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forbidden-sin-bin · 1 year ago

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Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagines #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers smut

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fixfoxnox · 2 years ago

Note

I don’t mean to add to your never ending list of drabble requests, but how do you think the NicPrice kiss went down??? I’d like to get a better gauge of papa Price lol

ANON I LOVE YOU FOR ASKING THIS JSBFJFJFNF AH

Setting Us Up For Failure - Price/Nikolai

Description: A young Lieutenant Price meets, befriends, and falls for a Russian pilot

Word Count: 9k (I may have gone a little overboard)

My Masterlist

"Captain MacMillan," Price had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he trailed behind his Captain, watching him greet the jovial Russian man ahead of them. It was an interesting sight, seeing his Captain wrapping the other man up in a hug, "It has been too long, how is your wife?"

"Still begging me to come home," MacMillan answered with a resounding laugh. The two men exchanged another hug before MacMillan was stepping back and motioning Price forward, "This is my Lieutenant," Price puffed up slightly at the use of his new rank. He'd worked hard for the promotion, sue him for being proud of it, "John Price."

The man held his hand out to him, a bright grin on his face, "Ivan Orlov," his gaze turned back to MacMillan briefly, "I see you've found yourself a protégé." He pulled back, crossing his arms across his chest and smiling in a way that didn't seem fully genuine to Price.

"Yes," MacMillan answered, meeting Price's eyes briefly before continuing, "He's a good lad, rather skilled."

Orlov eyed him up and down for a moment, a smirk on his lips that had Price flushing red in embarrassment and anger. It was clear to see that the other man didn't believe MacMillan's words.

Price knew that he was smaller than a lot of people expected of him. He'd been a skinny, lanky, underweight thing when he'd joined the military, most of that from his time on the streets after he'd run away from home. Over the years he'd managed to put on some weight and muscle, but it didn't come easy to him. It was exactly why he looked how he did. A lieutenant in the military, still a skinny thing with a layer of lean muscle over his body. His clothes hid most of it, making him look weaker than he was. With that and his affinity for random hats that he'd picked up in nearby towns, MacMillan had commented several times that he often looked more like a kid than a lieutenant in the military.

"Right," Orlov said finally, a chuckle pulling from his lips.

Price wanted to say something to the man, prove that he was more than he looked, but he didn't. Instead, he just ground his teeth together and clamped his mouth shut, letting MacMillan change the topic.

"You said you've put together a team for us, but do you have a pilot?" He raised a brow at the man, "No offense, mate, but you seem a bit too out of it to be offering us support these days." The words were a jab, an answer for the clear remark that the other had made about Price.

Price watched Orlov's jaw clench as he forced a smile. He suddenly understood why MacMillan had gruffly commented that he hated working with Orlov. It was clear that the man turned everything into a competition. "Yes," Orlov gave a cynical smile, "I've taken on a protégé as well," he gave a low chuckle, "come, I'll introduce the two of you."

He turned, starting off toward the airfield where several different planes were going through routine checks. As they walked he pointed out various things on the base, pride radiating through his voice as he spoke. Occasionally he would throw in something like "bet you don't have one of those in England, eh?" The patronizing words grated on Price's nerves, but he kept his frustration to himself.

The walk was almost agonizing with his constant speaking, it felt like it took them thirty minutes to finally make it to their destination when, in reality, they'd likely only been walking for five. Orlov had stopped him in front of one of the larger planes, one that would carry an entire platoon if need be.

There was a man standing outside of the plane, a clipboard and pen in his hands. He would call something out in a loud barked Russian and, moments later, a deeper voice from inside the plane would respond, also in Russian. Orlov turned to them as they came to a stop in front of the transport, "I think you will like him," his eyes turned to Price with a smug grin, "He is around your age I believe. Quite accomplished too." He turned then, calling something out in loud Russian. The only thing Price could make out was a name. Nikolai.

The voice responded quickly and there was a brief pause before a man, around Price's age, appeared at the entrance to the plane, quickly dropping down and walking over to meet the group with a smile. Orlov spoke to him in quick Russian, pointing to Price and MacMillan as he spoke before finally turning back, "This is the pilot. Nikolai."

Price tried not to stare, but it was difficult. Nikolai was, well, gorgeous. Black hair that was grown out to his chin, split with a middle part that showed his widows peak. He had to be using some sort of gel in it with the way it was slicked back, all but one loose piece neatly out of his face. Price knew it was likely to hang down at the sides more messily when it wasn't slicked away.

Nikolai had a strong, sharp jaw and defined muscles down his entire body. It wasn't hard to see that he was strong. His shoulders were quite broad with bulging biceps and pecs made only more defined by the tight white shirt that he wore. There were several buttons at the top of the shirt, two undone showing a bit of his chest. Price tried to avoid looking, but the silver of a chain around the man's neck kept drawing his attention back. At least, that was what he told himself.

He ended up having to divert his gaze completely from the other man, trying to avoid being caught ogling him. His face went a bit pink at the thought. He was a Lieutenant in the military! He did not ogle at cute bulky Russian pilots!

"Captain MacMillan," His captain stepped forward, shaking the Russian's hand before motioning for Price to do the same, "This is my Lieutenant, John Price."

Price hesitantly stepped forward, taking the man's large hand in his own and giving it a firm shake. He risked glancing up at the man, his cheeks flushing red when he met the other's eyes. They were a soft brown. He stepped back quickly, moving his hands to fold together behind his back as his gaze fixed itself on the ground.

"Nikolai," he responded. His voice was deep, the Russian accent adding something to it that had Price's ears tingling and his hand clenching tight behind his back. He took a deep breath in, he needed to get ahold of himself. This was work, not some bar where he could openly stare at handsome, muscular, nice-voiced Russian pilots!

"You know the mission?" MacMillan asked the man carefully.

"I do."

"Think you can handle it?" MacMillan crossed his arms, "you'll be leaving the plane and joining us on a raid, not many pilots are up to that."

Price glanced up, watching Nikolai from under his lashes as he puffed up slightly, "I can handle it, sir." Price spotted the way that the man glanced at him, though he couldn't quite understand why, "I've been trained in ground combat just the same as air combat."

MacMillan nodded to him slowly, eyeing him carefully, "Good," he landed on finally, "I'll have Price here run you through some drills," Price's gaze turned to MacMillan then, his face likely showing how startled he was by the assignment. "Not today, 'fraid Price and I could use some rest. Expect to see him tomorrow though. I just want to be sure you can handle it."

Nikolai nodded, his eyes moving over to meet Price's again. Price had to look away quickly, unable to hold the other man's gaze for long. "I understand. I will look for your Lieutenant tomorrow."

"Good lad," MacMillan chimed with a grin. "Well if the two of you don't mind, Price and I are going to get settled. We've a busy few days ahead of us men."

"The pilot, Nikolai, you should try to befriend him." Price whipped around quickly, meeting MacMillan with confusion in his gaze. He'd been unpacking his things, left to it by his Captain while the man went to get himself settled. The Russians had been gracious enough to give them separate rooms.

"What?" Price stood taller, tilting his head at his Captain and crossing his arms over his chest, "Why?" He really hoped that his Captain hadn't picked up on the way that he'd been looking at Nikolai. It was an awkward conversation that he did not want to have with the man who had become something akin to a father figure for him.

MacMillan tilted his head at him, an amused smile tugging at his lips, "It's good for you to make friends. Have an ally with the Russians and it will make dealing with them much easier for you in the future."

"What," Price asked, a lump forming in his throat, "Like you and Orlov?" He could feel nerves racing through his system. He always got nervous when MacMillan started talking about his future. He hadn't even thought he'd ever become a lieutenant, but MacMillan was always aiming higher for him. He had a lot of faith in his abilities and a lot of faith meant that it would be easy to let the older man down if he didn't live up to that potential.

"No," MacMillan gave a chuckle as he stepped further into Price's room. He closed the door behind him, blocking their voices from any nosy people who might pass by. "Orlov and I tolerate each other. We work together when we need to and we pretend to like each other."

"He is a bit of an ass," Price grumbled out, still a bit sore from the way he'd been eyed up and down by the other man earlier.

