longest’ and stuff like that.” Lia nods, “You're very attentive, I think you'll do great.” She offers softly.

It's true, your attentiveness is the thing that leads to your anxiety, noticing the small details, the blinking lights, the shifts of people's expressions, they all get to your head.

But you suppose it is also helpful for the video ahead of you. Now that you think of it, you do know quite a lot about your teammates.

You let out a soft breath, “Yeah. But the cameras…” You trail, and Lia takes a moment to look around.

Her own schedule was pretty much over, having taken most of her videos and pictures earlier in the day, and she'd really just been wandering around talking to her other teammates for a bit.

She was all for staying to make you comfortable. “Look, I'll be right behind the camera, just focus on me, okay?” She points to a spot far enough to not bother any of the media people, but close enough to stay in your eyesight.

You ponder the offer briefly before finally nodding, if anything could ease your anxiety it was Lia.

“Okay, I'll give it a try.” You say and she smiles, leaning over to hug you and press a quick kiss to your cheek. “You got this.” She reminds you as you stand, the media people having turned to wait for you to come join them.

You position yourself in front of the camera, following the directions of the media person as your eyes wander over her shoulders, looking for Lia.

Your eyes finally find hers, and she offers reassuring thumbs up and a smile that you return before taking a breath and turning to the camera, giving a nod to the media person as she holds up the first card with a question written across it.

#☀️ — andys writing #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #lia walti #woso blurbs #lia walti fanfic #woso fanfics

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pomefioredove · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

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lucysarah-c · 6 months ago

Text

Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you�� you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

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uyai1101-lads · 2 months ago

Text

Dark Xavier Emerges.

MDNI, 🔞 18+ explicit nsfw content ahead. MDNI 🔞

Tags:

Light Fear play

Instant regret

Breeding kink (with no consequences)

General Yandere behavior

Light sadism

Aftercare

Hand necklace

You’re a ragdoll.

Xavier x fem reader

Play this to hear what music I listened to while writing this. Really put me in the writing mood.⤵️

Writer note: I haven’t written any fanfic in forever so please bear with me if the story feels weird. I tried y’all😭. I’ll probably do some art soon for this and put it up on a Patreon I’ll create soon where I can comfortably post more explicit art. Please feel free to share your thoughts IF you’re 18+ on this.

“How much did you buy?” Xavier demands in shock and annoyance, his sapphire eyes slowly narrowing to slits.

Amused and intrigued by this side of Xavier you’ve only managed to see once in a while, you smile inside secretly. Your plan to see how much of his dark side you could provoke to come out was slowly working. Yes you knew it was toxic and manipulative on your end to stoke his ire but Gods did it get you hot and bothered when the light in his eyes dimmed and his voice grew firm, husky, Dangerous. You wanted to know what that was like when he focused that dark side of his, in bed, on YOU.

You playfully shove at his unyielding hard chest caging you in on the single sofa he had moments ago cornered you to.

“Move! We can’t keep the delivery guy waiting” you whine with a soft laugh, your eyes soaking in his annoyed but still so handsome face.

“Nope” came the firm reply and an even firmer hand sliding up yours on his chest to grip and slowly bring it back down between the two of you.

“ I won’t let you go, until I hear the answer I want” the cold firm tone was said in a deep husky voice. The usually soft innocent expression of his was now gone and replaced with a cool almost predatory one. His already dark sapphire eyes almost black and now hooded, soft locks of his greyish hair falling into them.

Fuck… you thought eagerly. Here he was, Dark Xavier, this side of him you affectionately nicknamed.

You could feel your lower belly clench in pleasure, your pussy was damn near throbbing already.

A loud pounding at the door causes both of you to jump, Xavier startles and glances over at the door with a fierce scowl. He was distracted enough that you managed to wrench your hand out of his now loose grip and push him softly but quickly out of the way as you made a hasty escape from his cage and towards the door.

“Cominggg! Hold on I’m coming sir!”

If you had glanced behind you, you would have noticed Xavier’s lips raise in an unnatural smile as he watched your enthusiastic figure race to the door. coming? calling another man sir and yelling about coming? he thought, his mind warping your words, you wouldn’t be doing that this evening unless you BEGGED and gave him the exact answer he needed to hear.

After getting your package of more Lumiere merchandise and food ordered, your next plan was getting Xavier’s reluctant help in setting up the Lumiere toys and cardboard cutout in your room, you positioned the cutout directly by your bed earning yourself and the innnocent cutout a heavy dark stare.

Uh ohhhhh, you thought with an inner snicker. He was slowly losing it, you could feel the heavy aura in the bedroom. Now was the time to coax him to bed and show your “appreciation” for his help these past few days. Truthfully your injuries had healed well and you would’ve gone back to work but Xavier definitely wouldn’t have approved. Plus he seemed to really enjoy personally taking care of you.

You slowly strip out of the pajama bottoms and flannel top you had on, revealing the cute red lacy underwear set you had bought just for tonight.

Unfortunately the lacy panty was half drenched with your arousal but the sharp intake of breath you heard from Xavier seated on your bed made it worth keeping it on. You could feel that possessive almost hungry stare slowly sliding up your body and back down leaving you jittery and achy with anticipation.

To add more fuel to the fire you had cultivated all these few days, you pick up the handsome Lumiere ball joint doll you had managed to snag online before it sold out from your vanity and give it a quick sweet kiss on its resin cheek. “Goodnight my handsome Lumiere” you coo at it.

A sudden low snarl from the bed almost makes you drop the doll to the hardwood floor in shock, you whip your head so fast to catch Xavier’s angered face you almost give yourself a crick in the neck. You slowly place the ball joint doll back on your vanity.

Now your heart is pounding because Xavier’s off the bed now, slowly walking towards you. His expression twisted into a faint calm smile but the energy he’s giving off is anything but calm.

“X-Xavier?” You half ask half whisper. Taking an involuntary step away from his slowly advancing figure. All of a sudden the room feels too small and not enough room to escape.

Xavier lets out a soft flat chuckle, he watches you with those deep unwavering sapphire eyes of his but…his smile feels wrong, almost mocking and…cruel.

“Ahh so you do remember my name after all, Star” the deep flat voice sends alarming goosebumps down your skin. You’re caught off guard by the sudden temperature drop in the room and the sudden feeling of intimidation. You shuffle back another step almost reaching your bathroom door, your heart is racing, you feel that confusing mixture of sudden fear but titillation dampening your lacy panty. Your legs are shaking as you stare at that predatory animal gait still approaching you.

This was what you wanted but maybe just maybe, you had pushed him too far? You’re all of a sudden not sure how far Xavier might go with you tonight.

“Star? Why are you backing away from me?” Xavier asks softly with faint audible amusement, his expression still the flat calm.

Heart thudding out of your chest, you immediately turn to the bathroom door intending to dart inside and slam it shut to at least get a few seconds to shake off the chill you’re feeling and calm down.

A large palm shoots out right past your ear and slams the door you just managed to open, violently shut.

Legs almost giving out beneath you, you shakily turn and find yourself staring up at the dark blown out pupils staring blankly down at you.

“X-Xavier plea-“

All of a sudden you’re picked up and thrown over his shoulder, your world is upside down, head facing down at his bottom and legs while your ass is up in the air. Did he just? Manhandle you?!

As if he heard your stunned inner dialogue, A hard sting on your almost bare ass sends a shocking burn that wrings a startled squeal out of you.

XAVIER?!

Just

SPANKED ME?!

you’re too speechless to even try and protest before you find yourself sailing through to the bed and damn near bouncing off of it. But he’s there, palm pushing you back down hard.

You stare up at him, mouth dropped open in a breathless wheeze of near terror. Somehow your confused horny pussy thinks it’s go time and throbs with a need to be filled by this unhinged man giving you the same amused twisted smile.

Without hesitation a large hand sensually wraps around your throat and drags you up firmly to demanding lips.

Xavier’s kiss is domineering, possessive and utterly overwhelming. His soft lips draw out moans from you quickly enough but before you can actually start reciprocating, he sinks his teeth to your bottom lips causing you to draw back with a sudden wince. You’re wide eyed, disbelief written plainly on your face. Gentle soft Xavier has definitely left the building. In front of you is exactly the man you were hoping for.

“Since my little Star thinks I’m harsh and cruel” Xavier’s other free hand strokes down from your heaving chest, stopping briefly to squeeze dark hard nipples, this illicits a slightly pained but aroused whimper out of your lips. He answers that with a groan of pleasure, hooded sapphire eyes soaking up your half scared half aroused expression.

“I do love that look on your face Star, but I want you needy and whimpering on my dick, mind blank while I breed you in front of HIM” Xavier directs his cruel gaze at the cutout Lumiere board by the bed, beautiful face twisting again.

“let’s see if Lumiere can save you then? Hmm?” He looks back down at you, beneath long pale lashes the cruel gaze softens to something eager but perverse.

“Wait, Xavier, surely you know Lumiere-“ you can barely finish your sentence before he pulls you like a ragdoll and positions you on your stomach. While you don’t hate this, your heart is still thudding in your chest at how quickly “Dark Xavier” showed up and how intense this actually was. Much more intense than you imagined in fact. You didn’t know Xavier actually had it in him to be rough like this and actually have a breeding kink to boot or even say dirty stuff in bed so effortlessly?!

" My sweet little star, you shouldn't have said that name again" he slides both hands up your back and down, hands squeezing your plump ass and massaging deeply, causing you to moan helplessly.

"I was going to show some mercy tonight and let you come after all but now-" a hard smack lands on your left butt cheek causing you to jump and attempt to wriggle away but his firm hands holds you down and steady. He rubs over the stinging ass cheek soothingly, a whisper of Soft Xavier appearing again.

You could swear there's a sweet smile on his lips as he says "but now I have to keep being harsh and cruel"

Xavier positioned you directly in front of the Lumiere cutout board, it seems very intentionally.

So this would be a ravaging, claiming in front of his alter ego Lumiere. Still moving you around like a ragdoll, both hands on your hips pull your ass up so you're in a collapsed doggy position. You tense as his hands slide down from your ass to your soaked lacy panty.

Another sharp intake of breath from him as his fingers slip past the fabric and press right against your swollen clit. "Ohhhh you're sopping wet princess" his voice is back to a low breathy moan.

"So you do like me being harsh and cruel after all? Hmm?" Firm fingers rub your clit slowly, causing you to whimper and moan into the pillow. A finger slides lower, slipping into your pussy easily, another finger joins in, then another, all knuckles deep as he massages the spot he recently discovered drove you wild since you two started sleeping together two weeks ago.

You try to hide your moans as your mouth falls open and you rock back against the thick digits fucking you.

Gods Xavier knew just how to finger you and have your mind grow fuzzy. You feel that rush of an orgasm approaching and fuck you're almost there. You rock back against his scissoring fingers harder, panting, limbs trembling, eyes squeezing shut as you cream all over his hand. "Almost there", you choke out through gritted teeth.

"Oh? did I say you could cum Star?" Xavier's cold harsh voice by your ear and his swift withdrawal of his perfect fingers splashes cold water over the impending bliss.

"N-no p-please I was almost there!" you cry out in dazed confusion. Your pussy clenches on air, you're left trembling and suddenly anger rushes through you, fogging your brain, causing your mouth to say the worst thing ever. You sit up on your knees and glare frostily at the still gently smiling Xavier next to you on the bed.

" Lumiere would've let me come" you snark, victoriously waiting to see the anger on his face.

The room suddenly grows heavy in pressure and drops in temperature again. The still gentle smile is there on Xavier's soft lips, but it feels...condescending now.

"Lumiere... would make you cum? Is that so Princess?" Xavier asks gently in that low sensual voice of his, one eyebrow arched in mock surprise, a little chuckle follows the question.

You stare up at his sharp sapphire eyes and you feel that you made a deep mistake. Xavier's PISSED. Damn it! You curse your sharp reckless mouth and shuffle away from him in bed, attempting yet again to escape the consequences of your action.

You barely make it across the bed before Xavier has you pinned down beneath him swiftly, his firm hands clamping yours down over your head, you struggle beneath him, heart racing, attempting to buck him off of you, but he's immovable, straddling you. He'd always been very strong for someone that didn't have bulging muscles and didn't seem fond of working out.

You feel that difference in physical strength now and while its overwhelming, you find that this...is actually turning you on.

Then you feel it, the heavy bulge through his thin grey sweatpants pressing against your groin, Xavier is raging hard and excited, there's a feverish look in his dark eyes now. His smile is smug, satisfied. "You're not going anywhere Star" he leans down over you to whisper, warm lips brushing over the shell of your ear, the soft warm tip of his tongue trails up your ear and you whimper because that's one of your weak spots, your ears are particularly sensitive.

"W-wait Xavier, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that!, I’m so sorry!" You moan out, attempting to move your overstimulated ear away from his sensual touch. But he's relentless, applying the right amount of lips and tongue and now teeth as he bites your ear lobe.

You cry out, racked by a tingly orgasm that takes you suddenly. It's almost embarrassing that you're coming just from this alone.

Xavier pulls away with a smirk to admire his handiwork, eyes drinking in your shivering panting form beneath him.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have, but you did" he let's go of one of your wrists to slide his hand down to your breasts that have fallen out of the flimsy lace bra that covered it moments ago.

He tugs on your tits, twisting one nipple gently and another harshly, wringing out pleading whimpers from your lips.

He lets go and reaches down to pull out his hard throbbing dick free from its confines. The head is a ruddy broad mushroom tip slick and drooling with precum, surprisingly thick and long for someone that doesn't look like he should have such a thing attached to him.

You stare up at his lovely face tinged with red, greyish hair hanging over eyes hooded with deep arousal and his pink lips parted as he strokes his fat dick over you. The sound of his hand stroking that beautiful cock has you squirming underneath him, Gods you want it stretching your wet little pussy so bad right now.

"Xavier please, please fuck me" you beg shamelessly, eyes glued to his hand wrapped around that fat weeping dick. He let's go of your other wrist to slide the sopping wet lace panty to the side, adjusting his position so the head of his dick slides up through your folds to your throbbing clit, he teases you like this while you whine and attempt to move your hips so he can slip inside. He glares at you narrowing his eyes in disapproval.

A hard hand wraps around your throat again, not hard enough to stop you breathing but enough to warn you he needs you to behave.

"You'll take whatever I give you right Star?" He asks with that twisted cruel smile back on his innocent face.

You nod desperately, at this point you'd agree to anything so long as you got his dick in you.

"There's a good girl, remember you said yes, Star"

Without hesitation he spears through your little wet hole with his dick and you both groan at the sensation. You almost arch off the bed as you gasp for air at the sudden fullness. His dick is almost too much, too full and too deep already.

Xavier lets out a deep shuddering breath, his eyes are feverish and there's an unstable look to it now.

"Since you want to cum so badly, I'll fulfill your wishes" he murmurs almost to himself, he draws out his dick through your tight grip and snaps his hip forward harshly, jolting you up the bed, you shriek as he finds that pleasurable spot inside you and presses in on it relentlessly.

The sound of flesh against flesh and hard panting fills the room. Your eyes glaze over as Xavier fucks you damn near through the bed. You feel an orgasm fast approaching and you start begging "please let me come Xavierrr please please!"

He lets out a hard short laugh, his hooded eyes glued to his cock plunging in and out of your tight wet pussy that won't let him go, his hand not wrapped around your throat whips out a vibrating bullet from Gods only knew where, pressing it against your slick swollen clit. There’s almost a sadistic light in his eyes now as he turns up the power.

a hard shudder runs through you as you try to squirm away not expecting that kind of stimulation, but he's already on you, holding you down with his body, the bright light in his eyes feverish as he watches you break down into a screaming overstimulated mess on his thick ravaging dick.

"Can Lumiere fuck you into this brainless mess Princess?" He whispers over you, gaze now hard and heavy on your slack face.

You're shaking as another orgasm accompanies the first one.

A soft slap on your clit sends you over the edge to something so intense you actually...Squirt. The orgasm is white and blinding, you don't realize you're screaming until a hand is clamped over your mouth hard.

" I don't want to hear you scream 'Gods' unless it's my name instead" Xavier sneers down at your face. He is relentless, still fucking you through this orgasm, setting an almost punishing pace, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly as you weakly attempt to buck him off of you. You didn’t know having an orgasm could be so unbearable. You crave it and fear it at the same time. Was this really Xavier dominating you so thoroughly?

"Fuck, your pussy is so greedy, Star, it doesn't want to let go, do you love my dick that much princess?" A ragged gasp greets your ears.

You can barely form a thought in your head, you feel like you’re floating out of your body, your mind is full of static and fuzzy. Xavier let's out another amused scoff down over you before shifting you closer to the Lumiere cutout board again.

This time he pulls up your legs, pressing it to your chest arranging you in an instense position that has his dick impossibly deeper. You faintly realize it's a mating press and a deep shiver runs through you. He was really planning on taking you like this, in front of his alter ego?! Dominating you completely like this?

"My little Star just tightened up? You really want me breeding you in front of your precious Lumiere?" Another condescending chuckle greets your ears.

His face is now closer to yours, his hand moves from your neck to your jaw.

"Open up your mouth and stick out your tongue princess, let's french kiss" he whispers, a command he expects you to follow while gazing down at you as his dick starts slowly pounding through your slick achy little pussy.

This position has you breathless and mind still fuzzy. You can only mindlessly obey him, sticking out your tongue as he leans over to suck it into his hot mouth, kissing you hungrily almost sucking up all the air in your lungs.

Xavier’s dick picks up speed, fucking into you animalistically, without mercy.

He pants, pulling away to bite the side of your neck, it’s sends a pleasurable shiver through you.

" Fuck I want to fill you up with my cum Star, gonna give you a creampie" he grunts, breathing harsher as he nears his own orgasm. Sapphire eyes screwed shut.

Your pussy grips him hard, a tight wet muscle massaging his dick mindlessly ravaging you almost instinctually.

"Your greedy pussy loves me doesn't it? You're trying to milk me already princess, such a sweet girl,"

You're creaming on his cock and start trying to squirm away, you feel another orgasm coming, this one threatens to cause a black out and you're instinctively terrified.

"Please I can't take it, it's too much" you blubber out shaking underneath him.

" You can take it Star and you will, relax I'll get you through it, just be good and take all I give you, there’s a good girl. Just like that" Xavier grunts out, hips still pistoning faster. Dick pounding into your cunt.

" Now tell me who do you prefer? Me or Lumiere? Who's breeding this perfect -grunt- pussy right now?"

You're shaking underneath him, weak, barely able to hang on as Xavier takes you hard, deep and rough in the mating press, his determination to own you almost terrifying.

"Answer me or you won't come for a long time Star" the steel is back in his voice again, hand back on your throat, not too hard but a domineering pressure and presence.

"Y-you Xavierrr, YOUU!!" you scream out and the orgasm hits the both of you at the same time.

You black out momentarily like you knew you would, head blank.

An animal like growl comes through Xavier as his dick shoots out ropes and ropes of his thick creamy cum deep into your womb. Your slut pussy mindlessly milks his still hard cock for more.

"Hahhh fucckkk good girl, your pussy is still gulping down my cum, my sweet Star is so perfect, you want more cum don't you princess?”, Xavier whispers into your ear, tongue licking away the salty tears slipping down your cheeks.

Your dazed fucked out face is still so arousing to Xavier and his dick refuses to go down. So he moves your limp body, belly down and mounts you, dick back in you, plugging up the cum that still seeps out anyway. It's another mating press. He really doesn't plan on showing you any mercy tonight.

You slowly come to with Xavier moaning and murmuring sweet words into your ears, dick still buried in your cunt. He's moving slowly now, deep slow fucking that has your breath quickening as Xavier uses your pussy without any signs of stopping, fucking you senseless.

" My sweet little Star feels too good, your pussy is so honest, it wants more doesn't it? You want my cum don't you princess? I'll fill you up soon enough,the only man allowed in here is me. That grip, such a greedy little hole, Star, just for me isn't it?" He pants, eyes glazed over as he ruts into you.

He picks up speed, hand now gripping your hair, pulling your head up off the pillow.

"Answer me, Just. For. Me. Isn't it?" Each word followed by a deep pounding that has you trying to run from his dick. You feel too good, too overstimulated, you don't think you can take another orgasm, it might just kill you.

"Yes Xavier, YES!!" You sob out, clawing at the rumpled bedsheets desperately. "Please I can't take another orgasm! Please no more, I can't do it!" You plead for mercy, tears in your eyes as you look back at Xavier pitifully, whimpering.

Something in him snaps some more, that brainless/fucked out look on your face, the whimpering, the tears and the begging as if he's your whole world tips him to a sudden orgasm that has him rutting his dick in you harder like an animal, he cums so hard it's almost painful for him.

The thick ropes of cum is milked out of him as you tighten your inner muscles causing him to double over and roar his release.

He collapses over you, a panting satisfied mess. Trying his best not to suffocate you, he rolls over to his side pulling you into his chest and cuddles you, soothing you, stroking a soft comforting hand down your soft silky skin. He showers you with soft placating kisses. It seems he accomplished his goal of teaching you a lesson.

You feel Xavier get up to go to the bathroom but you don't move your head to check, you're so exhausted you start sinking into deep sleep.

Xavier comes back with a warm damp washcloth and cleans you up, cuddles you again and rubs your back, whispering sweet praises into your neck. His hard glare at the Lumiere cutout board almost burns a hole through it in the dark bedroom.

You wake up mid afternoon to find Xavier staring at you with a loving look in his now actually calm soft sapphire eyes, he's sitting by the love seat sofa by your bed, flipping through a book he had been reading this past week.

You almost feel like everything that happened last night was a dream, but your achy body tells you it definitely wasn't, you might not be able to walk straight anytime soon it seems.

"You're up Star, umm I got some takeout I can warm up for you" Xavier gets up and approaches you, sitting on the bed and pulling off your head scarf he seemed to have put on you when you fell asleep, he caresses your soft cheek lovingly . Soft sweet Xavier is back, his voice is back to being lighter and carefree, eyes drinking you in possessively and sweetly.

“Ummm, did I scare you last night? Was I too rough on you?” Xavier worriedly asks, scratching at the back of his neck, smile sheepish.

“N-no. I actually enjoyed that Xavier, truly. I just didn’t think you’d be so…kinky” you mutter, feeling your face grow hot at his knowing smile. You look away, glad he can’t see your blush so easily. But your cute physical reactions are telling. He leans over to capture your face and kiss your cheeks and throat sweetly. “you’re so cute my star” he murmurs into your skin.

You sigh and collapse back against the pillow, you’re hungry as hell and still tired, you're gonna be in bed for a bit longer. You remind yourself that maybe trying to bring out Dark Xavier often isn't a good idea, maybe once in a while, last night was hot as hell, you've never cum so hard in your life and been scared to orgasm again. It’s just…you have a feeling you’d probably be orgasmed to near death if you kept provoking that side of him again too soon.

"I love you Xavier" you say smiling sweetly at him. You mean it and you want to reassure him he’s the only man for you.

His already sweet puppy like eyes soften impossibly, "I love you too Star"

"You really are the most jealous man I know Xavier," you muse with a faint giggle.

Almost immediately something dark passes through Xavier's sweet eyes.

Uh Ohhhh…

"You...know other men?" He inquires, voice tense and now low but he still maintains his smile.

You roll your eyes up at the ceiling and sigh. Gods help you.

End.

Writer note: Welp here was the brainrot in my head for Dark Xavier. I’m still figuring out how to write this ml X You content. I don’t know if I’ll do these kind of writing again or stick to using my specific MC.

#yandere #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #18+ mdni #black mc #xavier x you #lads smut #lads mc #lads x you #xavier x mc #yandere lads #yandere xavier #lnds xavier #lnds smut

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chaos-in-deepspace · 4 months ago

Text

L&DS Xavier: Bunny Tears | 18+

So anyway Kirakanjo posted another piece of art with Xavier in it and I went absolutely FERAL once more. So not only did I write a Xavier pegging fic again...I edited it. Y'all I put effort into my writing which never freaking happens. Them images be doing something to me and I need to write it.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Blow jobs, hand jobs, men crying, submissive Xavier, pegging, cum eating ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Xavier has once again managed to almost burn down the kitchen, leading the two of you to be covered in ash. A small suggestion to shower together leads to a little bit more...but really who's surprised by this turn of events? ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Bunny Tears

You looked over at Xavier from behind the couch, your entire body a little tense. He had insisted he was going to cook, something that made you nervous and on edge. The man had gotten a little bit better after your mission when he was masquerading as the perfect house husband, but you were still weary about it; your eyes never left his figure as he hummed. It was only when he opened the oven that you felt your stomach drop.

“Xavier?” your voice was hesitant as you looked over at him. The man turned, his fluffy hair catching the sunlight and creating a halo effect around him. For a moment he seemed like a true angel…which at times he was. In this exact moment though he was closer to a devil who was about to lay ruin to his own domain.

“Yes?” he seemed so calm, so gentle as he looked over at you. Those pretty blue eyes shining in the light and you almost felt bad for not trusting him with the simple appliance.

“How about I go ahead and do that part,” you were already standing up when his voice stopped you.

“Don’t worry, I made sure to read the instruction manual on this oven. I have it all covered, you just sit back and relax,” he assured you, but his words refused to calm your nerves, “Dinner will be ready soon.” he promised.

You reluctantly sat back down, but your eyes never left his figure. He went back to humming some tune you didn’t know, placing the tray inside the oven and closing it up before hitting a few buttons. From your angle you couldn’t see what was on the tray, nor the buttons he selected. You could only hope things went smoothly.

It took about ten minutes before your fears were realized. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see it, but honestly it was like fireworks. Whatever was inside of the oven literally exploded and made a loud bang noise that shook the room; you just stared at it with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Xavier, who had been watching this monstrosity cook, was also staring at it. He seemed more confused if anything and after you both watched it you realized somebody had to kick it into gear.

You vaulted off the back of the couch and began rushing into the kitchen like your life depended on it. There were already flames and you had no idea how this was even possible in only ten minutes. You grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and managed to snuff out the fire in record time, then quickly went over to shut the damn thing off before anything else could happen. You were panting as you stared at the now burnt oven, then back at Xavier who had opted to just watch the entire thing with wide eyes.

After a moment of silence you finally managed to get out, “Xavier…what the fuck?” you looked between him and the ashes. Xavier finally seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, walking over to you and the oven. He placed a hand over your waist, probably about to apologize and make everything alright when the next series of unfortunate events happened.

The food that Xavier had managed to cook had become char in the oven, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the center of the lump to explode and propell said ashes all over the surrounding areas. The explosion also managed to ricochet the powder from the fire extinguisher that had been coating it, making a beautiful plume of every chemical that shouldn't be in your lungs.

It had you coughing and hacking, “The window! Get the window!” You called out to Xavier, not even capable of seeing through all the smoke. Xavier’s frantic footsteps could be heard as he dashed towards the nearest window in the kitchen, the latch clicked open as it was unlocked and thrown open in a flurry.

“Come on,” Xavier’s voice had the nerve to sound worried as he wrapped strong arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you out of the main area of the explosion where particles still lingered. Once safely in the living room, you hacked and coughed some of the smoke out of your lungs then looked over at Xavier. You were opening your mouth to begin a long and drawn out lecture, but he managed to beat you to it.

“I’m sorry…” He said, his voice a gentle lull that made all your anger about the situation dissipated. You let out a small sigh then took in his appearance. His pristine skin now had smatterings of ash all over it and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked like he had just come back from a battle against some wanderers with how the dark soots clung to his hair and face and slowly fell to the ground whenever he moved.

“Xavie…” You said with amusement in your voice, “You got a little…” you pointed over at his nose where some of the ash was smudged. He looked at you with a similar look in his eyes.

“I’m not the only one,” He pointed out, reaching over and swiping his thumb over your cheek, “We’re both messes right now,” he sighed, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. His hands now on your waist as he looked into your eyes with a lovestruck expression.

“Oh I wonder whose fault that is,” you teased, shaking your head, “We need a shower and a change of clothes. We can order some food afterwards,” it was a suggestion that you were certain Xavier would be all for. It would also give you two an opportunity to clean up the mess in the kitchen while you waited for dinner…it wasn’t something you looked forward to as your eyes glanced behind Xavier to see that there was still stuff floating about in the kitchen.

“That sounds nice…should we open some more windows?” Xavier asked after he followed your gaze. Everything was destroyed and you were certain there might’ve even been some neighbors in the hallway staring at the door with all the commotion this had caused. The only difference this time was the fire alarms weren’t blaring to alert everyone in the complex that this man hadn’t a single clue about how to cook.

Honestly you were damn happy you managed to uninstall his fire alarms. Was it a violation to the apartment contract? Without a doubt, yes. Did you care? No. You would actually cry if you had to hear those alarms going off anytime the man thought he could cook, a sentiment you were sure was shared amongst everyone living nearby.

“Ya, let’s open every available window for now,” you said, “Then it’s shower time,” you were already heading towards the living room to get to work. It only took a few minutes to get everything open, and Xavier even went so far as to open the ones in his bedroom as well, just in case. The gentle breeze that blew into the apartment was already making it easier to breathe in.

Once all was said and done, Xavier had come back up to you, “If you’d like, you can shower first,”. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just too sweet and adorable when he gave you those eyes and put your needs before his. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you dragged him down for a quick kiss. He let out a confused noise from the back of his throat, but ended up leaning into you like he always did. His body melted into you everytime your lips touched and right now was no different; his hands gently placed on your hip, his lips gently grazing your own.

When you parted you looked up at him, “How about we shower together today?” showering was something you two didn’t partake in too often as the shower wasn’t huge, but in moments like these it made sense. You both desperately needed to clean up.

Xavier’s grip on your hips tightened in response as he then leaned down quickly for another soft press of your lips and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he took your hand into his own, his thumb grazing against your knuckles. It was tender as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before giving it a proper hold.

He began leading you through the apartment, gently tugging you along and squeezing your hand until you arrived in his restroom. It was just big enough for the two of you to comfortably be inside at the same time. The room looked like a perfect combination of the two of you, a few of your personal belongings scattered about. Xavier had insisted you kept things over here despite how you lived right below him. You assumed he liked having pieces of you in his life, and you could relate.

The moment you began undressing you realized that your current attire was absolutely ruined, no amount of washing would fix that. As you began working your pants off your eyes trailed over to your boyfriend. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect as you watched him take off his hoodie in one swift motion, revealing the expanse of his muscular chest. You had to pause for a second, taking in the sight. You didn’t know how someone could be sculpted so perfectly, but here Xavier stood, like a greek statue come to life. Except…

Your eyes turned down to him unzipping his pants…ya that certainly wasn’t like any of the statues you had seen. He had stopped in his motions and your eyes went back up to see him looking directly at you. One of his eyebrows rose as he noticed how your eyes were practically glued to him. You were completely unashamed of your actions and when you noticed his eyes quickly flickering over your form you smirked.

“Why’d you stop, I was enjoying myself,” You teased him, slowly making your way to the shower. You turned it on and sat at the edge, leaning on the wall as your gaze went back to him, “Go on,” you encouraged. Now you were making a show of how you looked at him, even going so far as to lick your lips. You could see the way his body shuddered under your gaze and it was already starting to set the mood for something else.

Xavier looked at you one more time before his hands went back to his half open pants. He slowly worked them open and hooked his fingers into the edge in a seductive fashion, eyes quickly flicking to yours to make sure you were watching. You watched the shuddered breath he took in as he worked his pants and briefs off, for a second the briefs got caught on the half hard bulge. You fought back the urge to tease him, knowing just how his body reacted when around you. This shower was probably going to last a little bit longer than expected, but you certainly didn’t mind.

Once he was fully undressed he approached you, taking your hand once more as he led you into the shower. Like the gentleman he was, he made sure you were directly under the showerhead. His hands went into your hair, massaging your scalp as he worked out some of the ashes. The water poured over your face as you closed your eyes, feeling his hands rubbing off the dirt and debris for you. You briefly felt his lips ghosting over your own, but when you opened he was just looking at you with that innocent smile as though he didn’t do anything.

“Xavier…” you murmured, wanting to drag him back down for a proper kiss, but he needed to be cleaned up first. With your hands on his shoulders you were able to spin the two of you around, the motion fluid with the amount of times you had done this. He didn’t fight you on it, instead sighing as he got under the running water. He turned towards it, letting it splash onto his face and hair as he washed himself, leaving you to watch him.

The way the water trickled down his back teasingly, his back muscles moving with every motion…it was so tantalizing. He managed to be sexy without even trying and you knew for a fact you didn’t want to hold back for even a second longer. As soon as you were certain he was cleaned up, you took a step forward, wrapping your arms around his front and pressing your face between his shoulder blades.

Your lips gently grazed his shoulder blades as your arms held him tighter to your body. A shiver went down his spine as he craned his neck around to look at you. “Did you need something?” he asked, his voice as sweet and gentle as it always was.

You let out a satisfied hum at his question, you pressed another sweet kiss into his shoulder before speaking up, “You’re so pretty, Xayxay,” you muttered contently against him. Your grip loosened a bit as you nuzzled your face into him..

Xavier understood what you wanted, turning around in your arms. You wasted no time, leaning up and pressing your lips against his own. Once more he began melting against your mouth as he sighed as though your lips were the only thing he needed in life. Xavier let out a small gasp once he felt your tongue prodding at his lower lip and he easily opened up, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth. Xavier always tasted sweet to you, something so uniquely him as your mouth explored his own.

Xavier’s groan echoed along the shower walls, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your bodies were pressed together as one of your hands grasped his hair, keeping him right where you wanted him. The loud smacking of lips reverberated in the small room as you drank in the man before you, enjoying every brush of his tongue against your own as your thighs pressed together.

You felt his cock twitching against your stomach and you smirked against Xavier’s mouth. Your free hand running down his chest until you were tracing the lines of his Adonis belt teasingly. You parted for only a second and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Getting excited?” you asked with a smirk, your hand now trailing even lower until you were cupping his dick. He let out a small groan, his hips rolling up into your hand in response. You grasped his dick, giving a few experimental tugs on him, watching as his mouth dropped open and he stared down at you, “I wanna hear you, sweetheart, want you to tell me exactly what you want,”

“O-okay,” he managed to moan, “Please keep…” your pace got a little bit faster at the sound of his pleading. The smallest whimper escaping him, his voice got caught in his throat as the only thing he was focused on was your hand pumping his cock with the perfect pressure that had his mind reeling.

“Keep what?” You cooed, loving how responsive this man always was. His breathing began mixing with the loud noises of your hand expertly working his cock. Your thumb swiping some of the leaking pre cum that was threatening to drop onto the shower floor, “Come on, I wanna hear you,” you teased, placing a small nip to his jawline..

He leaned closer to you, his hands grasping your hips as he rolled his own up into your waiting hand, “Keep…touching me,” his voice sounded breathless and you could feel how he twitched in your hand. To think he would be this quick to cum just from a simple hand job. You absolutely adored this side of Xavier, when he completely gave in to you and became such a good and submissive boy. This side of him was reserved only for you which is exactly why you enjoyed drawing it out of him.