"More than a bit," MacMillan agreed with a chuckle. "I want you to be different. I want you to actually befriend this Nikolai."

"Why?"

"Because," MacMillan gave him a smile, "It pays to have people you can trust around. If what Orlov says is true, then both you and Nikolai are extremely skilled. He'd be a good ally to have. Someone good to rely on." He stepped forward then, lightly smacking Price's arm before turning to head back to the door, opening it fully before turning to add, "Tomorrow when you're running him through the drills, make a friend, John." With that he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a thud and leaving Price by himself, silence echoing around him.

Price hesitantly moved into one of the large open garages on base, glancing around himself nervously. He knew that stepping into the garage was more than allowed for him, but it still felt somehow taboo. He figured it was because of the almost personalized nature of the small area. Tools on the walls, little pictures hung about, a jacket slung over a chair. There were little bits of the pilot he'd come to see all around the room. It made it feel almost like he was stepping into someone's home unannounced. Though, if Orlov's words about Nikolai practically living in the small garage because of how much time he spent there were true, then it was to be expected.

After a quick morning check-in with MacMillan and Orlov, Price had set off to retrieve the Russian pilot and take him through the drills his Captain wanted to see. Orlov had given him quick directions of the few places where he'd be most likely to find the man before taking off with MacMillan to start prep for their mission. He had to pretend that he didn't see MacMillan's pointed look toward him as the men were walking away. His words from the previous night about making a friend still echoed around in his mind. He knew it wouldn't be as easy as his Captain made it out to be, making friends could be difficult for him, and, even now, he had no one in his life who he considered a friend.

He'd gone searching for Nikolai, checking every place other than the garage first, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't have to step into a room where he would be completely alone with the other man. Of course, his luck wasn't that good, so he'd found himself marching toward the garage. He'd knocked on the little side door at first, trying to maybe put some separation there. He tried twice, but the sound of tools being used on the other side of the door seemed to swallow the sound of his knocks, even where he stood, so he pushed quietly inside.

He couldn't see Nikolai, but based on the various tools that littered the ground and the sound of the man muttering to himself, he could assume that the Russian was currently underneath the small car that was parked in the garage. It seemed that the Russian was good with things other than planes as well. Price stood still for a moment, just watching and listening as he tried to work up the energy to let himself be known. He really hoped that Nikolai wasn't anything like Orlov.

Finally, he cleared his throat, hearing the man under the car go silent, "Nikolai?" He took another step toward the car, "It's-"

"Price, from yesterday, right?" Nikolai was suddenly pushing himself out from under the vehicle, stopping to sit up on the little roller he'd been laid back on. He gave Price a wide smile, "Here to run me through my drills I'm guessing?" He gave a short chuckle and Price couldn't help but let a smile tug at his lips as well.

"Sorry," Price folded his hands behind his back again, looking down at the other man with a smile of his own, "I know I'm pulling you away from work."

Nikolai waved him off and pushed himself to stand from the ground, taking a confident step toward him as he responded, "Nonsense, this is work too. Besides, I could use the break."

Price was taken aback as he was, once again, faced with all of Nikolai. He could feel his face flush again as his eyes scanned over the man's face and chest, moving all the way down to his hands. They were large, large, and covered in some type of oil or grease that the man was currently trying to wipe off onto a small rag in his hands. That same substance was on the man's shirt and covering bits of his skin, mixing in with a layer of sweat to create a temptingly disheveled look on him. With every slight movement he made, Price found his eyes drawn to something new, whether it be his face, his chest, his arms, or those hands.

"Um," Price tried to refocus his mind, looking back up to meet Nikolai's eyes and noticing the amused smile that now graced his lips. "I don't," he tried to remember what they were talking about, his brows furrowed and he bit his lip for a moment before finally settling on, "I don't plan on going too hard on you."

Nikolai gave a low chuckle in response to that, "We can go as hard as we need to, don't worry, I can keep up." Price flushed red again, mentally cursing himself for the way that his mind had immediately turned to something less than innocent. He didn't trust that his voice wouldn't give him away, so he didn't speak. He just gave the man a quick nod of his head, taking a step back while the other man watched him, that smile still on his lips. "Hmm, cute."

"What?" Price blinked suddenly at the man, unsure if he'd actually heard him speak or not. Certainly, the man hadn't just called him cute?

Nikolai gave a hum in response, turning away from him to walk toward a free-standing sink in the room to begin cleaning up, "What?" The man responded casually.

"Did, did you say something?" Price asked, trailing behind him slightly.

"No," Nikolai responded with a glance over his shoulder. Price opened his mouth to respond to the man, but quickly shut it. He looked away from the other man, embarrassment burning at him. His mind must have been playing tricks on him.

"You're good," Price complimented the taller man with a smile. He'd just watched Nikolai tear apart several different targets on the range, his aim impeccable as he hit every target that he called out for him. Nikolai puffed up with pride at his praise, turning toward him with a bright grin on his face.

Price had learned rather quickly that having a smile plastered on his face seemed to be the man's default setting. It was only a little endearing. Only a little.

"Yeah?" Nikolai leaned toward him, trying to get a peek at the clipboard he held in his hands. Price was quick to tuck it against his chest, leaning away from the man as he received a playful pout in return. "Good enough to join you on a raid?"

Price lifted the clipboard up, just enough to hide his face as he grinned at the papers in front of him. "Hmm," he responded, pretending to look at the paper in front of him harshly, "I don't know," he pulled the clipboard down just enough that he could meet Nikolai's eyes over the top. "You could be cheating."

Nikolai gave a chuckle, seemingly pleased with Price playing along with his teasing. The smile that the man sent his way had Price's chest tightening and his heart squeezing a bit beneath his ribs. It wasn't the most professional reaction to have to someone he'd be working with, but he supposed it was fine so long as the other man didn't notice. "Cheating? Come now, you say that only because I am the best shot you've ever seen."

Price scoffed, lowering his clipboard back to his arms, "I've definitely seen better," he teased.

"Who?"

"Me," Price gave him a smug grin and was pleased to see that Nikolai didn't seem annoyed with his self-confidence, but rather amused at his words.

The man stepped to the side pointing to the base of the shooting range where he'd just been standing, "Care to prove it then?" He held his gun out carefully to Price, a challenging smile on his face.

Price only hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his chin tilted defiantly up as he set his clipboard face down on the ammo table and took the gun from Nikolai's hands. It was Russian-made, one that he'd never used before, but with quite a few similarities to many of the weapons that he'd used back home.

He checked his ammo quickly, loading in a new mag before stepping up to the little shooting window. "Ah, ah," Nikolai called as he raised his gun, Price turned to look at him with a raised brow. "Ear protection and eye protection, Lieutenant. I'd hate for you to get yourself hurt."

Price rolled his eyes at the man's teasing tone, but listened to his words and grabbed one of the pairs of safety glasses from the table. He tapped the side of his head as he turned toward Nikolai, "I've been wearing ear protection the entire time, you're too loud not to," he was met with another laugh from the other man and he couldn't help but grin at him. He could tell his face was flushed, but this time it seemed to be more from his own enjoyment of the other man's presence rather than his mind running wild while he looked at him. "Call my shots?" He asked after a moment, turning back to the range to lift the weapon up into a ready position.

"Gladly," Nikolai replied, stepping up beside him. "Two by the car," he was starting him off easy, Price wanted to scoff at the man. He took one shot, adjusted for the recoil, then took two more shots, hitting both of the targets by the car with a headshot. Nikolai gave a low whistle before calling, "Three by the shack." Three more headshots. "Two by the wall." These two were fairly far away, still, Price hit his shots. Finally, Nikolai called, "One at the back, by the barrels." This was the farthest target at the little firing range. Price took a moment to aim before he shot and once again hit his target.

He turned back to Nikolai with a grin, already finding the man's eyes on him as he turned. He burned red at the look of amazement that he wore, but managed to stay calm as he smiled at him and teased, "Told you I was better."

"You've really never worked with cars before?" Nikolai tilted his head at him, watching Price with an amused grin as the shorter man peered anxiously under the hood of the car that Nikolai had been working on. They'd returned to the garage together from drills, surprisingly easy conversation flowing between the two.