“Alright, pretty boy,” you cooed, your hand now speeding up. Your only goal at the moment was to get him to cum, and with how his hips were jerking he was seconds away. His head bent down into your shoulder as he let out a small whine. The pelting of the water against his back was the only thing grounding him at the moment as he finally gave in to the pleasure.

You looked between your bodies and watched as ropes of cum erupted from the head of his cock. The thick fluid coated your hands and splashed between your bodies, some of it getting right onto your stomach and dripping down between your legs. Xavier seemed to have noticed this too, another lewd moan coming from the back of his throat as he rolled his hips a few more times into your waiting hand, letting his spend wash over the both of you.

You let him relax against you for a moment, your fingers playing with some of his cum that was now coating your palm and fingers. A thought crossed your mind and after Xavier’s breathing started to even out, you used your shoulder to gently nudge him off you. He stood back up, looking down at you with a gentle flush coating his cheeks that seemed to darken as you brought your hand up to his mouth.

“Want a taste, bunny?” You asked, the cum slightly smearing on the corner of his lips as you swiped your thumb over his mouth. You watched how his eyes widened a fraction as what you were asking. He looked at you for a minute more, weighing his options as he felt your finger pressing a little harder on his bottom lip, a silent command to open.

He complied, opening his mouth, his tongue darting out and licking his essence off your palm. He groaned at the taste, and you smirked as he lapped up his own release. HIs pink tongue licking between your fingers as he worked on making sure it was completely clean. When most of it was gone you pressed two fingers onto his tongue, pressing down as his jaw opened for you to look in his mouth. You could see a little bit of the white on the tip and you glanced back into his eyes.

“What a good boy, now make sure to swallow it,” you said and watched as he closed his mouth around your fingers, giving them a gentle suck as he swallowed his own load. You took your fingers out of his mouth and reached behind him, turning off the shower and looking up at him.

“What a good boy…” you murmured, your hand on his shoulder as you coaxed him to follow your lead, leaning down and kissing him again. Xavier groaned against your mouth as you pressed your tongue back into his, able to faintly taste his release. His grip on your hips tightening for a second as you parted as though he didn’t want you to go. He looked so damn handsome like this and you swore you were falling in love all over again.

“We should…” he trailed off and you knew exactly what he was implying. Without the running water it was starting to get chilly. As much as you watched to watch his nipples pebbling up from the chill, you did want to get warmed up.

“Alright, come on,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips before taking his hands off your hips. You took his larger hand into your own, dragging him out of the shower. He was smiling at you, allowing you to pull him in any direction you wanted. You took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, forcing him forward and into your body once more, “How about after we dry off a little…” you began suggesting.

You didn’t even finish your train of thought as Xavier nodded, “Yes please,” he quickly said, not even an ounce of shame with how desperate he was for you. You chuckled as you wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and grabbed your own. The two of you fell into a rhyme together, practically dancing around one another as you worked on getting yourselves dried off.

Once you were somewhat dry you two left the towels abandoned on the floor. Hand in hand as you made your way into the bedroom, bumping into one another like excited teens doing something naughty. The way Xavier kept gazing down at you like you were the one who hung every star in the sky.

The moment you came to the bedroom you were gently pushing him down onto the mattress, your hand on his chest. He didn’t fight it, allowing you to crawl on top of him, your lips meeting again and Xavier’s hands threaded through your hair, gently playing with it as he kept you against him. If there was one thing Xavier loved, it was kissing you. It was like oxygen as your lips perfectly melded together every single time, sending a tingling sensation to the back of his head and making him shiver. He could never get enough of you as you gently bit down on his lower lip, requesting access once more.

You parted your lips from him, opting to look down at the man as your hair dripped onto his body, “Xavier,” you began breathlessly, catching his attention, “I still wanna play a little bit,” you murmured, catching his attention at the way you said it. You had the smallest pout on your lips, although he could tell with how your eyes were gleaming that something sinister was brewing in your mind.

Still, he was a weak man, and if you said jump he’d ask how high and to where. “Alright, if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice wavering only slightly. He had hoped you would just ride him, or maybe let him flip you over, but if you wanted to play with his body then he’d allow you. As long as you didn’t tease him too much he let you do whatever you wanted.

“Thanks babe,” you leaned back up to kiss him quickly before your lips began pressing along his body. You could hear his breath hitch as your lips trailed down his neck and to his chest. Your tongue lapping at one of his hardened nipples before latching on. His back arched into you just from the simple.

“W-wait,” he moaned out, feeling how your tongue swirled around the hardening bud. You let out a hum, looking up at him while your other hand went to play with his other nipple. You waited for him to continue but instead he ground his hips up into you. At this angle his cock was rutting against your stomach and you could feel how hard he had gotten since the shower. You felt the slightest wet sensation from the top of his cock leaking.

Perhaps at some point you’d see if it was possible to get him to cum with just stimulation to his nipples, but you wanted him to cum in your mouth at the moment. When you had kissed him earlier, tongue pressing against his own, you could faintly taste him. It had you craving more, like it always did. It was bitter, salty, but it tasted like him and that was all your mind really wanted. You wanted Xavier in every way possible, all at once.

You popped off his nipple, licking your already wet lips, “Xavier, you told me to wait,” you pressed a kiss between his pecs, “Now what am I waiting for?” your mouth was moving over to his other cute nipple. It was pink and pebbled perfect as your breath ghosted over it, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine.

Xavier opened his mouth and was about to say something when he seemed to pause. His eyebrows furrowed as he clearly tried to think about why he wanted you to wait. You felt so good kissing him, licking his nipples, it was making him hard and needy. He swallowed the lump in his throat as you spoke up, “Can’t remember? Want me to continue then?” teasingly your tongue poked out your mouth and licked his pearled up bud.

This elicited a small gasp from him, his hand reaching up to run through your hair, pushing away some so it wouldn’t get in the way, “Yes please,” he said and your mouth latched onto him, giving this side the same treatment. Your tongue swirling around his hardened peak, making him groan as he pressed his chest closer to your mouth. Your fingers played with the other side, giving it a harsh pinch so you could see him mewl.

His hips were rutting shamelessly against your stomach, twitching as he tried to get some much needed stimulation. You smirked, biting around his nipple and god that had him moaning like a damn whore, his grip on your hair tightening as you popped off his nipple. You looked at your work, seeing his pink nipples now turned a red tone. Your teeth marks were perfectly around one of them and his blush now spread from his cheeks down to his chest so perfectly it made you want to eat him right up.

“Such a pretty boy,” your words made him whimper, watching as you began kissing a trail down his chest to his abs. Your tongue lapped at some of the water droplets that still clung to his skin as you gazed up at him. He was watching you with such an intense gaze as you made your way down to his hips.

You bit down on his Adonis belt, making Xavier’s hips buck up into you. You felt his erection between your chest now, leaking all over you from how hot and bothered you managed to make him. You chuckled as you licked at the small red bite mark you had left on him. Xavier looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your teasing.

“Something to say?” you said, your hands now rubbing at his thighs as you coaxed him to spread them. The pink dusting on his cheeks didn’t seem like it would be going anywhere soon, in fact it seemed to make him a shade darker as he looked away from you for a moment. Despite his embarrassed state, you watched as he opened his legs to make room for you to nestle between them. Your cheek rested on his inner thigh as your other hand gently played with the other.

“N-no…” he said, looking at you between his thighs. You looked at him lovingly, smiling as you kissed his thigh and adjusted yourself. Your hand wrapping around his cock as you gave a few gentle tugs, feeling how he twitched in your hands. He let out a small whimper at your hand wrapping around him again, his eyes half lidded as he stared down at you. You could see his mouth open slightly, panting and you shivered at the sight. He was so sensitive and it never ceased to turn you on.

You teased him one last time, biting down on his inner thigh hard and watched as his cock jumped in your hands. A thick bead of pre cum dripping down the shaft and right into your hand as you casually pumped his cock. Xavier let out a whimpering moan at the rough treatment and you only wished he didn’t heal so damn fast the marks you left would be seen for at least a week after this. It was fine, you’d just have to refresh them daily since they went away seemingly overnight.

Finally you took his cock into your mouth, giving the tip a harsh suck. Xavier’s hips rolled into your mouth out of instinct, making you smirk and pop off him, “Xavie baby,” you cooed, watching his hazy eyes staring down at you as he tried listening, “Be still for me, okay sweetheart?” you began, “Think you can do that for me?”

Xavier let out a groan and nodded, but when he noticed you weren’t back on his dick he realized what you wanted, “I-I promise,” he swore, his tone breathy and debauched already. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. You briefly wondered if you could make him drool today by fucking him. Well, there was only one way to find out…

You wasted no time, your mouth moving on Xavier as you began sucking his cock like it was the last thing you’d ever taste. The change was immediate as you began working in earnest, and Xavier clearly wasn’t prepared for you to be sucking him like this right out the gate. The high pitched keen that left him was telling, as well as the steady dribble of his pre that was coating the back of your tongue. You groaned at the taste of him, working to relax your throat so you could take all of him.

Xavier certainly wasn’t small, the girth of his cock was punishing if you weren’t prepared to take it, but thankfully his length was only a little above average. It made it a little easier for you to deepthroat him, but even then you gagged around his length a little as it hit the back of your throat. Xavier gasped at the sound you made, looking down with a flush as his hand went back into your hair, dragging you off his cock and watching the trail of saliva connecting your lips to the tip.

“Y-you don’t have to…” he swallowed, “Take it too deep…it feels good no matter what,” he said, his eyes concerned despite how turned on he was. You moved to kiss his cock, making him close his eyes and breath deeply, trying to steady himself from how good you were making him feel right now.

Finally you deigned to speak up, “Do you not like me gagging on your cock, Xavier?” the lewd words making him groan, “Because I love taking you deep, babes, seeing your eyes rolling back from the pleasure. Want you to get lost in it,” you rambled on, licking up his length. A small whine escaped him as his grip on your hair loosened enough for you to move freely, “Let me make you feel good, bunny, I promise I won’t push myself. Is that okay?” you licked the dribble from his tip again.

Xavier licked his lips and nodded, “If you’re sure…” he said and it was the green light you were waiting for. Your lips wrapping back around him as you sank down as deep as you could go, feeling his cock once again hitting the back of your throat and you hummed in delight.

Xavier hadn’t expected you to sink down like that the moment he said it was okay. His head was thrown back onto the pillow as he let out the loudest moan of the night. His sounds were music to your ears, so beautiful every single time he let a noise escape those pretty lips of his.

His head was now spinning from how good you were making him feel and it was a struggle for him not to roll his hips into your mouth. His throbbing cock was heavy on your tongue as you worked on swirling it around his shaft. With how thick he was it wasn’t easy, his dick taking up all the room in your mouth and it caused a gentle ache in your jaw.

His breathing was becoming labored and he could feel himself getting close embarrassingly at an alarmingly fast rate. Perhaps it was due to him still being sensitive from you jerking him off in the shower, but the moans coming out of him were so loud and his cock was now twitching against your tongue. His body trembled as he worked on holding himself back and it was so adorable seeing him place his hand in his mouth, biting down on it to keep his noise level down.

What wouldn’t fit in your mouth was now being stroked with your hand, your other one cupping his balls and you could feel how they tightened in your grasp, “W-wait I’m…” Xavier managed to get out, wanting to warn you, maybe even stop you from continuing. He probably wanted to be inside of you before he came, but at present you had no intention on letting him fuck you for this evening.

You could feel his cock twitch once more before you could taste the bitterness of his cum as he shot out and onto your tongue. You worked on angling his cock so his load wouldn’t shoot right down your throat. You wanted to taste him as you worked him through a second orgasm for the night. You hummed around his length, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment as his grip on your hair was so tight. The burn of it only made you feel hot and bothered as you rolled your hips into the mattress below.

Xavier was so sensitive at the moment as he started to come down from his high. He flinched at feeling how you had kept him in your mouth, your tongue laving at the lip as you swallowed his load. He could feel your throat constricting with the motion and he recoiled. You smirked at the reaction he had, knowing it was probably a little painful after just coming for the second time that night. You had every intention of ruining this man though, so instead of letting him have a moment to breathe you were popping your lips off his cock and replacing it with your hand.

You spit on your other hand, placing your wet fingers against his entrance. Some of the spit from your sloppy blowjob had already dripped down to his ass, making it easier to push a finger into his hole. You watched Xavier’s eyes shoot open, widening almost comically as he let out a whorish moan. He looked down as you began fucking him with your finger, your mouth going back to wrap around the head of his dick.

“S-stop it’s-mhm fuck,” he gasped out as your fingers found his prostate the moment you were pressed into him. You had done this so many times it was second nature to you. You felt how his cock was twitching again in your mouth. It hadn’t even had a moment to soften as your tongue worked on the length. Xavier looked completely out of it, staring down at you with a frantic look in those hazy blue eyes.

Xavier was panting, trying to shy away from your touches but it was no use. He let out another whine and rolled his hips up, making you gag for a second on his length and you looked up at him in amusement. He looked so fucked out and he had only cum twice so far. He was honestly too adorable as you continued to finger him, a second finger now pressing inside as you scissored him. You worked his entrance open all the while listening to his symphony and whimpers and whines.

He was squirming under your ministrations, the hand that wasn’t in your hair was thrown back into his mouth as he bit down harshly in a failed attempt at muffling those cute noises. The noises he made were sure to get you guys a few noise complaints come tomorrow morning, but as it stood you were drinking them all in as you didn’t let up. His cock throbbed in your mouth, pulsing against your tongue and you finally took your mouth off his cock. You licked your lips, his taste lingering in your mouth and you ground your hips once more into the mattress to help alleviate the growing arousal in you. You wanted to focus on Xavier though, you could deal with your own needs at another time.

Xavier’s ass clenched around your fingers perfectly and you almost felt bad when you took them out. Xavier looked down at you confused as to why you stopped. While his body was sensitive he was starting to get so close to coming again.

“W-why’d you…” he trailed off, his lips forming a cute pout and you chuckled at the sight. Fuck he was too adorable and he didn’t even realize it half the time. How was this man a dangerous hunter yet easily fell apart into a whimpering mess the moment you toyed with his body?

“Give me a minute, okay?” you assured him with a gentle squeeze to his thighs. You stood up from the bed and walked over to the drawer in the nightstand, quickly finding your harness alongside the lube. It was a pretty little thing, a sleek baby blue strap that was long and tapered. It wasn’t particularly girthy, but the end of it did have an upward turn for finding the prostate. It was the perfect toy for Xavier. He didn’t much care for having something huge in him, but he was always readily accepting of something that would graze that tender spot inside every thrust.

Xavier has wrongfully assumed he had a moment of peace as he laid back on the mattress, his cock hard but sensitive. That illusion was destroyed the moment he looked over to see the strap in your hand. His breath got caught in his throat as he saw you holding the harness and lube, looking at him with intrigue. His cock betrayed him, twitching at the sight of you and it didn’t go unnoticed if the growing smirk on your face was telling.

You watched as your sweet boy squirmed on the bed, attempting to sit up so he could have at least a little dignity. Just by clicking your tongue he paused, looking over at you, “Xavier, calm down baby boy,” you cooed, “I’ll give you what you want in just a second, let me just put this on real fast,”

He stopped moving for a moment, opting to sink back onto the pillows underneath him. He watched as you put on the harness, working the straps of it over your thighs and hips as you secured it into place. He licked his lips as you tightened it, watching how it clung to you so perfectly. You gently got on the bed, the mattress having enough give to shift Xavier on it as he looked at you with so much want in his eyes.

You crawled over until you were between Xavier’s legs and tapped them then smiled as you saw Xavier eagerly opening his legs so you’d have better access. His cock laid heavy between them, dripping onto the mattress as your hand took it, pumping it twice before laying it on his stomach.. The popping noise of the lube cap opening sounded so loud in the room as you poured some over your hand; Xavier watched as you smeared some of the viscous liquid onto the artificial cock.. Those same fingers that were making him fall apart minutes ago now pressed against his entrance.

“Is this okay?” You murmured, pressing a finger inside of him. It was an easy glide and soon the second joined it as you scissored him. You were careful not to press against his prostate again, your only goal was to get lube inside of him so the cock would be comfortably nestled in his warmth.

He let out a loud moan, feeling how you began working him open some more. He nodded in reply, his jaw open in pleasure and you stopped your movements and looked at him, “Use your words,” you instructed, “You know how much I love hearing your voice,”

Xavier swallowed thickly before nodding, “Y-yes, it’s okay…” he trailed off once he felt your fingers moving inside of him. It didn’t take much with your previous ministrations and you took your fingers out, stroking your strap as Xavier’s eyes flew down to you, trying to relax in anticipation of being fucked.

You pressed the head of the strap against his hole, teasing him as you put just a little bit of pressure and allowing the tip inside. Xavier looked up at you with pleading eyes; they looked almost wet with unshed tears and you couldn’t help but smirk at how docile he appeared to be in the moment. He claimed he wasn’t some sweet and innocent bunny, but it took barely any coaxing to get him to this point of being needy. Sure sometimes he was capable of flipping you over the couch and fucking you dumb, but he was just as willing to be on his back like this.

“Please don’t tease me,” he managed to mutter, his cute flush crossing his cheeks as he stared up at you. He looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t even put it in yet. You felt your entire body getting a bit warmer, licking your lips as you decided to give him what he wanted.

“Of course, my love, you know I’ll give you anything when you ask me like that,” The toy easily began sliding into his waiting hole, his entire body lax under your touch as you bottomed out in him. You heard him letting out a keening whine as you adjusted, the tip of it no doubt grazing his prostate as you intended You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it again and without warning you began thrusting hard.