Price had intended to leave once they'd reached the garage, though the thought did make him feel a tad bit disappointed. He was pleasantly surprised when Nikolai invited him into the garage to look at his latest project. Price had, a little too quickly, taken the man up on his offer. Nikolai hadn't commented on that though, instead, he'd just given him a big smile and guided him inside to look at the car.

He'd been talking about the mechanics of the vehicle for nearly twenty minutes, happily telling Price anything and everything as they walked around the vehicle. It was clear to see how passionate he was about his work, his voice going over every piece of the car excitedly, using words that Price had never heard in his life. He was content to just listen to the other man, even if he didn't understand what he was saying. Something about the happy look on his face and the excitement in his tone had Price's heart beating faster in his chest.

Of course, he'd eventually put his foot in his mouth. He considered himself to be a fairly good bullshitter, he had to be for half of the things that he and MacMillan got up to. Apparently, all of that flew out of the window when he was faced with someone as eye-catching to him as Nikolai. So he'd rather dumbly asked the man a question about something that was apparently common knowledge when it came to cars. Obviously, it wasn't common enough.

He'd felt his face go bright red when the other man had broken into laughs before asking him through his laughter if he actually knew anything about what they'd been discussing. Price had been forced to rather sheepishly admit that he had no idea what the man had been talking about the entire time.

That had led them to where they were now, with Price, rather embarrassingly, standing on a little step stool so that he could lean over the hood of the vehicle Nikolai had been working on. The man was explaining several things to him under the hood, trying to teach him the basics. "I've never had a reason to work with them before," he explained quickly to the taller man, "Nothing's ever fucked up on me before, so no reason to get under the hood."

Nikolai gave a snort, "You've never even changed the oil yourself?"

Price blinked at him for a moment, tilting his head with confusion, "You have to change the oil? How does that work?" Nikolai sputtered at him, a look of absolute horror crossing his face that only disappeared when Price let a playful grin cross his face, letting the other man know that he'd only been joking.

"Not funny," Nikolai muttered, nudging his side, "I was worried for your wellbeing you know."

"If it makes you feel better," Price leaned fully onto the hood, turning to look down at all of the complicated-looking things beneath him, "I don't actually have a personal vehicle, I only have my license for military driving necessities."

"That does certainly make me worry less," Nikolai gave a chuckle, that grin back on his face as he looked up at Price, "Anything you're curious about? I'd be more than happy to explain."

There really wasn't anything that Price was actually curious about, but he'd take any opportunity that he could to listen to Nikolai talk more, especially about something he was interested in. With that thought in mind, he just pointed randomly at something further toward the back of the hood, "What's that thing?"

The car, while likely taller on its own, was also up on jacks, meaning that Nikolai, despite his height, was forced to strain to try to see what Price was pointing at. After a moment, the man gave a sigh and turned, making his way toward him, "Hold on, I can't see it." Price went to step off of the little step stool, only to be instead pushed to the front of the little block, Nikolai stepping up behind him to look over his shoulder.

He could feel his entire face flush red, heat creeping up his spine as he felt the warmth and solidness of Nikolai's chest pressed against his back, his arms caging him in against the vehicle. "What was it you were asking about?" The man asked, his mouth next to Price's ear as he leaned over him.

Price took in a shaky breath, bracing himself against the hood nervously before pointing at the same spot again. "That thing." His voice sounded high and wrecked to his own ears, the sound pulling a wince from him. Thankfully, mercifully, Nikolai didn't mention it, only started explaining the little bit under the hood.

He really didn't mean to, but with Nikolai's chest against his back and his hands caging him against the car, it was no surprise that his mind began to wander. It was a dangerous thing, with the man his mind was focused on being quite literally pressed up behind him. He tried hard to focus on Nikolai's words, but instead, his mind latched on to the feeling of the vibrations of his words against his back.

"Price?" He realized suddenly that he'd definitely zoned out. His mind snapped back into place and he tried to take in a calming breath without the man behind him noticing. "Everything alright?"

"Yup," he responded slowly, "Just thinking. This is all rather complicated, I don't think I'd ever want to mess with any of this."

The words pulled a chuckle from the man behind him, "If you ever get a car, some of these things are important. You should try to learn."

Price wrinkled his nose at the idea, turning so that he could at least halfway look at the other man. He found the usual grin that Nikolai wore waiting on him, "I don't know about that. I think I'll just have someone else fix it up for me." He paused before giving a playful smile, "maybe I'll just have you do it."

He could feel Nikolai's rumbling laugh against his chest as the man responded, "All you'd have to do is ask. I'd be more than happy to help." He didn't quite realize how often he would come to hear those words from the man.

Price hadn't meant to hover around the front of the plane, really, he hadn't. He'd fully intended to board the little vessel with his Captain and take his seat by the man, waiting with the seven Russians, Orlov included, that were joining them on their mission as Nikolai flew them to their drop point. Really, that's what he'd meant to do.

He'd boarded the plane with MacMillan, fully dressed in his gear, one of his favorite beanies firmly in place to keep his hair out of his face. He'd followed MacMillan to his seat, sitting patiently as the back of the plane closed up and they took off into the air. It was a bit awkward, the entire back of the plane was filled only with the sound of loud Russian. Price could have spoken with MacMillan, but the man was chatting tensely with Orlov about business, which meant that Price was left to spend the ride essentially on his own.

Then, a loud voice cut through the noise, calling for Price and making most of the voices in the plane go silent. Price had gone bright red before slipping out of his seat and quickly making his way to the entrance of the small cockpit, leaning in to look at Nikolai. "Nikolai?"

Nikolai had given him a grin, motioning to the empty copilot seat next to him, "Sit with me for the flight?"

Price had blinked at him for a moment, shock sent through his veins. Sure, the copilot didn't have to actually do anything with this type of plane, but Price certainly hadn't expected to be invited to take the seat. He hesitated for a moment, the offer was certainly more appealing than sitting by himself in the back, "Are you sure?"

Nikolai gave a low chuckle, "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure. Come, sit." Price wasn't going to say no to that so, with one last glance back (and choosing to ignore the looks that he was getting from both Orlov and MacMillan), he quickly moved fully into the front area, plopping down in the copilot seat. He was careful to keep his hands folded neatly in his lap, trying to avoid knocking against any of the controls and fucking something up.

"I've never really been at the front of the plane before," he spoke idly, looking around at all of the confusing buttons and switches before teasingly saying, "it seems almost as complicated as a car."

Nikolai gave an amused snort, reaching forward to flip a switch on the dash as he responded, "Trust me, dusha moya, this is far more complicated."

Price tilted his head at the man, watching the way that he so casually flipped switches on the craft, flying the plane as though what he was doing wasn't something unbelievably impressive, at least in Price's mind. The man looked quite good at that moment, his hair slicked back as usual, the headphones that he wore for the plane fit snugly over his ears, and the sunglasses he wore framed his face well. He was wearing another tight shirt, showing off his muscular arms. It was a tempting sight for Price, especially as Nikolai reached up to flip various buttons, his arms flexing with the movement. The man was unbelievably attractive and it was eating its way at Price something fierce.

In any other scenario, Price would have easily considered Nikolai a friend already. Really, they were friends. They'd spent the rest of the day after drills together, they'd been taking their meals together, and Price had taken to joining Nikolai in the garage, chatting idly to the man as he worked on whatever needed to be worked on.

The past week of Price's life had been him befriending the Russian man and, as sad as it sounded, he already felt like Nikolai was probably the best friend that he had. That should have been enough for Price, he should have been happy with the almost natural friendship that had formed between himself and the other man. But he wasn't. He wasn't happy, and the entire reason boiled down to the fact that in the process of befriending Nikolai, Price had also quickly formed a fucking crush on the man.

Sure, it was one thing for him to find Nikolai attractive. He was a gay man with eyes, he wasn't going to not find Nikolai attractive, but to have to admit to himself that he had a crush? It made him feel like a stupid kid in eighth year with a crush on the handsome boy in his maths class. It felt stupid. It felt childish. But fuck, he really wanted to kiss the other man, even though he knew he couldn't.