Xavier’s legs were quick to wrap around your waist at the feeling , locking his ankles around your back as he let out a loud and needy moan. Small curses escaping his mouth at feeling how fast you began fucking him, how your slick hand wrapped around his cock and worked him at the same pace as the strap.

It only came as a small surprise when you watched his cock twitch before splatters of cum painted his abs and your hand. It had happened so fast that you don’t even think Xavier was able to comprehend that he came immediately, the sensations being too much in such a short timespan that he let out a broken whimper as you worked him through it.

“Fuck…” you moaned out, seeing how easily he came, his cock still twitching as you didn’t let up your pace. Xavier’s arms were clutching at the pillows near his head, his back arched off the mattress as you continued fucking him at a fast pace. He felt like he was going to break as tears slid down his cheeks at the near painful feeling of your hand jerking him off.

Your hips worked against Xavier, thrusting into him at a brutal pace as the room filled with the slapping noises and Xavier’s small sobs. You wanted to see him become a complete and utter mess and you were so damn close to it. Xavier made the realization at what you were after after he started to come down from his high. His body felt like a livewire, already coming three times within maybe half an hour.

His entire body jostled with every thrust and he was absolutely whining now, babbling about it being too much as the strap hit his prostate with every thrust. His head was thrown back as he tried squirming away, his hands still grasping the sheets underneath him like a life line as the material scrunched up and almost tore from the grip. He couldn’t stop the pathetic whimpering noises that flew out of his mouth, every thrust punching the air right out of his lungs.

“Ah-ah-hah p-please mhn-hah…” hearing him moaning your name like it was the gospel as his cock leaked, his own cum being smeared over his stomach as you pressed his dick onto it. You used his own stomach and your hand to create more friction as you worked him perfectly to the same tune of your thrusts.

His mind instantly went to mush at the sensation, short circuiting as the only thing his brain could focus on was the pleasure coursing through him. He didn’t even think he had anything left to give as tears streaming out, his mouth opened as he let out sobs that he couldn’t contain. You could feel his cock twitching and his body responded like you’d come to expect when he came, but instead of cum leaking from the tip there was only a drizzle of clear fluid as he had a mostly dry orgasm.

He couldn’t even speak at this point, his entire mind clouded and as much as you wanted to keep fucking him, you knew he was spent. He was panting and crying and damn he couldn’t even cum anymore at this point. You let go of his poor cock, watching as it dropped onto his stomach as you let out gentle coos, your hands rubbing his hips gently as you tried getting him to come back to you.

Still you couldn’t help but tease him a little more, those blue eyes seemed a little far off but they were still staring at you helplessly. You slowly took the strap out, watching as he let out a whine or protest that he probably didn’t even realize came out of his mouth. You smirked, rubbing his thighs now, “Good job, Xavier, did such a good job,” you said as you adjusted yourself. You leaned in, your tongue now licking a strip up his abs and collecting his fluid. Xavier shifted, letting out a few cute noises at the slight tickling feeling which turned into a sharp gasp.

Your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, giving it a harsh suck as you cleaned it up. You didn’t remain there for long, popping off after a second. You just wanted to see him twitch from the sensitivity not actually work him towards another orgasm. With Xavier being somewhat clean you worked the harness off your body and tossed it to the ground of the room. It could be cleaned later, but for now your beautiful bunny needed you.

His legs had long since fallen from around your waist as you grabbed at his upper thighs, moving his body with you as you laid him on his side. You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss that he couldn’t even respond properly to. Instead of trying to get him to talk. You began pressing kisses on his forehead and cheeks, “Such a good boy for me, Xavie,” you murmured against him, smiling at how cute he looked. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed ready to respond, his eyes now tired and red.

“You good, Xavier?” you murmured as you adjusted him so he was securely wrapped up with you. His arms were around your waist and he dragged you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“Ya…” he muttered out, making you smirk. He seemed to finally be coming back to his senses which meant he was going to be extra cuddly, probably not letting you go for the entire night.

“Alright good…you know I still need to clean you up,” you pointed out and Xavier’s grip on you tightened, holding you like a stuffed animal. It seemed like your observation was right, you were going to be trapped here. You let out a small sigh as you readily accepted your fate, your hands wrapping around him and relaxing into his body. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything else as his body fell into a gentle sleep, completely spent from the activities.

I would like to apologize if there's any typos in here. I really wanted to get this out before work but there's literally almost 8k words here and there's no way I'd be able to finish rereading the entire thing.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #xavier x reader #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #rabid rabbit hours

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petermorwood · 3 months ago

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More Sword Questions...

These are further questions prompted by a post already long enough that I’m not reblogging the whole thing. It’s here.

@softness-and-shattering (who posted the original Ask) wrote:

Thank you so much! What Im getting is that there arent any exact rules, different people and places mixed and matched sword features as they liked. Is that more or less correct? The swords that are green, is that oxidization? Theyre very pretty. And if fullers are to reduce sword weight, what are ridges for? Thanks again :)

*****

(1) Yes, it's oxidation. The uncomplimentary word is "tarnish", the complimentary word is "patina". Bronze swords in museums can be various colours ranging from green (verdigris)...

...through golden...

...to shades of brown and almost black.

I don’t know why (archaeological metallurgy is a mystery to me) but at a guess it's related to the acidity of the ground in which they were found, the proportions of copper / tin / other metals in their bronze.

It may also be the point at which conservators decided they'd gone far enough with that particular artefact and further restoration / cleaning would cause damage.

*****

(2) Ridges on sword-blades add stiffness, is the remnant of the bar or rod of steel from which the sword was made, and are created as the blade's final form is hammered out on either side, leaving a sort of raised centre-parting.

(If this is over-simplified or just plain wrong and swordsmiths reading it are going "Nooo!", please correct me!) ;->

Here's one example with a very prominent ridge, from the Victoria & Albert Museum in London...

...and another with a more restrained centre-line from the Metropolitan Museum in New York.

*****

(3) Sword shapes and features changed depending on functional requirements. If a shape worked and its use didn’t change, it stayed the same. The Roman gladius and Japanese katana are two examples of not much change in shape over several centuries.

Demands of fashion also played a part in what kind of sword was worn when and with what.

While swords (not just Messers or falchions or other "fighting knives") do appear without armour in medieval art...

...swords only became a regular part of civilian dress in the mid-late 1400s.

In Germany this was called a Reitschwert - "riding sword" - for self-defence when out (riding) in ordinary clothes. In Italy it was a spada da lato - "side-sword" - for what's now called EDC (every-day-carry) not just in war. In Spain it was an espada ropera - "robe sword" - for wear with regular clothes rather than armour.

That last one, worn down, mispronounced or just plain pinched, became "rapier", and because it was worn every day, with stylish garments, it became yet another way in which to show off.

The most common Europe-wide rapier was a "swept hilt", comprising bars and loops, while Spain and Spanish-influenced places like Italy preferred the "cup-hilt", which had a different style of swordplay.

Cup-hilts are familiar from movies because it's easy to dress up a sport-fencing sword as something much older. Here's a stage-combat modern épée and two real rapiers.

Cup-hilts could be plain metal bowls like those, or beautiful examples of chiselled, pierced metalwork.

Swept-hilts could be equally impressive.

They were proof that their wearers were dedicated followers of fashion, men of wealth and taste - and, of course, always armed and just as always ready to use what they carried at the drop of whatever was just dropped.

Duelling became a craze, laws against it were ignored, any excuse would do, and Shakespeare summed it up nicely:

MERCUTIO: Nay, and there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast; thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another for tying his new shoes with old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling?

(That one about the doublet had echoes in 1922, with The Straw Hat Riot in New York, involving assaults on men who hadn't stopped wearing straw hats by the fashion-approved date of mid-September. At least nobody got run through...)

Oddly enough, portraits which include rapiers usually show swept-hilts, even in Spanish portraits where cup-hilts might be expected (I've seen a couple, but not many). Perhaps the artist didn’t have one to hand, or thought the swept-hilt style was more visually interesting.

The smallsword (shorter, lighter, less cumbersome to wear) replaced the rapier, and it too featured a lot in portraits. It was a piece of masculine jewellery, with a stiff narrow blade on an elegant hilt which might be metal...

...or some more exotic material like mother-of-pearl or porcelain.

Then fashion changed again, smallswords also went away, and once again the only people wearing swords on a regular basis were uniformed military types, whose swords could be all sorts of shapes and sizes depending on branch of service and function.

Even when that function is just to be part of regalia, and look good on parade.

#arms and armour #swords #shapes of swords #styles of swords

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peppermintquartz · 5 months ago

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from a post by @parrishjeanna

I shouldn't have left Evan on the curb. Tommy kicks himself mentally when he gets home, and slumps into his armchair. But it stung when Evan told Eddie that they were going to look for "hot chicks". Stung in a way that Tommy didn't expect it to. It's not as if he expected Evan to declare out loud and proud that he's into dudes now, it's just that Evan panicked so fast in the presence of his best friend, and Tommy doesn't want to make him feel bad about any of this. He doesn't want to be shoved back in the closet either. It's taken him a lot of work to be comfortable with being gay, and Evan hasn't gone through all that yet.

He sighs again. Evan had looked so adorable, too, all flustered and blushing, too nervous to eat much but still engaged in their conversation. Tommy almost wishes he had taken that one step further, got a farewell kiss, but he would have caved to those big puppy eyes and he would have taken Evan to the movies and then there will be a more painful heartbreak for him in the future because he hadn't been firm this time. He knows this for a fact; it's not his first rodeo.

Nonetheless, there is a sense of wistful regret. He really wants to have kissed Evan a second time.

Evan's sitting there in the sun, glancing left and right, and Tommy's heart leaps into his mouth at how charming - yes, that's the word - the scene is. He takes a deep breath and sticks his hands in his pockets and walks closer.

He sees the exact moment Evan notices him, the way the younger man's smile widens.

"Hey," Evan says, and he's still as adorable as he was the first time Tommy saw him, when Howie led him and Eddie to the helicopter and they made hasty introductions.

"Hey," Tommy replies, and cringes inwardly at how forced-casual his tone is. It's the talk, he guesses, the one the guys give when they want to let Tommy down easy, to let him know that they were mistaken about feeling like that about him.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me," Evan continues

"Of course."

Motioning to the coffee he ordered for Tommy, Evan smiles and says, (rambles, really) "I didn't know how you take it, so I, uh, just took a guess."

Tommy tries it. He debates for a second if he should lie, but puts that thought away. Better to be honest. "Mm. So, not like that."

"Seems like there's a lot we don't know about each other," Evan chuckles and Tommy's heart skips again. God, Evan is so good-looking, especially when his smile lights up his whole face like that, and Tommy braces himself for the letdown.

He meets Evan's eyes. "Practically everything."

"Well," says Evan, and Tommy steels his heart, and Evan continues, "I would like to change that."

What? Tommy suddenly is unable to breathe. He listens to Evan's apology, reassures him that there's nothing to apologize for (this part he has done three times in the past four years, and he means it - he doesn't want to force people out of the closet if they didn't want to be out), explains his reasoning.

Evan smiles wryly. "Still. The way I-I reacted was... not my proudest moment."

This part's new. Tommy nodded. "Noted."

"So you said before, um, th-that you don't think I'm ready."

Oh. Here it is. Tommy keeps his hands under the table, his fingers linked tightly. He's gonna say that he thinks I'm right. That he really isn't ready.

"And the truth is, I don't know what I'm ready for," Evan says, and it is unfair how sincere he looks in that moment, because all Tommy wants is to lean over and kiss the uncertainty out of him, and he can't do that. Not if Evan wants to just be friends. Oblivious to Tommy's internal struggle, Evan continues, "...but I am ready for something. And I think that something... could be with you."

Tommy's fingers clench together. His heart forgets how to beat. He forgets how to breathe. He takes a moment. He can't hide his smile.

"You already know that I'm interested," he manages to say, hoping it comes across clearly enough that it's not merely interest but also desire, yet afraid to be too blatant about what he really wants out of this.

Evan grins and breaks through all of Tommy's defenses. "Come with me to my sister's wedding."

"What?!" Tommy doesn't even know his voice can go that high-pitched, but the sheer enormity of what Evan is offering, just days after that date...

"I want you," Evan repeats, "to be my date for my sister's wedding."

"Evan." It's an Are you sure? and it's not just about the date, it's not just about being his date for his sister's wedding, it's about everyone knowing, and Evan has to understand, he must understand what a huge step it is...

Evan doesn't even hesitate. Tommy's still processing the invitation and finally hears Evan say, "...already know half the people there, and she wants to meet you."

His sister knows about me. He's told her about me. Tommy's never been thrown into the deep end like this. He can't remember being anyone's date to a wedding, let alone a family member's wedding, where his colleagues will also be present. Everyone in Evan's life that matters to him will know.

"Are you... absolutely sure about this?" Tommy asks, needing to confirm this.

Evan's smile is brighter than the sun. "Yes, I'm sure. There's gonna be free food, and I need someone to dance with."

How can anyone say no to that? As Tommy accepts the date, he feels a lot lighter and freer than he has done for a long, long time. This feels right, he thinks, gently squeezing Evan's hand tucked between his own. Let this be right for us both.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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fellthemarvelous · 11 months ago

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Aziraphale's talk with the Metatron

Another unhinged meta post for the Aziraphale Defense Squad. I will continue to defend him hardcore until fandom starts recognizing him as his own person and not a prop for Crowley's character. Welcome to my opinion on the Final Fifteen!!

Hell came to Earth.

Aziraphale blew up his halo while surrounded by Hell.

Aziraphale declared a war on Hell at the exact moment Crowley was in Heaven uncovering Heaven's secrets.

There was a door to Heaven opened through the bookshop and who knows what in the Discorporated Demon the guy at the other end of that door was getting.

Enough to get The Metatron's attention and for him to witness Aziraphale declare war on Hell while his demon boyfriend breaks into Heaven's top secret files and learns that Heaven is holding their rebellious angels hostage.

He doesn't give Aziraphale a chance to say no to Heaven, and Aziraphale is pissed off about it.

Aziraphale DID NOT SAY YES EITHER. It is so very important that people understand this. The Metatron did not give Aziraphale a choice. Aziraphale had to choose the best way to handle a hopeless situation.

I think Aziraphale is waiting for Crowley to get the hint.

Crowley broke into Heaven. He broke into Heaven. He uncovered secrets. Saraqael showed him the trial. He knows the truth.

Aziraphale almost started a war to protect Gabriel.

The Metatron had to intercept that last transmission because Crowley and Aziraphale are powerful enough to shield Earth from both sides.

Remember that during the Bullet Catch scene, Aziraphale asked a group of soldiers to raise their hands if they had experience using firearms. Crowley is the only one who did not raise his hand because he had never fired a gun before.

Now we get to the present, and The Metatron is basically telling Aziraphale that Crowley is not only a threat but there is evidence of the fact that they have been working together for 6,000 years and that he prevented Crowley's arrest by Hell in 1941.

As far as The Metatron is concerned, Aziraphale just committed an act of treason because it helped Crowley get out of Heaven safely with highly classified information.

He didn't know Crowley was in Heaven. Crowley never came back and it made him fear the worst, but then he's showing up with Heaven right after and that only makes it a bigger problem.

Aziraphale chose to keep the peace instead of allowing one side or the other to arrest Gabriel and Beelzebub. He let the former Supreme Archangel and former Grand Duke of Hell escape from their duties. He gave them a choice. They were never supposed to know those choices existed in the first place.

The way that The Metatron said "so predictable" when Nina told him that no one ever asked for Death. The invisible choice. The name of the coffee shop is used as a threat against Aziraphale.

Aziraphale's choice in this situation involved how he chose to present it to Crowley.

Crowley was asking to get his flat back after Shax made the plan to go back to Hell. He was already planning to take Aziraphale to the Ritz to celebrate by getting really drunk. He was fine.

Nina and Maggie's last minute interception got him all hyped up to finally make a love confession.

But please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD can we please try to remember that AZIRAPHALE NEVER SAID YES EITHER.

He seems to be turning himself in and trying to protect Crowley, and only realizes at the end that the Metatron plans to use him against humanity.

Crowley and Aziraphale were not having the same conversation. They were not having the same conversation. They were not having the same conversation.

Aziraphale is terrified. Look at the nervous smile and the way he is so confused as to why Crowley is mad at him. He's trying to tell Crowley he needs helps because he's in trouble.

He said he didn't want to go back to Heaven. He made this clear when he was speaking to Crowley.

He knows the things he is saying are contradictory to what he's learned, and he's needing Crowley to pick up on that. He's trying to tell Crowley that he can't protect him from Hell this time anymore than Crowley can protect him from Heaven because The Metatron knows they've been working together for 6,000 years and are now in a position to reveal Heaven's institutional problem.

Stop getting mad at Aziraphale for not saying no and start asking yourself why some of you refuse to acknowledge the fact that Aziraphale did not say yes to the Metatron either.

Especially knowing that Crowley did not say "yes" or "no" to Hell's offer in The Arrival either.

This isn't an angel who is happy to go back to Heaven. This is an angel begging his best friend to help him because he doesn't have a choice, and not understanding that Crowley thinks Aziraphale is rejecting him and Aziraphale is telling him he no longer has a choice.

He no longer has a choice and now Crowley is upset with him and he's still trying to figure out what just happened.

Aziraphale is going to get up there and cause some trouble though.

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale defense squad #aziraphale #crowley #final fifteen #behold my opinion on aziraphale's perspective #i love crowley #but there is more than one conversation happening #more than one story #more than one perspective

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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DRABBLE: HE GETS HORNY FROM YOUR COSTUME 🎃 (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Happy almost Halloween, y'all! I wanted to post some drabbles for spooky season this year just cuz I'm working & it's been hard to write my fics. BUT I'm gonna try to post at least one oneshot for Halloween & I'll be posting a JJK drabble too. Enjoy! -Jazz ❤️❤️

**********

LUFFY (YOU COSPLAY AS HIM)

“Y/N, come oooooon!” he whined from his bed. “If we’re late, we’re gonna miss out on all of the candy the villagers are givin’ out!”