"It's kinda cool," he muttered lowly, watching Nikolai's hands flex against the steering for the plane, "Seeing you in your element and all."

Nikolai hummed, turning to give him a quick wink that had his face heating up again, "I'm excited to see you in your element," he responded playfully, "Lieutenant Price. I'm quite looking forward to taking orders from you." And fuck, if that didn't make Price squirm in his seat a bit.

"Well," Price turned away from the man, pretending to be interested in something on the dash in front of him, "You may not like it so much when I'm screaming at you to move your ass."

"Oh," Nikolai gave a chuckle, "No, I think I'll still like it just fine." Things were silent between the two for a moment, Nikolai quickly flicked a few more switches as Price tried to get the heat of his face under control and the stupid butterflies in his stomach to stop fluttering. "I like your hat," Nikolai said after a moment.

The comment, though simple, pulled a wide grin from Price, "Yeah? It's one of my favorites!" He reached up to touch the edge of his hat. He had quite an affinity for them and he was more used to people teasing him than complimenting him.

"You wear hats often?" Nikolai questioned, "I noticed the caps that you wore during the week. I was wondering if that was a preference or just because you were having some bad hair."

Price gave a small chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn't expected Nikolai to pick up on something so simple, just the thought that the other man had made his heart flutter again. "Yeah, I have a lot of hats, I usually pick one up every new place that I go. Captain says most of them make me look like a little kid though."

"I don't think so," Nikolai shot a quick glance at him, "I think they make you look cute, dusha moya." Price gripped tight to the fabric of his pants, his face flushing.

"Thank you," he managed to get out, his voice a bit too shaky and high for him to not feel embarrassed.

Nikolai gave a hum, "Have you bought a hat here yet?"

"What?"

"You said you try to pick one up every new place you go. Do you have one from here yet?" Nikolai turned to look at him fully, raising an eyebrow at him above the sunglasses he wore.

Price hesitantly shook his head, "No, not yet. I don't really know my way around the town, so I haven't had a chance yet."

Nikolai's lips curled up slightly at the words. He turned back toward the front of the plane again, casually saying, "Good, I'll take you out to get one when we get back from our mission, yes?"

Price could only agree with the man, those butterflies in his stomach coming back even stronger. He was fucked.

"Nik!" Price turned, watching one of the men who'd been on the mission with them run up to the man next to him, his cheeks tinged red and his breathing heavy as he spoke quick Russian to the man. Nikolai answered in Russian, though based on the way he'd motioned to him while speaking, Price could assume that he was telling the other man that he was taking him out.

The Russian in front of him furrowed his brows, looking Price up and down like he hadn't even realized he was there. It sent a flush of anger down Price's spine. Why were so many of these Russians so damn rude? Luckily the man didn't stay much longer, simply giving Nikolai a friendly slap on the shoulder and a few more words in Russian before turning and heading back to the bar that Price and Nikolai had just left.

Once he was gone, Price turned to Nikolai, his eyebrow raised as his mind turned back to what the man had called him. "Nik?"

Nikolai gave a chuckle, "That's the first time you've heard someone call me that?" He guided Price toward the car they came in, opening the passenger door for him and shutting it once he was inside. Price waited patiently for the man to come around and climb into the driver's seat.

"I like it," he spoke quickly, shooting the man a grin before repeating, "Nik. It's cute." He was surprised to see a bit of red rise to the tops of Nikolai's cheeks at his words.

"Well," Nikolai cleared his throat, "You're free to call me that whenever you want, dusha moya."

"What does that mean?" Price asked quickly. Nikolai had called him that several times now and the almost affectionate-sounding words had been eating at his mind. He'd thought about asking Orlov about it, but the idea of mispronouncing the words to the older man or getting them wrong somehow made him want to jump off a cliff. So he'd decided that was a no.

Nikolai didn't answer him, he just kept his eyes firmly on the road as he drove them into town. "I'm taking you to a clothes shop. I think we'll find you something you'll like there." Price nearly huffed at his question being ignored, but he respected the dismissal for what it was. He wouldn't press, no matter how curious he was.

The ride was short, though not uninteresting. Conversation flowed between the two men naturally, discussions of their mission and the shop they were going to taking up the majority of their conversation. Price also found himself occupied with the sights outside of their small vehicle, admiring the area as they drove through.

They made it to the shop about thirty minutes before they were set to close. It was clear to see that Nikolai was relieved that they'd made it in time, his face fixing into an easy grin as they got out of the car and made their way into the building. Price knew they'd probably stayed a bit longer at the bar than they were meant to, but when Nikolai had jokingly asked if he was able to handle his alcohol, he couldn't help but take the man's offer of a bit of whiskey to wash down a successful mission.

"This place looks nice," Price spoke lowly, trailing through the small clothing shop after Nikolai, "Not sure if it's my style," he wrinkled his nose at an overly flashy top that they passed, "but it's nice."

Nikolai gave a low chuckle, "Luckily for you, their selection of hats is much larger in styles." He motioned Price back to a large wall of hats of any and every kind that he could think of. It was an incredibly impressive sight and one that had Price's heart swelling with excitement. There were so many choices, so many new things that he would be more than willing to add to his growing collection.

"I don't even know where to start," he stepped closer, letting his hand run along the top of several different caps and beanies along the wall, his eyes racing around to try to take in everything. Eventually, he stopped hesitantly at one of the hats, pulling it off to get a closer look at the details.

After a moment, he plopped the hat on his head, turning to look at one of the mirrors along the walls so that he could get a good look at himself. He hummed at the sight. The color wasn't quite working for him and he already had several other caps, so he knew it wouldn't be a winner. Still, he turned to Nikolai with a small smile, "What do you think?"

Nikolai tilted his head at him, his eyes scanning over his face for a moment before saying, "It looks good, though something tells me you don't agree with that?"

Price gave a short chuckle, taking the hat off and returning it to its place on the wall, "I don't like the color," he spoke simply, "And I already have plenty of caps. I'm thinking a different style, like..." he looked over the hats before playfully pulling down one of those gimmicky propellor hats and plopping it on his head. He turned to Nikolai with a grin, already seeing the man trying to contain his laughter, "How about this?"

"Perfect," Nikolai responded, his voice laced with amusement, "Suits you very well I think."

"You don't think it makes me look too childish?" Price stepped closer to Nikolai, a teasing grin still on his face.

"Not in the slightest," the man responded, his lips pressed together tightly to try to hide his smile. After a moment of just looking at one another, Nikolai reached forward, flicking the little propellor on the hat to send it spinning. The two men devolved into laughter only moments after.

They went on that way as Price continued trying on various hats, cracking jokes to one another and delighting in every smile or laugh that the other gave. To Price, this was far more enjoyable than sitting in some Russian bar with MacMillan and a bunch of rude Russian soldiers. Still, they'd gotten to the shop late, which meant that they didn't have much time until a worker was coming up to them to let them know that they were closing in five minutes.

"Well?" Nikolai raised an eyebrow at Price, "Made a decision?"

Price gave a low hum. Normally he would have gone with the soft blue beanie that he had clasped in his hands. It normally would have been his first and only choice, an easy one to make. But there was something else that had caught his attention, though noticeably for a far more selfish reason.

It was a simple hat, something he never would have looked back at twice if it hadn't been for the man standing next to him. It was a brownish-green bucket hat, one that looked more similar to something a fisherman would wear than what he would ever even think of putting on his head. He'd tried it on absentmindedly, not really thinking anything of it. He liked how he looked in it, in an odd way it suited him, but that wasn't the reason why he was thinking about snatching the thing up.

No, the reason behind that was the man standing next to him. He'd turned to Nikolai, prepared with a little quip in mind about the hat. All of his words had failed him when he caught sight of the way the other man was looking at him. His face was soft and there was something that Price would have had to be a fool to miss shining in his eyes. He recognized that look, the pure adoration that the other man was sending his way. It sent a shock of joy through his veins and, just thinking about it had him snatching up the bucket hat.