You rolled your eyes standing in your shared washroom connected to your shared bed chambers. You had your own bedroom located in the girls’ cabins, but Luffy insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could be closer to you. “Alright, alright, hang on,” you sighed, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Lemme just add this and…done!”

You smiled at your costume for tonight before turning to the bathroom door where you could hear Luffy whining and groaning about Zero beating him for the candy. “Alright, you big baby,” you giggled. “You ready to see my costume for tonight?”

“Oooh, wait, wait!” Luffy excitedly protested, seeming to forget about the candy already. “Lemme guess first. Hmm…you’re a ghost!”

“No,” you giggled.

“A vampire?”

“No.”

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You’re one of those bunnies I see around this time of year with the ears and those fishnet stocking things!”

“Not even close, babe,” you laughed. “I’ll give you a hint: it has to do with water.” You could practically hear the gears in Luffy’s head turning. You stayed away from the door, hidden behind it. “You’re a mermaid,” he guessed. “No…a fish? No, no, a pirate!”

“Close!” you replied, and opened the door to the bathroom where you jumped out into the bedroom where Luffy said. “I’m the best pirate and captain in the world!” you giddily said. “Ta-da! I’m you!”

Luffy’s wide grin fell when he got a look at you and your cosplay of him. You had on the cut-off shorts, slides, and even an exact replica of his straw hat. You adorned an open, red vest that made your skin pop and applied a bandeau bra that matched your skin tone and kept your breasts secure. You even got the X scar on his chest down to the T, applying enough purple and red makeup to make it appear as real as possible. You wanted to really gag him with this costume.

And you did, though his awestruck expression made you nervous. “Do you…like it?” you carefully asked.

Luffy ticked his eyes up to yours and instantly, his mouth split into a humongous grin that brightened the room. “Like it?!” he practically screamed. “Y/N, I love it! I mean, look at you! You’re me!” He began to laugh his hysterical, contagious laugh, a hand on his belly. “You look so, so good! You’ve even got the hat!”

You melted at his reaction, glad he loved it and glad to have gotten the reaction you were fishing for. “I figured I could do something different,” you said. You smirked playfully at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Guess that means I’m the captain now.”

Luffy’s laughter immediately stopped, a fire flashing behind his eyes that excited you. “What’s wrong?” you giggled. “Don’t like that idea?” Slowly, he shook his head, not even speaking. The excitement inside of you continued to grow, making your stomach flip. “So what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged. “You wanna fight about it?”

Yes, Luffy did want to fight about it, but not at all in the way you were thinking. His way of “fighting” meant having you on your knees with your ass hiked in the air and your straw hat nearly falling off of your head as your boyfriend snapped his hips behind you again and again, plunging his cock deeper inside of your sobbing, wet pussy with every single second that passed.

“What’s my name?” he asked. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

His hand looped around to grab your chin, folding it firmly. You could hardly form a coherent sentence with how hard his hips were thrusting into you, giving you blinding pleasure over and over again. “God, Luffy!” you shouted.

Luffy wasn’t pleased with that. “Uh-uh, baby,” he grunted. “Wrong answer.”

He shifted his hips to hit your G-spot, emitting sounds from you that came from the deepest parts of your chest as you were plunged into otherworldly pleasure.

“Captain!” you whined, finally catching onto his game. “Fuck, captain, you make this pussy feel so good!”

Luffy grinned and let you dig your face into the mattress again as he pounded your pussy from behind. “That’s right,” he chuckled. “I’m the captain. I’m your captain, the one and only.”

ZORO (MORTAL KOMBAT COSPLAY)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, looking absolutely befuddled.

He sat in his private training room on a bench while you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips and an excited smile on your face. You stood in your Mortal Kombat cosplay which consisted of a very skin-tight outfit with little to be hidden––a stretchy bodysuit that you paired with fishnet stockings and high-knee boots that you felt like you could kick someone with.

“It’s my Halloween costume,” you giggled. “You like it? I thought the bodysuit was a little see-through, but…”

You turned around, picking with your bodysuit which kept bunching up in your ass. Though the wedgies pissed you off, your ass did look amazing in the costume. You felt like the sexiest ninja alive. When you turned back to Zoro, you noticed how red his face was and the weird look in his eyes. “What?” you asked. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with cleaning his weights. “I didn’t say that,” he grumbled.

You smirked at him and leaned against the bench he sat on. “So you do like it?” you chuckled. “You like seein’ me in this, hm?” You took a seat next to him, crossing your fishnet-clad legs over one another. Zoro barely took one glance at you, though it was more for his sake than yours. If he were to take another look at you, there would be nothing stopping him from bending you over this bench and fucking you right out of this costume.

“I didn’t say that either,” he grunted. “I’m just thinkin’ about how cold you’ll be. That outfit is only coverin’ so much of you.” He got up from his spot, holding a dumbbell in his hand that he went to place on the rack with the others.

“Uh-uh,” you replied, not buying his nonchalant attitude one bit. “So should I change?” He didn’t respond or look at you, which made you smile from ear to smile. You knew you were getting to him. Zoro was never a man to voice his arousal or flustered feelings too often, but his body language spoke volumes. “Here, maybe this will change your mind about it,” you giggled.

Out of your belt, you pulled out a fake sword that glinted in the light. “Look-it! And no, it’s not real.” Zoro turned to you and his eyes widened an inch at the sight of the sword in your hand. He walked towards it with heavy footfalls from his boots and examined the sword. “It damn well looks it,” he commented, in awe at how real the fake sword looked. “Just don’t pull this out at the party. You might make the wrong impression.”

“Guess I’ll have to leave it here then,” you sighed, placing it on your lap. You looked up at Zoro who was still staring down at the sword. You could almost feel the temptation radiating off of him. “You can touch it, you know,” you purred. “But only if I can touch yours.” His emerald eyes met yours, noticing your change in tone and the shift in the air.

You took his hand in yours and placed it on the sword, causing him to glide a finger over hilt. You then stood up and pressed your lips against the thick column of his neck, smiling at his hitched breath. You then pressed your tits against his big arm, giving him a feel of what he’d be missing if he didn’t admit how much he loved this outfit. “Pull it out for me,” you whispered against his ear. “We can have a sword fight.”

He practically shoved you aside as he walked away from you as fast he could while you hysterically laughed at your goofiness. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” he sighed. And ridiculous you were…but so was he. He wanted to kick himself when he realized how hard he was for you. “Goddammit,” he muttered, picking up at his sweats.

You noticed immediately. “Wait…are you hard?”

Zoro was still turned away from you and went to clean his other exercise equipment, but you stopped him by jumping in front of him. He glared at you, wondering what else you were planning. He didn’t at all expect you to grab a handful of his hardened cock, emitting a groan from him. “You are!” you laughed. “So you do like the costume!”

Face beat red and clammy, he batted your hand away. “Shut up,” he growled. “What the hell were you expecting walkin’ around in that? It’s like you planned this from the jump.” Silence swelled around you and he raised an eyebrow at your wordless response. “Didn’t you?” he demanded.

Now he was getting it. Once again, you pressed yourself up against him and this time, he didn’t shy away. “You know, if we’re going to a party, I’m gonna have to move around in this.” You placed a hand on his broad chest, admiring the taught skin and tatted ink across his big pecs. “Think you can help me test that out in twenty minutes till the party starts?”

A fire flashed behind Zoo’s eyes as he gripped your ass in one hand, both cheeks fitting in his palm. You whimpered at the rough contact while his fingers on his other hand toyed with the zipper at the back of your costume. “I can do that and more, mama,” he growled. “Now how the fuck do you take this shit off?”

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself on your back, still in your costume, with Zoro on top of you and fucking you into the mattress below in your shared bedroom. The bed was rocking like a damn ship on a stormy sea with how much hard he was fucking you, your legs up and on his shoulders while his thick cock plunged in and out of you. “Z-Zoro!” you whined through pants and moans of pleasure. “We’re gonna be late!”

Your man shook is head above you, his face red and beads of sweet cascading down his handsome face. “I don’t give a fuck,” he grunted. “Should’ve known better than to have teased me like that. Now you’re gonna take all of this cum, mama.”

And you did. You weren’t too happy when he got nut on your costume and laughed about it.

SANJI (SLUTTY ANGEL)

He didn’t say anything for at least ten minutes. You thought the man was dead.

Ten minutes before, he was fine. You had pulled him away from his duties in the kitchen whipping up dinner before the big Halloween bash that the island you and the crew were currently relaxing on was throwing. Dinner that night consisted of clam and salmon fettuccini with buttered rolls, salad, and pumpkin and ghost-shaped cookies for dessert. Your man really knew had to throw down in the kitchen, which is why he is the chef of the crew.

Sanji was quickly to abandon his cooking to attend to you––his love; his beauty; his one and only. You stood in the middle of the kitchen with him, giggling as he ran his hands over your sides in your fluffy robe. “You sure dinner won’t burn?” you curiously asked.

He shook his head, practical hearts in his eyes. "The sauce is simmering and I just put the rolls on,” he replied, his hands still roaming. “The food is fine, my love. Now, what it is you wished to show me?”

He took your hands and pressed a heated kiss to them, always the one for physical touch as his love language. Lucky for him, it was yours too. You stood up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. “I have a surprise for you,” you whispered. “It’s right under here.” You toyed with the tie of your robe, smirking up at him.

Sanji’s mind began to run wild with all of the naughty possibilities of what could be under your robe. Were you naked? Or in a cute little set of lingerie that adorned your skin and made it look soft and supple? When you finally yanked on the tie and let the robe fall, he was floored. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him or had matched up to what was actually under your robe though.

When he saw you in your angel costume, he just about died a thousand times standing there. “Ta-da!” you sang. “It’s my Halloween costume for tonight’s bar crawl after dinner. Nami picked it out for me. You like?” You twirled for him, causing the fake, fluffy white wings taped to your back to flutter behind you.

Sanji didn’t know where to look first. You filled out the white corset bodysuit you wore quite nicely, your luscious breasts pushed up against the bodice where fake white feathers traced along the top as well as around the hem of your stockings that looked so damn good on your legs. You paired glittery, silver heels and a fluffy fake halo with your outfit along with a white collar where a silver heart dangled cutely around your neck, nearly smothered by your gorgeous titties the way Sanji wanted to be.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

Sanji didn’t even realize he was standing there, mouth agape and completely frozen. Noticing that your man’s brain had begun short-circuiting, you stepped up to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Sanji, baby?” you asked. “Sanji, can you hear me?”

That’s when he finally blinked and a trickle of blood ran down his nose. A nosebleed. You barely reacted, having become used to your boyfriend popping nosebleeds when it came to you and your sexiness. He covered his nose immediately, luckily stopping the blood from spurting out all over you. “Hang on one moment,” he said, his voice muffled by his hand clapped over his mouth.

When he ran out of the room to assess the damage, you held your stomach in hysterical laughter. That was one of the reactions you were expecting. Minutes later, he came back, nose clean and free of blood “Damn, baby, you popped a nosebleed for me?” you laughed. You went up to him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body into his.

He held onto your hips and pressed himself farther into you, making you gasp. Mostly because of the very real, very hard bulge he was now packing in his pants. That was another reaction you were hoping for.

“That ain’t all I’m popping right now,” he playfully whispered against your ear. He pressed a soft kiss there before moving down to your neck, littering your skin in kisses as he did compliments. “You look absolutely amazing, my love. Ravishing, even. No–angelic! Beyond heavenly!”

Now he was yelling. “Okay, Sanji,” you giggled, stopping him from alerting the crew. "I get it.” He pulled away to look down at you, his gaze full of adoration and love that made you melt into your heels. “You are the prettiest angel I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he sighed. “I must be in heaven right now.”

Your hand trailed down to grab his hip, your fingers sneaking under his shirt to press against warm, bare skin and toned muscle. “Not yet,” you purred, “but later.” Sanji shuddered at your touch, pressing his bulge into you fully. “Why later?” he questioned before pressing the slightest kiss on your neck. “Why not now?”

His lips worked your neck as he began to slowly grind into you, emitting a soft whimper from your lips. His big hands toyed with your hips, running over the fake feathers there. “S-Sanji,” you stuttered, “the dinner–“

“Is fine,” he growled against your neck. “I know my cooking, love, and I know it won’t be finished for another twenty-five to thirty minutes. We have plenty of time for that.”

He then pulled away and took your hand, a love-drunk grin on his handsome face that you couldn’t ignore or deny. “Now, my pretty little angel, off to your bedroom so you can take me to heaven.”

And when Sanji took you to his bedroom and slid into your pussy for the first time that night, he could practically see the pearly gates opening for him. Your fake halo and wings shook the harder he fucked you, one hand groping your naked breast while the other gripped your calve.

“Fuck, Sanji!” you shout to the ceiling, seeing stars behind your eyelids as his cock head glides against your G-spot.

Sanji grinned down at you, his gorgeous body coated in a light sheen of sweat and his smile love drunk. “That’s right, angel,” he moaned as he kissed your foot hiked up near his ear. “Take my cock. Let me take you to heaven too.”

Girl, you practically saw Jesus when he was done with you.

LAW (SCHOOLGIRL)

“What’s under the robe?” he asked, squinting confusedly at you. “You’re showering now? I thought you wanted to go to this stupid ass party.”

He sat on the side of his bed in a white tank top that hung loosely on his body, exposing his tatted skin and hard pecs that you love to suck on. You stand in front of him in your fluffy bath rope despite the white stockings underneath. The smile you wore faded at his sour attitude and your hands fell from the flap of your robe.

“Look, if you’re gonna have that attitude, you can stay home,” you scoffed. “I’d have no problem picking up a guy to dance with me in this little get-up.”

You twirled around to stalk toward the bathroom, missing Law’s glare directed at the back of your head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, fire in his eyes. You scoffed once more, annoyed. You knew he was never a party person, but he also knew Halloween was your favorite holiday. The least he could do was act excited for Luffy’s Halloween party.

Supposedly, it was taking place on the Jolly Roger ship in the middle of the ocean and every single one of his friends (which were a lot) were invited, including you and Law. You wanted to look extra cute and sexy tonight, mostly for your man. But so far, he was coming off like he didn’t deserve any of that.

You turned to him, sniffing rudely at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered.

In a poof of nothing, he was gone from his spot on the bed and suddenly standing in front of you and the bathroom door. When you turned around, you nearly slammed into him. “Hey!” you shouted, glaring up at him. But Law could glare like it was his profession, making your stomach flip.

“Don’t play with me like that,” he demanded, not even having to raise his voice. “Now what did you mean by that? And what’s under there?” He cocked a pierced eyebrow at your robe, giving you the impression that he would take it off if you didn’t.

You rolled your eyes, but disrobed yourself anyway. There, you revealed your costume to him––a sexy, slutty schoolgirl outfit with a white top tied at your midsection to show a sliver of tummy and low enough to show off your cherry red bra underneath and a blue plaid mini skirt that stopped at mid-thigh and hiked up slightly in the back, barely covering your asscheeks where matching red lace panties were.

You glared up at Law. “There,” you scoffed. “Happy now?”

Law didn’t answer. He was too busy running his eyes over your tits which practically spilled out of your bra and how you filled out the little school skirt. “It was gonna be a surprise, but then you decided to be a grump and ruin it,” you blandly continued.

You watched his face for a reaction, but it was completely blank. Then again, Law had a poker face that he could’ve been born with. “Where…are your pants?” he carefully asked.

You almost laughed at the randomness of his question. Was he dumb? “In my drawer,” you replied. “Pants would’ve ruined the outfit. That’s why I’ve got stockings.” You pointed down at your skintight, white stockings that Law thought were absolutely adorable and wanted by his ears while he fucked you stupid in your school skirt.

He was still quiet, giving you the impression that he was criticizing your costume. It made you nervous. “So do you like it or…?” Still, he said nothing. But when you went to close your robe again and forget about this whole party, he put a hand on yours, stopping you. “You sure you have to go to this stupid ass party?” he asked.

“Law,” you criticized him, “it’s not–“

“Because I think it’d be may more fun for you to stay here and let me fuck you in this,” he continued without missing a single beat. You paused, blinking at him. “W-What?” you dumbly stuttered.

You now noticed how hooded and dark his gaze had become. He stepped toward you and you instinctively stepped back. “You heard me,” he softly growled. “You talkin’ ‘bout meeting some stranger to spend time with at this party just to spite me, when in reality, they’d have no idea what to do with this.”

He took another step your way and you stepped back, ending up falling into the bed back first. You gasped as you tripped backwards and Law immediately found his perch above you where he stooped down to run his lips over your breasts. “Stop,” you softly whined. “C’mon, Law, I have to–“

Your words died in your throat, replaced with a broken moan as one of Law’s skillful hands traveled down between your thighs to rub your pussy through your panties. He did it slowly; deliberately; taking his sweet time getting you wet as his lips kissed your neck.

“Could he do this?” he asked, still referring to that imaginary guy at the party you probably wouldn’t have met tonight. “Could he make my naughty girl feel like this?”

He nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to gasp. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“No,” you whimpered. “Law, please.” He knew exactly what you were begging for, but he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.

“No, he couldn’t,” he agreed. “And other than a punishment, I think you need some reeducation.” He then rolled off of you, standing before you in all of his big, muscled glory, his cock hard beneath his sweats. “If you wanna be a naughty girl and dress like this, it’s only fair.”

So when he sat down on the bed and patted his lap, you absolutely knew what time it was. You ended up missing the party. Your ass stung too much from Law’s big hand spanking it to walk, your body ached from his rough fucking session to move, and your school skirt was stained with his cum as he pumped his cock all over your ass as he fucked you out of three orgasms.

And you loved every second of it.

SHANKS (SAILOR GIRL)

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Seriously. He’d been playing poker with his crew for an hour and lost three rounds because he kept staring at your fine ass from across the bar.

He just couldn’t get over your little Halloween costume. It looked as if you were a sailor judging by the blue mini skirt that barely covered your plump asscheeks, striped low-cut top where he could just make out the red lace of your bra underneath, suspenders, and sailor hat tipped low over your head. You were standing by the bar laughing with Nami in her mermaid costume, and Robin in her skin-tight cheetah costume that Sanji was all over earlier.

Shanks felt like a old pervert watching you, especially with how his body reacted to the sight of you. His heart thumped and his cock surged in his pants, desperate to feel you. Why the fuck did you have to come here dressed like this of all places? Sure, it was a Halloween party, but it still wasn’t fair! Did you realize what you were doing to him?

“Damn, Shanks!” Yasopp laughed along with Shanks’ crew. “You’re losin’ everything!” Shanks came back to reality, realizing that one of his mates won and took his share of coin, emitting laughter from everyone surrounding him. “That’s the fourth round in a row,” Yasopp pointed out. “You losin’ the magic touch, Captain?”

Shanks didn’t have the energy to defend himself or even give a shit. Not when he could hear your gorgeous laughter from across the bar. At this point, his cock was ready to rip a hole through his pants with how much he was chubbing against the fabric. He stood abruptly, causing Yasopp to look at him like he was crazy. “Just hold my spot,” he said, barely even sparing his crew member a glance. “I’ll be right back.”

Yasopp noticed his captain’s hyper-fixation on a particular point across the bar and turned to see who exactly Shanks had his sights set on. As soon as he saw you in your sailor fit, it hit him. “Ohhh,” he said in realization. He smirked up at Shanks knowingly. “Alright then. Just try not to scare her off.”

Shanks didn’t even give him an answer. He just downed a shot to give him some liquid courage and put on the charm that he knew was there beneath the butterflies you gave him. They, however, only gave him a harder time, fluttering about in a frenzy the closer he got to you. He could smell your perfume now, giving him some very horrible, dirty, nasty visions that he couldn’t wipe away the harder he tried. All he could do was act like you weren’t getting him hard when he finally approached you and the girls.

“Hey, you,” he smoothly said, already putting on as much of the charm as he could while tipsy.

You turned around to face him, holding your rum punch. The glass was stained with your red lipstick that he desperately wanted to see around the head of his cock. “Shanks!” you happily said. “You finally took a break from poker to be with us freaks?”

“More like with one freak in particular,” Nami giggled, giving Shanks a knowing smirk. She knew exactly what he was here for, as did Robin. “We’ll just leave you two alone,” the black-haired beauty said with a sly smile. “We’ll be playing pool if you need us, Y/N.” She gave you a wink before walking off with Nami, leaving you two alone.

You gave Shanks an apologetic smile. “Sorry about them,” you sighed. “They’re very protective.” Your eyes darted to the left while you sipped on your drink. You appeared shy and almost nervous around him. Unbeknownst to you, it made him feel a lot more confident despite his horniness.

“As they should be,” he replied. “Especially in that little get-up.” He nodded at your costume, emitting a cute little giggle from your lips. “So you’re a sailor? I didn’t realize they made skirts that short for ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you said, almost shyly. “Figured I stick to a sea-based aesthetic for my Halloween fit this time around. The skirt was a little too short for my liking, but Nami insisted I wear it.” You picked at the skirt, trying to tug it down over your luscious thighs that Shanks pictured licking on. “Is it too much?” you asked, second guessing.

Shanks wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you didn’t second guess shit about yourself. Didn’t you realize how fucking sexy you were? “Not at all,” he replied. “You look perfect in it.” You smiled lightly at his compliment, making him feel like he won the fucking lottery. “I’m sure all of these other drunk, horny bastards would agree with me,” he chuckled.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What, you’re seriously tellin’ me you ain’t notice all the eyes on you since you walked in here?” he asked. Even he noticed it, especially from Sanji’s perving ass. He made Shanks’ horniness look tame.

“Well, they’re irrelevant anyways,” you said, your pretty, brown eyes trailing down to stare at the floor. Shanks raised an eyebrow at your response. “And why is that?” He asked, his interest piqued.

“Because they’re not you,” you murmured.

Shanks heard you. It was impossible not to with how close he was to you, even over the music and loud chatter in the bar. He was initially shocked by how bold of a statement that was, especially from you, but then he grew even more insatiable for you. Now that he knew that the feeling he felt for you was mutual, he was more than ready to stop the flirty shit and get right to having his tongue down your throat; his hands on your ass; his lips on yours.

But he wanted to hear it again, louder this time. No more of that shy shit. So he stepped closer to you until his chest was right in your line of sight, blocking out everything behind him so you couldn’t escape him. “Sorry, what was that?” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to speak up for me, darlin’. It’s too loud for these old ears to pick up your pretty voice if you’re talkin’ low.”

He could how your body reacted to his words––your breath hitched; your teeth sunk into your bottom lip; your eyes grew hooded as they peered up at him through your lashes. “I said because they’re not you, Captain,” you softly replied, your voice taking on a more seductive tone that Shanks noticed immediately.

Yeah. He was definitely fucking you. He’d take you out for the finest lobster dinner and a nice walk on the town later, but right now? He needed to feel you squeezing around him and your soft, pretty voice letting out those moans he knew were inside of you.

“So you wore this for me, hm?” he questioned. His fingers toyed with your skirt, making your breath hitch again. “Interesting. Maybe we can discuss more about this over a walk?” You looked up at him, your lips still caught between your lips. You didn’t nod or even say yes. You just took his hand when he offered it and let him lead you out of the bar into the night.

Moments later, under the starry sky and in the quietest part of town, miles down away from the bar, you and Shanks find yourselves together with his cock buried deep inside of you and one hand pinning your thigh up against his hip while his other hand had your wrists pinned against a brick wall. Soft moans and gasps left your lips every time his cock slid inside of you, stretching out your wet walls, while he groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Your soft hands gripped his shoulders as his hips nailed into yours, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. You were doing your best to keep quiet, but it felt so good that you just couldn’t. That made him want to cum faster than he planned. “Sorry we couldn’t do this in a nicer place, sugar,” he groaned. “You just look too damn good to pass on.”

His hand slid down under your teeny, tiny skirt to grip and toy with your ass, your panties at your ankles. A shuddering moan escaped your lips as his pelvis rubbed against your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. “Fuck, I don’t care,” you whined into his ear. “Just don’t stop! Please, Shanks!”

Shanks pulled away to look down at you, his body pinning you harder again the wall. “That’s not my name, darlin’,” he sternly said. “Correct yourself or you’ll be missin’ out on an orgasm tonight.” He slowed down his thrusts and he swore that your soul nearly left your body.

“Captain!” you shouted to the starry skies. “Please make me cum, Captain!” He smirked happily at your reaction and his cock surged in response. “That’s much better,” he chuckled. “Now cum on this cock, sugar.”

And you did, right at the same time he burst inside of you, leaving cum dripping down your thighs only covered by the skirt he pulled down for you. The panties though? He kept those.

BUGGY (HARLEY QUINN COSPLAY)

“Is this you coming out as a slut?” he curiously asked. “‘Cause you didn’t have to go through all this trouble, doll face. I already knew.”

He stood in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you stood behind him in the Halloween costume that you were very proud of. You made the outfit and did your makeup yourself. But his reaction sucked all the joy and excitement out of you instantly.

You smacked him upside the head, earning a glare through the bathroom mirror. “Dickhead!” you shouted, irked at him trying hard to peck at your nerves. “It’s my Halloween costume! I’m Harley Quinn!”

You decided to go for the Harley Quinn outfit from the Batman animated series, with the red and black checkered jester one-piece and hat with the cute little pom-poms that dangled from either side of your hat. You paired it with some heeled leather boots and Harley’s mallet which you painted during your downtime. You also did your makeup, painting your lips red and wearing a mask over your eyes that Harley often wore in the show.

You felt cute and sexy. Sexy enough to seduce your clown boyfriend after a night of trick-or-treating…but of course, he had to be a dick and ruin your plans for role-play sex. He turned to you now, standing big and tall so he practically blocked out the sink behind him.

“I don’t know who that is,” he deadpanned. “And were you in my makeup again? ‘Cause that red lipstick looks awfully familiar.” He squinted at your lipstick, running a hand over his blue facial hair.

“No,” you sighed, rolling your eyes behind your mask. “And she’s from Batman. You know the DC comics?” Buggy still stared at you like he had no idea what you were saying. Then a light flickered behind his eyes. “Ohhh, nerdy shit,” he snickered. “Figures as much.”

He turned back around to the bathroom mirror, nearly dripping toothpaste on his wife beater than he filled out completely. Seriously: Buggy is huge. Anytime you stood near him, he made you feel like an ant (which also turned you on). “Says the guy who walks around in clown makeup,” you retorted. “The only nerd here is you, Buggy.”

He smirked in the mirror as he spat in the sink bowl and then dabbed at his mouth with a towel. “And yet people still tremble at the sight of me,” he cockily chuckled. He turned back around to face you, his eyes trailing over how your body filled out the jester suit. “So now what? Am I supposed to fuck you or something?”

You scoffed at his brazen words, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh, my God, you’re horrible,” you groaned, frustrated. “You’re supposed to take me out trick-or-treating!”

Buggy’s eyes widened at you and your plan. ”In that?” he asked, surprised that you even came up with such an idea. You nodded, not at all piecing together how much the suit stuck to your form. It left nothing for imagination, your titties and ass pushing against the fabric. “In that suit, you’d be getting more than just candy, sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back around to fix his ponytail. He took the aqua-blue locks out of his hairband, letting it fall down his back.

You glared at him, wondering why you even tried in the first place…until an idea came to mind. You smirked at him as he continued to ignore you and prep himself. “Oh, I bet I would,” you purred. “All the fathers out there, especially, will probably be very happy to see me and give me every single bit of their candy.”

Buggy stopped moving entirely, leaving his hair out of its ponytail. “Maybe Shanks would appreciate my costume a little more, you think?” you asked. “Maybe I should see for myself.”

You turned to walk out of the bathroom, a giddy smile on your face as you laughed to yourself. That smile fell from your face the moment Buggy’s disembodied hand zoomed across the room to wrap around your throat. It squeezed, hard, emitting a gasp from you as you struggled to breathe. Buggy’s heavy footfalls thudded behind you as he came up to you.

“Say that again, slut,” he growled. “You know damn well that redheaded bitch couldn’t do shit with you. You’re way too much of a deviant little cockslut for him.”

His hand squeezed your throat tighter, making you squeak out a noise between a gasp and a whimper. His other hand slid down between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating there. “Admit it,” he demanded.

His grip loosened, giving you a chance to breathe. And be a fucking brat. “Not until you admit how much you love this costume,” you weakly shot back.

Buggy pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on that slid against your lower back.

“Maybe,” he sighed. “After I’m done fucking that mouth until this makeup runs.” He turned your face to his and ran a thumb over your lips, smudging your lipstick. “Maybe then I’ll love this stupid costume even more.”

A devious glint appeared in his eyes, giving you a taste of what was to come next for you.

#smutty smut #my works #my one shots #one piece smut #one piece one shots #fem!reader #spooky season

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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months ago

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Haunting Candles

(Astarion x Ghost F! Reader)

Synopsis: (Pre- Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me) You have been haunting Szarr palace for a couple centuries now when Astarion Ancunin arrives. After being a recluse for the last 100 or so odd years, you make your first friend and Astarion finds comfort in your presence.

CW: Dead dove (Astarion's trauma), OOC (a squeeze) because it's when Astarion first arrived at Szarr Palace

Author note: This is one of the little one shots I threw out. I have a few so I may post my next one tomorrow. A couple of them are when you were a ghost in Szarr Palace and the others are when you possessed a cat to warn Astarion. This is independent from the main work. It is also not very well edited due to me making myself finally post something before my anxiety stopped me.

You didn’t know what Cazador was making Aurelia do until Astarion arrived. It had been a freak kind of accident, if anything and it had been what had made you finally decide to make your presence known. Astarion had only been there for two weeks at this point- trying to negotiate or find a way to escape has earned him a lot of time in the Kennels.

You had heard sobbing from the Spawn Dorm and so you decided to check. Aurelia was already fast asleep- trying to find some freedom from this shitty palace. It was Astarion who was crying.

He was laying on his bunk with his knees to his chest- he looked so sad and disgusted. His nails were chewed down to the quick. He had brought someone home, was given dinner, and you know that Cazador took him to the kennels. You haven’t been paying attention to a lot of the specific happenings around the palace- you stopped after Vellioth’s torture methods became worse and worse. It was better to be ignorant than feel helpless and watch someone you are unable to help be hurt.

But this was different.

His shirt was lying next to him on the floor and it was ripped from his rough washing. A needle and thread was in his hands, but he was sobbing just too hard to keep his hand steady enough.

A small stream of smoke was going up towards the ceiling from his candle. You knew he could see just fine, but you also hadn’t thought about a candle being a luxury in almost a century.

So, like the responsible little house ghost you are, you lit the flame again. This time it came back stronger and warmer- it almost seemed to engulf the room in the feelings of comfort and safety.

His sobs began to die down and he sat up- staring at the candle in shock. Astarion looks around wearily, but he seems to feel the same energy in the room.

“Th-thank you,” he said roughly, “whoever did that.”

With his trembling hands and lower lip, Astarion began his work on his shirt. You sat next to him on the bed- making sure the candle on the box he found remained lit as he sat crisscrossed with his back against the wall.

Eventually, he began talking.

“This might be entirely… ridiculous,” he murmured, “but if there is a person here- can you move the flame to the left?”

You turned it to the right as a joke and he actually chuckled- a real smile on his face for the first time since he began living here.

“So you have a sense of humor- I suppose you would have to, living in a place this grim,” he grimaced, “are you friendly or the kind of ghost that possesses people?”

How in the Hells were you supposed to answer that with only a flame to communicate?

“Oh- uh right,” he seemed to have the exact same thought, “left for good, right for… inconvenient.”

Left, obviously. You wouldn’t consider yourself inconvenient and you do not care for possessing any living creature as far as you know.

“That is good to know- tell me- does law interest you? Left for yes, right for no, and no movement for you wouldn’t know.”

The candle didn’t move- you were clueless when it came to that kind of stuff, but you were willing to learn if it would make him happy.

“Interesting,” he tilts his head, “would you like to lea-“

You had the candle going far left before he could finish his sentence and his smile became even brighter. Astarion immediately began to dive in, explaining the basics, and then talking about a recent court case he read about in a book about crime in Neverwinter.

“Chickens- can you believe that?” He scoffed, “they arrested chickens for a whole week because they were convinced it was a group of Druids that had attacked that old woman.

“Nope- just her angry hens. Maybe the bird seed went bad”

He couldn’t hear you laughing, but the way he told the story had you in stitches. He described all the evidence in great detail, as well as the commentary from the magistrate and the chickens. He added his own flare, you are sure, but by the end, his shirt was stitched and he was smiling.

He put his shirt on, but then he frowned, staring at the candle.

“You are going to stay, right?” He asked, “I- I don’t want to be alone.”

You were surprised by his request, but you dimmed the candle ever so slightly and flickered it to the left. Astarion looks emotional again, but he lies down for his trance.

You felt the energy in the room grow as you began feeling happier. It’s been a long time since you have been able to communicate with anyone and being able to make someone happy? Well, it's an improvement to what you were usually doing.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you let the candle go out and you walked around the castle- suddenly very determined to protect Astarion as much as you can.

******************************************************************************************************

It has been a month since that night and you have remained close, but not too close. Especially after it was obvious he had seen you while Cazador carved a symbol into his back.

The man is exceptionally clever- it doesn’t seem to matter where you hide. Astarion is aware that you are here and that you have helped him- he is determined to find you.

You can only really interact with a number of things- anything in the home seems to be fair game, but you can’t directly interact with people and they don’t seem to realize you are there. You dropped books on Cazador’s head once for a month when he was a spawn trying to get his attention to stop him from turning into an evil jackass- it never clicked.

Astarion, on the other hand, has seemed to figure out which books on the shelf you are reading because he is currently holding the third book in the series like a shield. He looks rather pleased with himself too.

You scoff- not that he can hear you- but come on! It is the one thing you can do and at least new books keep cycling in and out now. Astarion has been putting ones he finds on his ‘outings’ on the shelf.

He must be paying attention to which books are missing from the shelves. That is the only way he would know that you are on the third one.

“I can feel your presence, you know.”

“Yeah I got that,” you retort, “can I have the book?”

Oh right- he can’t hear you. He just walks off towards the Garden with the book. You walk after him- absolutely infuriated with his literature cockblocking. Cazador has been gone for a few days now and won’t be back until the end of the week. He is confident they won’t leave and unfortunately, neither Aurelia or Astarion have tried. You wished they would, but Astarion doesn’t want to go to the Kennels.

Astarion sits on a bench in the Garden and begins to open the book, flipping through the pages.

“You better not spoil this for me!” You scream into nothingness, “I have been waiting to grab this book since Cazador left!”

“Romance novels?” Astarion scowls, “Darling, this is a travesty, truly. What are you- a hundred year old virgin?”

Unfortunately, yes, but he doesn’t need to know that!