"I think I'll get both of these actually," He muttered quietly, giving a shy smile to the other man. Though Nikolai only gave him a nod, he could see how pleased his choice made the other man. It pulled a grin to his face, one that didn't leave even as he paid for his hats and walked outside to climb inside the car with Nikolai again. He pulled the tags off and plopped the hat on his head as soon as they were in the car.

He could feel Nikolai's gaze warming him the entire ride back to base. There was something different between them on the ride back, like a shift that filled the air with tension between their light conversation. Maybe it was Nikolai's heated gaze or the flush that sat high on Price's cheeks the entire ride back to base. Maybe it was just that the two were done dancing around one another, bolstered by a successful mission and a week of friendship entwined with flirting.

Price felt closer to Nikolai than he'd ever felt with anyone else and he knew, even when he and MacMillan were forced to leave in the morning, even when he would be so far away from the other man, Price knew that they would stay like that. This friendship, romance, whatever the hell it was...it would just keep growing.

His face was still flushed when they finally arrived back on base, Nikolai pulling the vehicle he'd borrowed back into its space in the garage. Price clambered out, meeting him around the front of the vehicle. They stopped there, watching each other for a moment. Price knew that he needed to get back to his room. It was late and he'd likely missed his check-in with MacMillan, not that he could find it in himself to care. He needed to go inside, but he didn't want to.

"I guess," he cleared his throat, smiling hesitantly up at Nikolai, "I should probably get back to my room. MacMillan and I are supposed to leave tomorrow." He paused, turning his gaze away from Nikolai as he spoke. He wasn't asking anything crazy, and he wasn't making a request that would seem anything but friendly, but still, looking the other man in the eye seemed too intimate. "Please stay in touch and everything, I'd like to say goodbye tomorrow before I leave, but I know you're busy, so-"

There was a hand on his jaw, gently turning his face. Warm soft lips connected with his own, pressing passionately against him and nearly knocking him back with the force. He was pressed back against the vehicle quickly, caged against the metal by Nikolai's strong arms as the man stole the breath from his lungs. Price didn't hesitate to react, his own arms moving to wrap around the man's shoulders, yanking him as close as he physically could.

The feeling of the man's warm body pressed against his own sent shivers down his spine and pulled a satisfied little sigh from his lips. This, Nikolai licking his way into his mouth, his hands gripping tight at his hips to hold him steady, it was so much. It was so much, but it was so perfect.

After a moment, Nikolai pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead against Price's as they both took in deep breaths. They didn't say anything at first, just looked at one another, occasionally diving down to press another short but passionate kiss against the other's mouth. Finally, after several moments, Nikolai pressed closer to him, slotting their lips together again so that he could mumble through the kiss, "See me tomorrow, before you leave. In the garage."

Price could only nod against him, his mouth far too occupied to respond with words.

Price was still high on Nikolai's kisses when he made his way back to his room. He could still feel the man's touches on his skin, tingling where they'd brushed against his arms or grabbed his hips. He was high on the feeling.

Of course, with every high came a crash. Price's came in the form of his Captain sitting on the bed in his room, a knowing eyebrow raised at him. "Captain," Price tried. MacMillan didn't let him finish.

"I told you to befriend the pilot," he tilted his head at Price, "Not seduce him."

"Sir," Price started, his voice small, "I didn't mean to, it's just he's so," he tried to find the right word, but nothing good enough came to his mind so he lamely settled on, "nice."

MacMillan watched him for a moment. "You like him? Really like him?" Price nodded his head hesitantly. There was a moment of silence before MacMillan gave a heavy sigh and stood up from his bed, "Listen to me, John. I want you to be happy, I do, but I also want you to be successful." Price winced a bit at his words, diverting his eyes to the ground quickly. "This goes beyond what is professional, if this doesn't work out for you? If the two of you only last a month before having a heated break? That's an ally that you've lost." He stepped forward, placing a hand on Price's shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, "It's your call, lad. Just know what you could be losing."

The man stood for another moment, watching him before giving a quick pat on his shoulder and leaving the room. Price stood silently, his Captain's words eating at his mind. There was a heavy feeling that settled in his chest, a heavy feeling and a pool of dread that rose up his throat, replacing the high of Nikolai with the weight of the crash. It was consuming. It was heartbreaking. But, above all, it was enough to pull Price back to reality, a reality where he knew what he had to do.

Price felt sick stepping into the garage. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, all of his few things packed up. He was ready to leave Russia, but the thought made him feel sick. When Nikolai saw him, fixing him with that bright grin that made his heart stutter in his chest, he wondered if the sting in his chest was what a gunshot felt like. He was sure he'd find out eventually, sometime in his career.

Nikolai seemed to pick up on his less-than-stellar attitude, his smile falling into something more concerned as he stepped closer. He came closer, reaching out for him, but Price stepped back. He gripped tight at his bag, avoiding the look of confusion that the other man sent him. He looked like a kicked puppy. It broke his heart, the splinters of it piercing into his chest harder.

"John?" Nikolai's voice was soft, laced with concern, "Is everything alright?"

"I," Price bit his lips, trying to find his words. This was better for both of them, in the long run. It was right. "About last night. I think we should try to keep things professional."

"What?" Price winced at the sound of Nikolai's voice. He could feel tears threatening to rise to his eyes, but he pushed them down. He couldn't fucking cry over this.

"We're going to be working together for a long time," Price cleared his throat, "I think it would be better if we didn't complicate that. If we just stayed as friends and coworkers."

"Friends?"

Price winced again, bringing a hand up to readjust the hat on his head. It was the bucket hat, the one he'd picked last night. There was a bit of comfort that he took in the material, in the memories that it carried with it. "If you want to stay friends," he replied, "I understand if, with all of this, you'd prefer it if we just were coworkers. Nothing else."

He jolted back when hands grabbed his own, pulling them up and drawing his attention back to Nikolai's face. Price could feel his eyes going glassy as he looked at the other man, recognizing the confusion, dread, and heartbreak that was building there. "John," Nikolai shook his head at him, stepping closer, "Tell me that you don't want this."

Price shook his head, looking away from the man as he slowly pulled his hands away and responded, "It isn't about what I want. It's about what is going to be better for both of us in the long run." He took a step away from the man, feeling like he was fighting against his own body to actually move away. He didn't want this. He didn't want to pull away from the man in front of him. He did though. He did because it was going to be better for both of them. "I'm sorry," he muttered to the other man.

Nikolai didn't respond to him, his face frozen into a picture of devastation. Price wondered briefly if a lie would have been better. If telling Nikolai that he didn't want him would have saved them both the heartache of knowing what they wanted, but couldn't have. It was too late for that though. He readjusted his bag on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I," he paused, taking a deep breath, "I have to go. I'm sorry."

He hesitated for one more moment before turning, slowly making his way to the garage door. It felt like one of the hardest things that he'd ever done. Walking away. It wasn't until he got to the door, pushing it open to step out, that he finally heard Nikolai's voice. "John." Price hesitated for a moment. He prayed that Nikolai wouldn't ask him to stay, he didn't know that he'd be able to say no if he did. He turned to look at the man. Nikolai took a moment, steeling his face before saying, "If you need anything, just ask. I would be more than happy to help."

Price understood the weight of the words. He understood what the other man was telling him. He could feel his heart stuttering in his chest and he could certainly feel tears rushing to his eyes now. He didn't let them fall yet, he just nodded his head to the man before weakly replying, "Thank you, Nik."

He left the garage without another word, making his way toward the plane that would take himself and MacMillan back to their base. If his Captain noticed him wiping tears from his face he didn't say anything. Price felt sick. He could feel regret bubbling up in his chest. He'd done the right thing, but he knew that he'd also set himself up for a lifetime of wanting. A lifetime of looking, but never touching. A lifetime of pain when the other man eventually moved on. He knew, beyond anything, that he'd set himself up for failure.

Masterlist

#captain price #captain john price #john price #price x nikolai #nikprice #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 fanfic #cod #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #captain price fanfiction #cod nikolai #cod price

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cookiesupplier · 1 year ago

Text

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Five

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology. (potentially more to be added)

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Unbetaed.. Enjoy!

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything.