“But I suppose if this is what you want to read,” he sighs dramatically, “I will oblige.”

What?

Astarion is looking at you- well, the space you occupy- he is really quite in tune with where your energy is. It’s a little bit unsettling, but it also makes you a bit happy? It’s nice to be wanted and actively sought out.

You wearily step towards the bench and sit down. He smiles at the space next to him, clears his throat and begins reading.

“Guinevere- okay first of all, an utter cliche for a heroine- strides across the meadow and the summer sun warms her skin. The smell of rain and grass tickles her nose, but it will never be the cologne of Barron,” he puts his hand against his head dramatically before saying the next line, “her one and only true love- the man that owns her entire heart and she would do anything for.”

You are somewhere between embarrassed and entertained. He adds commentary here and there, but mostly reads and adds silly voices. You haven’t ever seen this side of him- you have seen it in sparks, but Cazador snuffs it out every time. He doesn’t find Astarion entertaining in the traditional sense, but you? You could listen to him read for all of eternity and then some.

You sit and listen to him read all night- only going inside when the sky is suddenly getting lighter and the day threatens to light him on fire.

You walk with him to the Spawn dorm and he holds the book tightly to his chest- his eyes darting back and forth. He must be looking for Godey.

He doesn’t relax until you reach the Spawn dorm and he is able to put the book between the wall and the mattress. Astarion releases a sigh of relief before laying down to rest. You can feel the peace radiating off of him- there is still some discomfort, but it is not as unbearable as it was before.

“Please stay,” he asks, “I know you have been, but I-I am a bit worried you might be mad I stole your book.”

You roll your eyes and lay down in the bed next to him on your side. As if subconsciously, he pushes an arm out and he looks nervous.

Is he asking for me to cuddle?

You slot your invisible figure into the spot and lay your head on his chest- your arm lays loosely across his torso. You wonder if this is comforting for him- you feel comforted.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for being here.”

Astarion falls asleep rather quickly- unusual for him. You try to convince yourself to leave, but you really don’t want to. You feel warm here, safe. It feels nice and you even find yourself dozing off.

You let sleep take you, unaware of the emotional grave you have dug yourself.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f! tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female reader

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gay-jesus-probably · 2 months ago

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Reblogging that one post about obvious scams posing as desperate Palestinian people begging for financial aid was a terrible mistake. Pretty sure most of them are just bots that automatically target anyone that posts about helping Palestine, regardless of the context, because as soon as I reblogged that damn post, my inbox started blowing the fuck up with scammers pleading for money. And my messages. And they've started @-ing me on their shitty scam posts.

And yes, I fucking KNOW they're scammers, because this has involved fun things like two different blogs sending me the exact same sob story, to the point of using the exact same emoji spam (and yes, both of those blogs were still active, i checked), and another blog sending me the same emoji-laden plea three times in a row, with several hours in between. Not to mention several of the scam bot messages have opened with thanking me for sharing so many Palestine fundraisers already, which is pretty fucking weird given that I have explicitly not been doing that, because they are almost entirely scam bots.

...And now I've made the terrible mistake of mentioning Palestinian relief aid again, so I'm sure I can expect a fresh wave of bots any minute now.

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baronessblixen · 2 months ago

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Fictober Day 4: Reasonable Requests

Prompt: "No, we're not doing that"

Post-ep for "Rain King": After Holman and Sheila finally get together, Mulder and Scully have their own romantic moment. Unfortunately, Scully also has doubts. Rating T, wc: 1,418.

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

The rain has stopped and the clouds have made way for a clear, starry night. Mulder gazes at the stars, smiling and humming “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”.

They’d see a rainbow now too if it weren’t nighttime, he’s sure of it. He catches a shooting star and mentally high-fives Holman, unable to suppress a grin. But he’s not concerned with Holman, or Sheila right now; instead, he glances at Scully. He almost asked her to dance with him back inside, but didn’t dare. Here he is, offering Holman advice about not bottling up his feelings while doing the exact same thing.

“Are you ready to drive back to the motel?” Scully asks him, her arms slung around her body.

“Are you cold?” He’s by her side in an instant, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She frowns, shooting him a sharp look.

“It is still you, right?”

“Is it- yes, Scully, it’s still me. Do you want me to prove it to you?” She remains quiet. But her eyes seem to challenge him. “Fine.” He’s trying to come up with something easy and fun. There are so many things they’ve gone through together, many if not most of them tragic. He doesn’t want that for tonight. Right now, when Shelia and Holman are learning they’re in love with each other, when couples old and new are dancing together to some old romantic song, he doesn’t want to break the spell.

“You got me a ‘Fun Facts About Cryptids’ book for Christmas and I read some to you until you fell asleep. I woke you when your mother called, asking where you are. She wanted me to join you for Christmas, but I politely declined.” They stare at each other and when Mulder sees the soft flush on her cheeks, he can’t help but wonder what she’s remembering about that night. Maybe the way he touched her cheek to wake her and the way she tilted her head, seeking out his touch until she realized where she was, and what she was doing. A moment he cherishes.

“Believe me now?” Mulder whispers close to her ear, a grin on his face.

“I believe you.” She lets his jacket swallow her whole and it’s on the tip of his tongue to call her cute. But that would just lead to more questions cause she’d think he was an impostor after all.

“So Scully,” he says, opening the car door for her which earns him another eyebrow. “When’s your high school reunion?”

“Not anytime soon. When’s yours?”

“I think I already missed it,” Mulder says, starting the car. “Not interested in going. Would you go to yours?”

“Probably,” Scully replies with a sigh.

“If you need a date,” he trails off, winking at her before he starts the car.

“What’s with you tonight, Mulder?” Her eyes remain on him, but he’s focusing on the road. It seems as if everyone is at the reunion because the roads are empty and it takes them less than five minutes to get back to their motel. Five minutes in which Mulder doesn’t answer her.

“I’m just happy,” he replies finally, admitting it to her and himself.

“Because of Holman and Sheila.” It’s not a question.

“Just- no one died, Scully. It’s the opposite. Love won.”

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she says softly, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. Mulder does the same; he wanted to open the car door for her again but realizes that maybe it would have been too much anyway. He locks the car and jogs over, falling into step with her.

“Hm, maybe I’m not the only romantic here. What did you tell Sheila?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Scully isn’t looking at him, but she’s smiling. She’s rummaging around in her pocket to find the key. Their key. “Mulder, do you have the key?” He might have the key, he realizes. It could be in his pocket, but right now, he doesn’t care. Standing here in front of this hotel room – their one, shared room – with Scully wearing his jacket, her hair falling into her face and her trying to blow it away, he has an epiphany. Everything else falls by the wayside. There’s only one thing that matters to him at this moment and it’s Scully. It’s about righting a wrong. It’s about taking a chance. Leaping before he can think better of it.

“Scully?”

“Yes?” She lifts her head and her blue eyes are big and wet and questioning. She thinks this is about the key to their motel room. To Mulder, it’s about unlocking new mysteries of the heart. He gently cups her chin and she gasps. A second passes and another. She doesn’t move away and just stares up at him, her lips parting slightly. When her tongue comes out to wet them, it’s his cue. He leans down slowly, giving her all the time in the world to change her mind or move away. She does neither. Instead, she meets him halfway.

He’s kissed her in his dreams once; a hallucination, as Scully called it. Supposedly he was drowning and later on, high as a kite. Kissing her now, though, he is surprised at how oddly familiar it feels. Her lips soft and plush, following his every movement, anticipating him. Their tongues tease and tangle, getting to know each other better and better. He never wants this kiss to end. He tugs her closer to him and she comes willingly. It’s only when his hand sneaks under her jacket – his, really – that she moves away, ending the kiss.

Mulder is still holding her and she’s staring at his eyes, then his lips. Just as he’s about to lean in again, she moves away from him, sneaks under his arm, and stands next to the door.

“Where is that damn key?” she mumbles, searching every available pocket.

“Here,” he says, handing it to her. It had been in his own pocket after all. She grabs it from him and startles when their fingers touch. She unlocks the door with shaky movements and disappears inside.

“I’m just gonna-,” she starts as soon as Mulder has closed the door behind him. “The bathroom. I’m going to get ready for, um, bed. We can just… I mean nothing happened. We can just pretend that we didn’t- it was an emotional night.” It takes Mulder a moment to understand what she’s saying. Her eyes are wild and she still has the key in her hand, playing with it. She looks ready to run out of the room and not come back all night.

Scully, I-” But what is he supposed to say? He licks his lips and tastes her. He can’t forget this happened, because he doesn’t want to forget it.

“So we’re clear on that,” she says matter-of-factly. “Nothing happened. It wasn’t- we’re going to forget this happened.”

“No, we’re not doing that,” he says softly. “I’m not going to forget this happened. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, Scully. You were there in my hallway.” She looks at the floor, but he sees her nod. He takes his second big chance tonight and walks closer.

“We can leave it at that one kiss,” he says, touching her cheek. Her lips still look thoroughly kissed and he has to focus to not lose himself there again. “One spectacular kiss, I must say. But we can decide to leave it at that. If that’s what you want. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen, Scully. I can’t.”

“I don’t want to pretend either,” she says. “I’m just not sure we should-” she looks at him and then over at the bed. Oh. Oh, she’s thinking ahead of him. This time he blushes.

“Scully, we waited all this time to kiss. We don’t- this doesn’t have to be anything but- fuck, let’s call it a goodnight kiss, all right? How about we start with that? Kissing good night?”

“A romantic and a gentleman?” There’s his Scully again, gently teasing him.

“I can be,” he says earnestly.

“Thank you,” she says. “We’re still technically on a case and- I don’t trust this bed, or the weather around here.”

“Can I give you another kiss goodnight, though, before I lay down on that not-very comfortable cot? Just in case another cow tries to kill me tonight.”

“A kiss goodnight sounds reasonable.”

And they’re reasonable people after all.

#fictober24 #my writing #my fic #my bread and butter #cause this is FLUFF #and UST #and i had a lot of fun #msr #xf fanfic

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ineffable-suffering · 1 year ago

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Let me at first put a small index for you here, since this is a three part meta and you might want to read the posts that precede this one:

Part 1: The Story of Job

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

... and now: Welcome to the final Part 3! We made it! Or well, we will have, soon-ish. Because let me give you a fair warning: This one is definitely the longest one out of the three. And by long I mean literally almost 5k words long. Mainly because there's a lot to work with since the 1941 minisode is less mini and more the entirety of S2E4 and also, in my opinion, needs a lot more context than the others. But! That shan't discourage me, as I am currently stuck in bed with a bit of a sore throat, a steaming cuppa tea and an entire afternoon to spare.

So, for the third and final time in this meta series: Let's get cracking! Under! The! Cut!

I shall spare you another summary of the points I have made so far and, should you not have read or remembered them, I kindly redirect you to the end of Part 1 and the beginning & end of Part 2, where I summarize most of it. Don't worry, the link to this post will be in both of them, so you can hop right back once you're done!

On commence with some needed context.

I think one of the most important things to point out at the very beginning here, is that unlike with the other minisodes, we don't have a direct indicator that this is once again one of Aziraphale's memories or diary entries. In the Story of Job, we see him read the part in the Bible and actively immersing himself into the flashbacks (so deeply, even, that Crowley leaves in between, since Aziraphale seems to be so intensely lost in thought). And the Story of wee Morag is being narrated to us by past Aziraphale's diary entry.

All we see before the start of this episode's minisode, however, is Aziraphale driving the Bentley before Shax unconsensually hitchhikes with him and then leaves again. The title squence rolls and we're in London, 1941. And once the minisode ends, it's also not with Aziraphale looking like he just remembered something or a shot of his diary, but instead with present day Shax going to Beelzebub to request permission for the attack on the bookshop and then Aziraphale arriving in Soho, back from his trip to Edinburgh.

It's safe to say, therefore, that these two somehow indicate why and when the 1941 flashback starts and ends the way it does. And they do! You just have to listen and look closely, because the hint of whose memory this is, is a bit more subtle. Let's take it bit by bit.

Shax reveals herself to Aziraphale, catching him off guard. ("You have the advantage on me." "I do, yes.") She then go on to introduce herself as "former admissions demon" and ...

"Now, a Hell's ambassador planner, potentially plenipotentiary* to this corner of the planet. Replacing the demon Crowley."

*(Thank you for pointing this subtitle error out in the comments, @odonataanisoptera!)

At first sight, this might seem like no new information. We already know this, we have seen Crowley and Shax talk multiple times, we know Shax is Crowley's hellish successor and we know Shax now lives in Crowley's flat in Mayfair and, due to that unfortunate circumstance, Crowley in his car. You know who doesn't know this yet?

That's right: Aziraphale!

Neil himself confirmed that the reason why Aziraphale hasn't yet asked Crowley to move into the bookshop is because he doesn't know Crowley is living in his car! Which also indirectly implies that he hasn't told Aziraphale yet that he's no longer Hell's representative on Earth! Massive communication issues aside, this means that four years after Armagedidn't, Aziraphale is realizing for the very first time that Crowley is no longer officially employed by Hell.

Which is quite big news! We don't really know what Aziraphale's exact state of employment is with Heaven, but we do know from Crowley saying so (to Shax, again) in S2E1, that they no longer talk to him and he no longer reports back to them about his work. We can therefore deduct that he isn't actively operating as Heaven's ambassador on Earth anymore – on Heaven's own volition.

After they pulled off their body swap stunt post Armagedidn't, Crowley and Aziraphale of course secured themselves some temporary freedom from both Heaven and Hell. But it was only ever that, right? Temporary. Crowley says so himself at the end of Season 1: "They'll leave us alone ... for a bit." Sure, they were both sort of free to do whatever they wanted, but up until this very moment in the Bentley with Shax, Aziraphale thought he was the only one out of the two of them who had not only been let off the leash a little but also, so to speak, let go from his former employment. Which really explains his genuine, surprised look once Shax lets him know she's officially Crowley's replacement.

Their body swap trick gave them some breathing space, yes, but that's still entirely different than actually officially being let go from your job obligations and duties. What Aziraphale doesn't know either, however, (because again, Mr. Anthony J. Can't-Communicate-Crowley hasn't let him known), is that despite having been replaced and technically absolved of his hellish duties, Hell still very much relies on and demands things of Crowley. And also that Crowley himself hasn't been able to drop his weariness and worries since he still seems to seek out any and every information he can get on what's going on in the Up and Down. David Tennant said in an interview about Season 2:

"[...] interestingly, when we first meet Crowley, he's on a park bench catching up with the person who's taken his job. He obviously can't quite let go. He still wants the updates, and he still wants to know what's going on."

There's just so awfully much Crowley isn't telling Aziraphale – but that's stuff for another meta.

Either way, it eeks me a bit that we don't certainly know how much and what exactly Crowley has told Arziraphale about Shax – but it clearly can't have been all to much, since the Bentley conversation is their first encounter and Aziraphale doesn't even seem to know what Shax looks like, let alone that she's Crowley's new replacement. Crowley must have mentioned her to Aziraphale at one point or another pre-S2, because he does name-drop her when Aziraphale is about to reveal the appearance of Jimbriel ("You'll never guess who Shax was asking me about").

But it's one thing for Aziraphale to know or deduce that Hell might still occasionally send someone (like Shax) to check in on Crowley and another thing for him to not know that Beelzebub still summons Crowley whenever they feel like it, trying to coerce/blackmail him and that Shax regularly follows, even threats Crowley and lives in his goddamn apartment because she now fully replaces Crowley in his former job.

So, to sum this up: Aziraphale just received quite a bit of news Crowley withheld from him until now, but is also still lacking some other context that neither Crowley nor Shax has given him yet in order to be aware of the full picture.

Now, you're probably wondering: What the f*ck are you on about, OP, what does this have to do with the memory and narration analysis that this whole meta is supposed to be about? Well, dear reader, I'll kindly ask you to just hold onto that thought I outlined here until a little later. Tuck it in your pocket, don't worry, I'll remind you to take it out again once it's time.

Despite looking clearly incredibly surprised and, what is is again– ah, yes, flabbergasted upon hearing of Crowley's replacement, Aziraphale only reacts with a short "Ah", trying not to give away the fact that this is indeed very much news to him. He then continues to try and deflect anything Shax is saying and suggesting about Crowley. Except for the part where Shax says that she doesn't think Aziraphale seems like Crowley's type at all. And I cannot, for the absolute life of me, keep that GIF out of here, so:

God, how I adore you, Mr. Sheen, master of immaculate microexpressions.

Alright, let's move on from the brief flash of sassy angel, onto what Shax says next. Because this is the crucial part:

"You know ... what, sometime in the last 80, 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur. He thought you were his ticket to the big time."

Which Aziraphale replies to:

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

But you do, Aziraphale, don't you? Of course you do. How could he forget the time he almost got Crowley caught together with him by Hell ("Fraternising!") in what was probably one of their most insane and turbulent adventures (that we know of, at least). And now he knows that Shax knows about it too! At least some of it, because she used to work together with Furfur and was the one who pushed him to do his investigation in the first place.

We end their little Bentley encounter with Shax getting out, cryptically saying "You've already told me where Gabriel is" and Aziraphale hurriedly speeding off back to London.

I'd like to briefly point out that according to Google Maps, Edinburgh is almost an 8-hour drive away from London. Of course we don't know where exactly Shax semi-grand-theft-auto'ed into the Bentley, but it's safe to say that since it's still dark when she does and Aziraphale arrives in London when it's light out and morning already, he must have at least been driving for another couple of hours. All by himself, with nothing to think of other than a) Crowley never having told him that he's been relieved of Hell's duties and –– you guessed it –– b) what happened in 1941.