After work finished, they had to decide what they were going to do for lunch, and Folio well, he thought that instead of going to someplace to sit in a restaurant where he figured they could be overheard, maybe would be better if they went to one of their apartments. So they were in his. His apartment was, well, it was a little bit of a chaotic disaster. Okay, he was all over the place and so was his apartment, so sue him..

“Folio, now I know why you don’t invite us over much.”

Ellie giggled a little, and Folio just rolled his eyes,

“Hey, it's clean, it's chaos yes, but it's clean.”

Of course, Jolly had to add his two cents in,

“Hoarder’s R’ Us Folio, that’s what it is.”

Damn, Noah had the gall to laugh behind him as both Nicholas and him came in behind them, carrying the bags of Chinese and bakery desserts that they’d promised to pick up along the way when they met them here. Folio remembered to glare at the demon when he thought about the fact he didn’t have to drink that awful smoothie this morning that Ellie had made him drink as the punishment,

“Traitor.”

Noah just smirked a little at him, he knew, he absolutely knew what Folio was talking about too, he could see it in his eyes, but with a glance at his girlfriend who was currently looking through Folio’s pretty sick record collection, if he did say so himself, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Well, look at that, Jolly was right, if that wasn’t some sort of Pavlov conditioning shit right there, Ellie had him wrapped around her little pinkie. If Folio didn’t know how easily that man could snap every bone in his body with his bare hands, he would think he was just a pathetic nothing of a demon that had no clue right about now. Wow.

“Damn, Noah, whipped.”

Now it was Folio who was grinning at the other, and oh, that got him, Noah glared at him this time, fire flickering in the demon’s eyes as they narrowed, his head tilted with a dangerous expression, promising he’d regret the teasing if he wasn’t careful.

“Least I can ask a girl on a date.”

Folio groaned, cheap shot, rolling his eyes as they all walked into his apartment and towards his dining table, as they walked through, he went by the kitchen and grabbed some plates, cups, and everything they needed to bring to the table. When they got to the large rectangular hardwood table, Folio said everything down, so they could start putting out the food. Hopefully, they would act like civilised adults about it.

“I’ve asked out plenty of people, okay.”

“But not the one that counts, Folio. Of course, that's why we’re here, to help.”

He’d gone to retort back to Nicholas with that jibe, well, it would have been far more of a jibe had Noah said it, with that smirk on his face still, but Nicholas was always a bit different. Sure, they all could make fun of each other, but Nicholas tried to help more than would kick him right now. Okay, so, Noah would help him too, but not without teasing him mercilessly at the same time, Folio would argue that until he was blue in the face!

Once they were all sitting around the table it was a tight fight to get them all there, sort of comfortably anyway. Folio hadn’t had them all there at once before, at most, he’d sometimes had the guys around for card games, but he never thought Ellie would be interested in those. Those nights, they used his couches to hang out, drinking beers, and snacking, while they played cards, and joked around. Maybe next time he’d talk Ellie into coming, she might like it, after all, she’d probably be fantastic at bluffing, and cut Noah down for size too! Finally, they had a secret weapon against his tricks.

Ellie took a bit of her chow mien, humming thoughtfully,

“So, Folio, tell me about this barfly thing, what's the issue there.”

He shrugged, munching on his food as contemplated how to answer before swallowing.

“I used to be a bartender when I was alive, and it was always this thing when people would hang around the bar flirting with us, asking us out, trying to get our numbers.. And it would never stop. It would go on and on, never-ending.. It came to the point, we called them barflies, and that we’d have to swat them away from the bar when they became too much of a nuisance.

Folio explained away the term, using his hand to do a shooing motion when he talked about swatting before shrugging slightly, he’d thought that they would have gotten it before, honestly, he didn’t know that it wasn’t common knowledge.

“But.. Folio, you’re always flirting with Ishtar.”

He glanced up from poking at his noodles, and across the table towards Ellie, yea, he did, he didn’t see the problem.

“Of course, she’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Talks about her family all the time, she’s named after her mom you know.. Yeah.. right guys? Guys?”

Folio was looking to Noah and Nicholas for confirmation to support him, and they both nodded before he just barrelled forward as soon as they did.

“And did you know, that every piece of jewellery she’s worn she made herself? Not to mention, she likes to experiment with new drinks all the time. Last week she made this fantastic peppermint mixed shot, you remember it, Jolly, when we went to trivia night.”

Jolly looked thoughtful as he took a drink of his water as he considered Folio, how animated he was, talking about Ishtar, they all knew how he felt for her, but the way he was talking about her.. Hearing him go on about her, just showed pure passion. Finally he conceded.

“Yeah, it was good.”

“Good? Dude, it was freaking fantastic!”

“Oh, my god.. Folio.. Here I thought you were already a barfly to her, you aren’t a barfly at all, no, no, this is so much worse, poor, poor, Folio.”

Folio looked back to Ellie from Jolly wide-eyed, what, what was wrong?

“You, dear Folio, are just a complete simp for Ishtar.”

Groaning he rolled his eyes, before swallowing his bite of food and grinning slowly gestured towards her with a tilt back of his head and a lift of his chin,

“You say that Ellie like it's a bad thing, if anyone deserves my devotion, it is Ishtar, she is deserving of everything I could offer her in the world.”

Holding a hand over his heart dramatically as he spoke of everything he could offer her.

“And what exactly, can you offer her, Folio?”

Noah smirked, asking as he took a bit of his food, being an absolutely smart arse only for the next second to groan in pain, and it took a second for Folio to realise what happened. Glancing at the way that Noah looked over at his girlfriend, he couldn’t help but snicker at the way the almost betrayed looked on his face, if he could get, she’d kicked him under the table.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

“Man, someone had to do it, might as well have been her.”

Nicholas grinned as he took a bite of his egg roll just as Folio decided to answer the question anyway,

“How about my unending loyalty, which, let me remind you, you offer Ellie, so it's not like you can argue with that, now can you.”

Smirking as Noah rolled his eyes from across the table.

“Please, I can-”

“Are you really going to argue the merits of our relationship that started with you lying to me?”

And just like that.. The table went quiet.

Shit.

“If you really want to be an asshole today, babe, then face the facts, Folio has a leg up on you in that department, so suck it up.”

Folio just stared at the two across the table, shittttt that was nasty, but at the same time, he loved her for it, she was defending him, and he was all for that! On the other hand.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

Noah said dead panned at the way she looked at him challengingly with a raised eyebrow, and Folio just couldn’t help watching, rapt to attention, this was better than soap opera right now!

“Nope, not while your sitting here tormenting your friends.. not they're safe either.”

Glancing across the table.. Oh, crap. The smile on her face, and he knew they were buggered, they were all in for it if she was going to hold it against them too, he could see it now, doomed, just doomed.

“Thanks Nicholas.”

The one to blame for said ammunition she had over all of them. Bugger. The quiet demon lord at least looked sheepish at this. Noah, however, shook his head,

“Fine, sorry, Folio.”

Noah, begrudgingly apologised across the table, and between Folio glanced at Jolly and Nicholas, and as much as he wanted to be annoyed at the other demon at the table knowing Ellie had fodder against all of them now due to him, it was rather of amusing watching her wrangle Noah like that. Seeing the looks on the other two faces, he had a feeling that they both agreed about how amusing this was as well.

“Okay, back to the whole point of why we are here then, shall we? Folio. Game plan time!”

He grinned over to Ellie now and nodded, yes,

“Yes!.. Ideas, I need ideas. So.. for me, if she asks me out, or at least for my number first, then I’m not a barfly.. Because it means she doesn’t consider me annoying. She doesn’t consider me someone worth swatting.”

Nodding quickly, that made perfect sense to him, and he hummed as he took another beautiful of food as he glanced around the table as the others looked thoughtful..

“Okay, so, in that case, there is just one problem.”

Oh no.. no, no.. Folio didn’t want there to be a problem, he really didn’t want there to be a problem..

“What Jolly?”

“Sorry, man, but she’d had years to ask you out.. And she hasn’t, why not?”

Well, that just killed his appetite. Not that it wasn’t something that Folio had thought about before, that she has had the chance to ask him out time and time again.

“I swear, she flirts with me all the time, she does. I swear it, and it’s not just for tips. If it was just for tips, then.. I’m sorry Ellie, I am, then why would she try and help me win my challenges against Noah.. Fuck. Sometimes she gives him the good booze, and sometimes she doesn’t.”

At that, Ellie tilted her head thoughtfully remembering how much worse Noah had been last night, as much as she had hated it, Folio was right, and Nicholas looked over towards him,

“You know what, I’ve never understood that, shouldn’t they give the proper drinks all the time? You order the drinks, right? It’s not like you order specifically, the bad the drinks.”

Folio sighed,

“Are you kidding? How do you guys not know?”

Glancing between Nicholas, Noah and Jolly.. Ellie hadn’t been around that long so he knew she didn’t know but, the guys.. He’d always thought they knew,

“Bout a year before I got out of punishment some guy named Tony took over management of the bar, and he is a massive asshole, he tells all the bartenders to hold the drinks back so people will come back and drink more as if he actually makes money.. He’s human, and still thinks like he’s working in a human bar. Treats his employees like shit-”

“How do you know this?”

Folio looks over to Noah as he cut him off for his question,

“Because I talk to Ishtar, I do more than just flirt with her over drinks and talk about her pretty jewellery you know.. I’m not completely inept! We talk about all sorts of things.”

“What if it's the bar?”

Folio glanced to Ellie now, thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow at the question,

“What?”

“What if that's why she hasn’t asked you out? Because she only knows you through work, and I’m sorry Folio, to her, you are a version of a barfly, she only knows you across the bar. What if she needs to see you outside of work?”

Folio paused.. He didn’t like that idea, he didn’t like being any sort of version of a barfly at all. But… it wasn’t him that spoke next as he sunk lower in his seat.

“That’s possible.. But how could we make sure they run into each other, stalk the girl?”

Jolly asking with a raised eyebrow, sceptical, and Nicholas spoke up with a shake of his head,

“I think that would be going a bit far.”

Folio groaned, his head thumping back in his chair, he’d never seen Ishtar outside the bar, he had no idea where she lived, or where she liked to go, or anything.. Sure he could have asked her more about her personal life than he already had, but it felt like crossing a line unless she wanted to go out with him.. He’d always tried to keep getting to know her on a level that was easy going, and fun, not, stalkery. He didn’t want to be creepy.

Ellie watched Folio across the table, sighing softly to herself, he looked so defeated, and she hated to see it. They couldn’t know for sure unless they found out, and as much he might not like it, the best way to find out, would be to ask her, so, she would.

“Let me take care of it Folio, I’ll find out for you. Either, way, you’ll know.”

Divider by @saradika-graphics

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atsadi-shenanigans · 1 year ago

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Feeding Alligators 34 - Fireside Chats

Y'all take a breather. Leaving you and Astarion on first watch.

Rated M for language and violence (once the sex stuff hits it'll go to E). Updates Saturdays and Wednesdays.

On AO3.

No one has the energy to march back out, and Gale is fresh out of mojo. None of y’all want to camp in the creepy fucking swamp lair, but the alternative is free range bog. You literally feel your White ancestors shushing you, it’ll be fine, the bad thing is gone, is that oakwood flooring?

Amongst all the shuffling and the “what the fuck was that noise”, Shadowheart finds a horde of herbs. A decent chunk of them is the mergrass Gale needs to brew dirt potion, thank fucking god.

You took the fewest injuries, and as Ethel’s dirt potion still works, you take the first watch with Astarion (creepy murder hag house needs two people, no splitting up, your Cherokee ancestors rejoice).

Dinner is cold cheese and slightly stale bread. No one complains; nobody wants to trust Ethel’s stove or fireplace. Probably some kind of murder pit waiting to be activated. Y’all don’t explore much, either. Even Astarion lingers closer to the tent huddle than usual (and they did all put up tents; it’s a psychological thing, you’re sure). He’s quieter, than usual, hands still and unmoving at his sides.

He’s actually too still, now that you look. Barely breathing, gaze shifting around and restless. But the rest of him is unmoving. The hag had been shouting insults at all y’all, and had said something to him about being leashed at one point.

“You alright?” you say, seating yourself nearby.

He blinks. Eyes track to you. “Oh yes, just fine, darling.”

It’s like dropping a quarter into one of them old mechanical pony rides stores used to have outside the front door. A chunk, and a pink unicorn—paint sun-faded and chipped—surges into movement. His face hitches up in a micro expression (smug, sass, all the usual). His breathing increases to what might almost be normal. Even his hands flutter back to life.

Huh.

“How’re you doing food-wise?” you say. “Or, y’know, blood-wise?”

“You’re awfully concerned about my health this evening, aren’t you?” His eyelids droop into that silly, flirtatious dip. “Offering me a snack?”

“Still too soon. And we just fought a hag, which everyone was right about her being a nightmare. So yeah, wanted to make sure you don’t got acid melting through your foot or nothing, sue me.”

“Mmm.” He settles his chin in his hand, one finger tracing up the side of his face. Regards you. “So, how’s the tethering potion working for you?”

Fucking blood potion. Nasty ass, fucking vile thing. The only benefit you feel is the kind of exhaustion has shifted (less depression monotony, more muscles crying in agony) and the chronic headache has, blessedly, fucked right off.

So maybe it’s worth it.

He notices all of this, of course. His smile widens. Vampire man must find this hilarious.

“What’s it taste like, to you?” you say. “Blood, I mean?”

His eyebrows lift. He looks up, thinking. “Animal blood is all plonk compared to—other things. But leagues better than the rats and bugs Cazador deigned to give me.”

Add another bullet point to your list of “reasons to kill that fuckface.”

“What do I taste like?” you say, right as Shadowheart emerges from her tent. She arches a solitary eyebrow and you can feel her judgment. “My blood! I meant my blood, not some kinda, uh, innuendo.”

She makes a “sure, Jan” face and proceeds to leave the circle for the door leading outside. Nature must be calling.

So obviously Astarion grins like a lecher. Bastard.

“Hmm, what do you taste like,” he says. To your surprise, he shifts past the leer and actually seems to consider the question. “Warmth, first and foremost. Salty and savory, but with a hint of spices, rather like a mulled wine.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, I quite enjoyed it.”

You ain’t blushing. You’re almost blushing? Why in the fuck would that make you blush? Bastard has two modes: flirt and murder hobo, and he only ever means the latter.

Things are so weird, here. The people are weird, the monsters are weird, and apparently it’s contagious.

“So blood is like booze for you?” you say because you gotta shift the tone here.

“Mmm. They are rather alike, aren’t they?”

Unfortunately, being in the middle of a hag house, y’all did not light a fire on her floor. So there ain’t no flames to distract you, and you both sit there for a good moment or two. Watch Shadowheart come back and she absolutely does not give you a “I see you two sitting together over there” glare.

“So,” Astarion says with a goddamn tone. “As a fellow blood drinker—”

“It’s a drop from each of you and it’s cooked with leaves and mushrooms and shit.”

“As a fellow blood drinker, who’s your favorite? I’ve only tasted you, darling, but you’ve sampled the full spread, as it were. Lucky thing.”

“All I taste is like licking an iron pipe.”

“What?” He sounds genuinely surprised. Then he clicks his tongue. “Such a waste.”

You shrug. “No vampire senses, I guess.”

He processes that. An odd look crosses his face and disappears again. And then he’s back to smarm. “So, in the spirit of theoretical questions, if you could taste anything besides that wretched description, which of our dearest companions would you take a mouthful of?”

…is that an innuendo? That sounds like an innuendo. Goddamn, the man never stops. No wonder he’s got a pile of lovers back in his hometown.

It also sounds like he’s actually asking your opinion on which one to nibble first.

“This is theoretical, right?”

He places a hand lightly over his heart, the wikipedia banner image of solemn. “Of course. I’ve wondered about Gale, myself. He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined as a well-aged brandy.”

Gale is a wizard, and they’re probably snooty, yeah? Except Gale has more than a dash of awkwardness in there.

“And then there’s the gith,” he says. “What in the hells do you think she tastes like?

You know jack shit about alcohol. Try to think of some way to add to this conversation without revealing that (people get weird about it).