And here's where it gets interesting: It's not just Aziraphale who's remembering 1941. It's Shax, too. It hit me like a ton of bricks, once I realized. Shax is the one who brings up 1941 and Furfur's mission to get his promotion. So everything we see that happens in Hell, with the Nazi spies being processed, are Shax's memories. Obviously Aziraphale couldn't have known or remembered any of that. But Shax could! And she does. Because this entire minisode is their shared memory of it, stitched together with the parts both of them actually witnessed.

And alas, here you have it: The reason why it makes so much sense that this minisode is so much longer than the last ones and also happens right after Aziraphale's encounter with Shax. They both were just very much reminded of what went down all those years ago. And they're both thinking back on it to come to some sort of conclusion. And funnily enough, it ends up being the same one – but I'll get into that in a bit too.

Aziraphale's got time to kill in the Bentley. A few good and long hours alone, with the knowledge of Crowley's and his own sort-of-newly-found freedom at the back of his mind. (Crowley! No longer bound to Hell! Himself! No longer bound to Heaven! Blimey!)

What else would Aziraphale think of, if not the time he realized, after the demon had saved his precious books, he was utterly and irrevocably in love with Crowley. And what else could Shax think of on her way back to London, if not the time Hell almost got proof of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item", putting one of her colleagues onto investigating it and only now, decades later, coming to realize that it was true after all – giving her the confirmation that there was only one place Crowley would hide Gabriel while Aziraphale was gone: the Bookshop. Aziraphale's bookshop. Because if there's any demon that would have unrestricted access to it, it would be Crowley – as Shax has just now realized.

Let's just say it's no wonder that this minisode is about to be an explosion (pun intended) of all the things we have seen and realized about how Aziraphale capital-r Remembers things (ft. a bit more behind the scene knowledge, provided by Shax). And yes, it took me this absolutely ridiculous amount of time and words to get to the actual beginning of this minisode. But I'll be as bold as to say that you'll thank me for it because if there's one thing all of this teaches us, it's that context is so very important for memories and decision making.

... let's continue!

Title sequence: Rolled. London, 1941: Begins. Nazis in the church: Bombed. Books: Saved.

(Aziraphale: in Love.)

Right away again, the title card for "London 1941" looks like an old black and white film, similar to the retro hue and colouring of the Job episode in S2E2. We see what we saw already in Season 1, with the bomb dropping and Crowley saving the books. What we didn't know is what Shax's memory will now show us: How the Nazi spies were processed in Hell. And how she offered to help Furfur with being promoted if he could get her some intel on "some demon being up to no good."

I have yet to fully take my time to take a closer look at Shax, but I think she's a lot more competent and smart than Hell gives her credit for (similar to Saraqael in Heaven). How else would she have gotten word of A Certain Suspicious Demon while she was still an admissions demon herself. Or figured out simply by Crowley's Bentley not being at the bookshop in S2E3 that Aziraphale must be the one who'd currently be driving it somewhere. But okay, I really don't want to divert too much from my own plot here, so let's jump right ahead into our next scene: Aziraphale's first memory in this minisode.

I'm just gonna play Captian Obvious for a second here: There's literal sparks flying in the air. Red, firey, passionate sparks. And an angel looking like this:

I'll just let the imagery do the talking.

Now we have that love-birdery out of the way: I was at first going to once again call bullsh*t on the timeline our dear smitten Aziraphale is giving us here. Because I thought: "You're really gonna try and tell me that while there was an actual Blitzkrieg happening just down the block, the girls playing Ladies of Camelot had nothing better to do than to happily perform at the Westend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened?"

But the answer is ... yes. Yes, they literally had nothing better to do – because they were still performing! I chastised our dear angel too soon, because lookie here:

(Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windmill_Theatre)

I indeed didn't know that the Windmill Theater remained open during WW2 –– but it did put a smile on my face that the article specifically mentions it remaining open even during the hight of the Blitzkrieg. Neil, you clever man!

Also, one last nugget of appreciation: Aziraphale most definitely having no clue what sort of performances actually happened at the Windmill Theater (in case you don't know, just check Wikipedia for a sec), exclaiming "Sophocles! Shakespeare!" and Crowley simply going "Something like that" just warms my heart infinitely.

Fondly thinking about Aziraphale asking Mrs. Sandwich: "What exactly is it that your girls do?"

Another thing that seemed strange to me at first, that I think I also managed to semi-debunk, is the fact that Crowley's Bad Deed of that day seems to have been to deliver 80-percent-proof alcohol to the Windmill Theater. It made me frown and go: "Huh? I don't think alcohol was illegal in England in 1941?" However, upon googling around a bit, I think it might actually be not so much about the alcohol itself, but who it was given to. Which, in this case, is the American soldiers frequenting the nude shows at the Windmill Theater. All I could find were some books and essays, one of them titled "The Wet War: American Liquor Control, 1941–1945", as well as this short abstract of a paper that seems to talk about how American soldies consuming alcohol while at war/stationed abroad for WW2 were frowned upon by US Army chaplains because "the impact that alcohol would have on the men's moral well-being".

So, it would make sense for Hell to send a certain alcoholic temptation to one of the dens of temptation itself – the Windmill Theater. Enter Anthony J. Crowley, your local Nazi-church-bomber, book-saver, angel-seducer and alcohol-smuggler. (Albeit that last one sort of failing a little. Sorry, Mrs. H.)

(Sidenote: @createserenity gave a lovely and very plausible explanation of the whole alcohol delivery and also who Crowley's character design might have been based on in the comments of this post!)

Aziraphale then of course jumps in, offering to be the magician of the evening to repay his "good friend" (sideye), waving around his little handkerchief like an excited little boy. ("Ah, the ��theatér✨!") We also get the first zombie!Nazis content, which I believe is probably a reconstruction of what the zombie!Nazis told Furfur once they met up with him again and what Furfur then probably told Shax once he failed his mission. Brains eaten, we continue to this glorious line:

He's just so very excited and giddy about it all – and I think that's partly because he a) just realized that Crowley loves him (and he very much loves Crowley too) and b) because Bentley!Aziraphale who is remembering this, probably remembers it even more fondly and giddily. We've seen his emotions bubble over a lot more during the other minisode-memories – so it only makes sense that in this one, he's remembering himself to be almost out of his mind with happiness and excitement about Crowley the magic show.

Remember what I asked you to tuck into your pocket?

Take it out again. Go on, there's a love! Because what is it that Aziraphale realized mere moments ago during his conversation with Shax? Crowley is free of Hell.* (*and remember, he doesn't know that that's not entirely true because no one told him the rest of the facts. So yes, we know it's not quite as simple – but Aziraphale doesn't.)

For all of S2, he has been trying to bring his relationship with Crowley to a new, more domestically intimate level (our car!), confidently and potentially even a bit carelessly ignoring the still-very-much-there threats of Heaven and Hell. I think one of the things that might have still been holding him back in his attempts to get to the next base (huehue) was the fact that he thought Crowley was still actively employed by and tied to Hell.

In all of S2, Aziraphale does come across as a little bit blinded by his desire to finally be with-be with Crowley (rose-tined glasses obstructing the view and all) but he's not completely carless. He knows Hell to be way more cruel to their employees and has always been careful to not get Crowley into too much trouble by being associated with him. But now he has (a little falsely) deducted that Crowley is in fact no longer in hellish demand – and isn't that just absolutely tickety-boo! Lacking the context that we, the audience, have, Arziraphale.exe is currently running hot on: Heaven and Hell don't care about Crowley and me anymore! We're free of our employers' interest in us and the threat that used to bring!! I've been trying to lock this serpent down ever since the World didn't end – and now I finally can!!! I'm We're able to do whatever I we like which is to finally confess to Crowley!!!!

From Bentley!Aziraphale's point of view, this is the literal green light on their highway to Alpha Centauri! Metaphorically, anyway. More like their country road to the Southdowns. And, for now, the M1 to London– back, back, back to Crowley!

For a minute, I did wonder about why he doesn't seem at all worried or stressed once he arrives in London after his journey. After all, Shax did very clearly threaten him and insinuated that she already knew where Gabriel was. But if you look at Aziraphale all throughout Season 2, it's so very evident that he's completely occupied with being soppily nostalgic of all the memories he recalls of him and Crowley and, even while facing off with Heaven and Hell again, seems oh too happy to ignore all that because he only has eyes for one thing.

Need I say more?

So, of course, realistically Aziraphale should probably be worried and weary of what Shax said (and maybe also a little taken aback by the fact that Crowley never told him any of this). But oh, isn't the world just that much lovelier when you look at it through shades of yellow and rose? And ignore everything else because if you only look at what you want to look at, both you and the serpent of your dreams are finally free to be together? So, of course! Azirapahle should be so! Very! Concerned! But instead, he is so! Very! Happy!

Both back in actual 1941, after Crowley saves his books, as well as in his memory of the story, aka in the current present day – which we don't get to see until he leaves the Bentley, but then it does show.

And it shows even more while he's still remembering 1941:

Crowley doing an American accent? Oh, that must have been so funny and charming, look at him slapping his thigh, unbuttoning his jacket, leaning back all suavely and watching me– I mean ... the Ladies of Camelot.

There's this excellent meta by @cobragardens I read on the colours of red and yellow in this 1941 minisode as well, which further makes a point of how red is clearly Crowley's colour in Aziraphale's mind – and it's so, so vibrant in this memory specifically. Poor angel has really got it bad for his beloved book-saving demon.

I'd also like to point out Aziraphale's tendency to exaggerate again, both when it comes to others and himself. We see this in the other minisodes as well, and here again, when he seems almost overly-clumsy, dropping those big trick-rings twice, making a tower of cards topple over and then dropping even more things on the counter. This is probably just a bit of a projection how he might have been feeling about performing as a magician: Slightly nervous, trying to overplay it and yet very keen on getting it right.

Crowley seems to always just be watching silently when memory!Aziraphale is acting a little out of character – possibly because there was no actual reaction from him since these slightly overdramatic things weren't actually this dramatic in the first place.

Another thing I would very much take with a grain of angelic memory salt, is one of the Nazi zombies actually walking into the shop while Crowley and Aziraphale are still in there. First of all, that would be pretty bold of him/them, given there's only three people in this tiny shop. And second of all, don't you think it's odd that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley would notice a literal undead person sauntering into the shop? I'll give Aziraphale the benefit of the doubt, since he's currently on cloud nine. But Crowley? How on Earth would he miss that?

Unless the zombie never actually went into the shop, put on silly costumes and rings (because given their track record, in my opinion, goofing around is a very un-Nazi-like thing to do) and it's just what the autopilot of Aziraphale's daydream is playing in the background, to fill in the gap for how the zombie!Nazis figured out where his magic show would take place. Because as we already saw, Aziraphale is a bit, well ... busy in that moment.

This GIF is not sped up, by the way, that is indeed the absolute astronomical speed Aziraphale shook Crowley's hand with when he agreed to pretend to shoot him on a live stage. He's my favourite. Of all time.

Alas, the curtains at the Windmill Theater draw aside, ladies and gentlemen: Enter Fell the Marvellous!

Firstly, I would like to point out that Aziraphale is literally being surrounded by all things Crowley – the red curtain to his back, the red and black feathers to his left and right and, well, literal Crowley in the audience to his front.

Just another little ode to how beautifully this whole minisode is done colour-wise.

If you read Part 2, you might remember me saying that how and what Aziraphale is feeling is actually translating directly to what we, the audience, are shown through cinematographic and auditory clues. And this very same thing happens here too. Its starts around the minute mark of 28:31. Right after Aziraphale realizes that his miracles aren't working and he still announces the bullet catch, introducing Crowley, you can tell that the whole frame starts to shake every so slightly.

At first, it's extremely subtle and you could possibly wave it off as simply being filmed with a hand-held camera. However, the further we progress into the bullet catch trick scene, the more the frame starts shaking.

I have taken the liberty to make a little cutdown of how this intense shaking progresses, so that in case you never noticed it before, I can spare you the time of going back to watch it for yourself.

It might be a trick of the eye but it even seems like the edges of the frame grow blurrier the closer the actual firing of the gun comes. And I don't think I have to tell you what feeling this is trying to convey. Anyone who's ever had a panic attack would probably describe it exactly like that. At least I would.

Everything is shaking because Aziraphale was most certainly out of his mind with fear and adrenaline. He wants to do this, he has to because he needs to show up for Crowley the way Crowley showed up for him at the church – but he's also literally risking being discorporated for good. And once again, we feel his panic, we feel like just like it's our own blood pumping through our veins, just like when we ourselves are shaking with fear. Because this is his memory. And a memory of such a tense and dangerous moment takes a long time to feel less scary.

Once they successfully pull of the trick, the shaking stops, of course. Fell the Marvellous nails his second trick by stealing Furfur's picture, the Nazi!zombies wander off to Satan knows where and we get another one of Shax's memories when we see Furfur not getting his promotion. (Almost makes you feel a little sorry for him, poor bugger.)

I don't have much to say about their romantic red wine candle light boogaloo, apart from the fact that it makes me want to punch holes in walls with how smited smote smitten Aziraphale looks at Crowley the entire time. And also there's this awfully sweet post about Crowley deciding to still sit and drink with him despite not knowing yet that Aziraphale had stolen the evidence picture.

HE IS SO IN LOVE I AM GOING TO SCREAM–

Back to reality, whoa, there goes gravity (as we plummet down to Hell).

Because remember: While most of this was indeed Aziraphale's memory, some of it was Shax's as well. And I'm pretty sure she knows most of what went down that night. After all, Furfur was most definitely the one who caused the rumors of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item".

So, while Aziraphale was in the Bentley, indulging and revelling in his love-struck memories of the night he almost died* (*discorporated) twice and managed to survive both times because Crowley was there and trusted him, Shax also thought back on all of this since it was the final nail in the coffin that confirmed to her that Gabriel was hiding in the bookshop with Crowley.

So, what's the conclusion that both characters have come to during this very long flashback? It's simple:

Aziraphale loves Crowley. And Crowley loves Aziraphale.

There's only one person Aziraphale would trust with Gabriel – and that is Crowley. And there is only one place that no other demon would have access to except for Crowley. And that is the bookshop. Shax knows this now. Which is why it makes so much sense that once we're back in present day!Hell, she immediately requests a legion to attack the bookshop. Because she knows this is the only place Crowley and Aziraphale both consider safe from the outside world, and the only place Crowley would have access to because Aziraphale loves trusts him. Reflecting back on it, 1941 confirmed to her that they have been and still are the item everyone suspected them to be.

Clever, clever Shax!

As for Aziraphale: It's less of a conclusion, to be honest, and more of a reassurance, an affirmation of sorts. As I pointed out in my horrendously long context introduction, Crowley no longer working for Hell is exactly the push Aziraphale needs to finally feel like it's possible to make his move and confess to him.

And what does that news- and memory-induced realisation look like? This:

Ah yes, what a lovely day to confess your millennia-long love!

Too bad Crowley's not really up to speed yet and Aziraphale's rose-tinted little moment is met with:

... a face-full of plants. Whelp.

It's okay, they'll figure it out eventually.

My final little sidenote: The Jane Austen Ball and why it wasn't about Nina and Maggie

By all means, if you're already sick and tired of my tangents, do feel free to just skip this and end the meta early. I hope you had a good time with it, let me know your thoughts!

And for those of you who are up for a last burst of tinfoil-hatting: My conclusion to all of this is that I am 100% convinced that the whole Whickber-Street-Association-turned-Cotillion-Ball stunt Aziraphale pulls off in the next episode, was never actually meant for Nina and Maggie.

Why? Because up until getting a mouthful of plants once he arrives back in London, Aziraphale hadn't even known yet that Crowley's awning of a new age under the canopy had failed! The last time they spoke was over the phone in Edinburgh which ended with Crowley hanging up on Aziraphale to go make the love mission happen. And yet, Aziraphale clearly already has the whole ball thing planned out once he arrives in Soho, because he already calls it 'a night to remember'.

So, riddle me this: Why would Aziraphale plan this whole over-the-top romantic Jane Austen Ball on his ride back to London to make Nina and Maggie fall in love if he didn't even know yet whether or not Crowley's attempt at it had been successful or not?

It's almost like he meant for it to be his ideal way of a romantic confession for someone else.

'member the pub scene in S2E2?

Aziraphale: "People would gather and do some formal dancing and then realize they had misunderstood each other. And were actually deeply in love!" Crowley: "Now that sounds unlikely."

Resolving a deep misunderstanding like, hm, for instance, your "de facto partner" not telling you he'd been let go by his toxic employers just like you and also your quarrel about you wanting to protect your former-asshole-turned-cottage-core-dad boss from your own former toxic employers? With ✨a ball✨? (And that being, well, really unlikely to work? Oh, deary-dear angel. Oh, Aziraphale. Be still, my beating heart. You're a soldier for trying, I'll give you that.)

Are you goddamn done yet, OP?

Yes. I am. The tinfoil hat defense rests. I'm aware this was less focused on the actual unreliable narration and a bit more on contextualizing memories and feelings with decision making, deductions and actions – but hey, the road to epiphany has many winding paths. Or something.

Once again, here are Part 1 and Part 2 and if you made it this far: Congratulations, you have reached the end! Thanks for baring with me. I hope you enjoyed the journey just as much as Aziraphale did his daydream in the Bentley. And if you and me both feel strong enough for it, I might see you around in a cheeky little Epiloge to this meta series!

(Also: @dancingcrowley asked so nicely for me to tag them once Part 3 came out, so here you go!)

Cheers!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #my own meta #why aziraphale is an unreliable narrator #1941 #good omens blitzkrieg #bullet catch scene #bullet catch good omens #someone take this laptop away from me i need to be stopped #neil if you see this wink with both eyes i'm sure i'll feel it

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