But he beats you to that non-alcoholic punch. Fake gasps and looks at you, all smugly scandalized. “Oh, but that’s right. You told our dearest Blade that you don’t drink.”

And the man casually leans in to pat your fucking cheek. You jerk back, swipe at him. But he’s already retreating out of range, and continuing on because he’s fucking horrible like that. “You poor, poor thing. That must be so boring, darling. How sheltered are you, exactly?”

Extremely, in some ways. And aggressively not in other ways on very, very purpose because your mother and her band of psychos can fuck right off into the sun, you’re a goddamn adult, fuck you very much.

“You eavesdrop on the regular?” you say.

He taps the pointed tip of his long ear. “Darling, when you have my hearing, you learn everything about everyone in camp.”

…good to know, holy shit.

“I bet Lae’zel is sour,” you say, shoving this conversation back on track. “Like, really sour. Maybe a gamy undertone.”

He pauses, opens his mouth. Shuts it and taps his finger to his chin. “Hmm. You might be right.”

“You, uh, you looking at other necks?”

His smirk morphs into a malicious sneer. “Oh, don’t worry, there’s enough of me to go around. I’m a man of tremendous appetites. Still this is just a little team bonding, eh? Good for morale and all?”

You…feel like he’s saying something else. You ain’t sure what, like hearing a voice in another room but unable to pick out a single word. And before you can try to work on that he changes the subject.

“So, you don’t like drinking? Surely the benefits outweigh the taste?” he says.

Honestly, that gets you more questions than almost anything else (the top contender is the lack of bed partners, because people get real weird about that so you don’t bring it up). They assume it’s a religious thing. And maybe that did keep you from developing a taste earlier in life, but you’d tried plenty ever since (out of spite) and they’re all horrifying.

“Not really,” you say, and stick out your tongue in what you hope is the universal “blurgh” face. “I can drink it in other stuff, sometimes, but I’d just rather not.”

“You dislike bitter things. Noted.”

Did…did he just turn that into some kinda innuendo? Because his tone suggests it is, but the words make no damn sense and you stare at him for a hot minute.

“You’re being real weird tonight,” you say. And immediately regret being so forward and the first twinge of panic uncurls beneath your lungs.

But he only grins and leans back on his hands. “We just murdered a hag, my dear, as you noted. Is it a crime to bask in our victory?”

Everyone and everything was so scared of her. Those still-living people below had been trapped so long. Even Gandrel, a professional monster hunter, was wary of her.

“Guess not,” you say.

“Thank you. And you never did answer my question, you know.” At your blank stare, “If you could properly sample anyone here, who would it be?”

Six tents, yours and his included. Nobody did their extra stuff today—no writing desk for Gale or practice dummies for Lae’zel. Just a closed tent and a bedroll within. You suspect y’all will be hoofing out the second y’all can in the morning, this entire place be damned. The tents are all, to your ears, quiet.

“I dunno,” you say. “Guess it depends on what makes blood taste different. You said it’s life force, right? So wouldn’t someone like, say, Wyll, be better than Gale? Just cause he’s younger? Or is it experience? Fitness? Is diet a factor? I mean, if somebody eats chocolate, it puts sugars and hormones into the bloodstream. Does that alter what you get outta it?”

Now it’s his turn to stare. To blink. “I don’t really know, darling. This is theoretical.”

“Do you want to know?” Because you do. Sweat smells different when the body processes alcohol. Urine smells different depending on vegetable consumption. “The human—er the body is basically a big, interwoven chemistry set. Whole thing is run on chemicals and hormones. So tweaking some a those ought to affect what you get out of it. Unless it’s all magical, vampire bullshit stuff. But we could experiment, maybe? If you wanted?”

And now a slight frown folds the skin between his brows. You’ve gone and overdone it again. Fuck.

“Wyll,” you blurt. “I’d try Wyll.”

He pauses, and then smooths back into that delighted grin. “Ah, I was thinking the same. All that self-righteous heroics. Honestly, that man.”

See? He flirts with everybody. Guy is just a flirty nut. But you two’ve established the foundations of a game, so you look at him. Hold that eye contact while keeping your face blank in the way most other people find intimidating (it’s not anything, you’re literally just holding still).

Astarion, shockingly, only rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I have no intention of snacking on our beloved teammates.” Sweeps his gaze to your neck. “Aside from one. When she permits me to end my agony.”

Good lord, this guy. He really is punch drunk off this fight.

“I honestly started feeling a lot better a lot quicker than when I donated back home,” you say. “I’ll ask how that all works in the morning when Gale potions me up. See if the healing juice speeds up red cell production. If it does, maybe you can tap in more often.”

Blood and dirt. What an exciting flavor profile. You almost fold into a groan.

“Really?” Astarion says. There’s the barest tremble to his voice. The lightest touch of what you could almost describe as incredulity.

Acknowledging something that skittish would only send it sprinting off. So you continue as if you hadn’t noticed. “Sure. If you want to?”

And then he leans in. Like, leans in, and his eyelids drop. “Oh darling, I will eat you right up.”

Oookay. You know he’s ridiculous, but the man is upping it to the nth degree. What an absolute goober.

He settles back before you can shove his head. You have to settle for a brushing motion with your fingers. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your fangs in your mouth please.”

The man full on simpers. Clucks his tongue, even. And in the most oozing, sleaziest tone imaginable, “Oh, you sweet, generous thing. I’ll be waiting.”

He’s just too much. You still feel yourself smile, though.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

#feeding alligators fic #these two shitheads #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #astarion fic #tavstarion #astarion x tav #slow burn #plus size tav #demisexual tav #isekai #astarion is a dork #eleanor doesn't register actual flirting #she just thinks he's funny #funny as in weird

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hollowfaith · 9 months ago

Note

2 canon muses, 2 fandoms, 2 tunglr - im tossing you the same one's back lol

Questions for the mun

cut again, brief mention of idk violence/stabbing as an analogy

What is your favorite canon muse?

it's a tie between this sword (kasen kanesada, touken ranbu):

and this murderer (dahlia hawthorne, ace attorney):

kasen i like a lot because of the way he talks—he's very flowery so i get to go ham with the posts which is a rare treat (im a sucker for pretty prose). the language in his RP posts are a character all themselves i feel, and depending on the phrasing and words i choose they can set up very specific vibes that either complement or contrast his character/dialogue, making for very nuanced/layered threads.

dahlia is just, well, very freeing and i love her simultaneously playing sweet and nasty at the same time; she has a very keen sense of where to poke people, so she can be as subtle as a needle or as blunt (sharp?) as a knife thru the gut. i think her interactions with izaya were very fun when he was still around altho my RPing was rather raw then, but honestly put her with anyone who can trade barbs effectively and it's a win.

Are you happy with how your favorite canon muse was portrayed in canon?

yes! i appreciate TKRB exploring both kasen's "cultured" side and his more brutal personality in battle, and i love how over the top they went to make dahlia this ethereal fairy-like being with her own BGM and butterflies before it all goes to hell in a handbasket : )

In what fandom did you start?

honestly my first foray into tumblr RP was with Xiaolongnü from return of condor heroes, a chinese wuxia novel, but that didn't last past a month. i probably wouldn't RP her now because i realize im not too good with icy/stoic characters and she's a frost goddess thru and thru...

Have you ever developed an OC for a certain fandom?

not seriously. i mean, some games like TKRB and PGR have you as the self-insert protagonist right and i've imagined what mine would look like, but i've never dove deep into making them actual individuals besides like, listing their hobbies and stuff? even for FFXIV i tried for a bit and then just decided my wol would be "me, but elezen with purple hair."

i'm not good at making OCs for established fandoms because i think i'd just want to make an impossibly perfect mary sue that everyone will love which—in that case, why not make a literal mary sue and play the heck out of her tropes? which i did and enjoy much better n.n

What’s something you wish to improve?

bring back editable reblogs tumblr dangit

What new addition would make your Tumblr experience so much better?

in fact implement ALL THE XKIT ADD-ONS TUMBLR literally everything we've ever wanted is all in there!!

#kleinstar #𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔶 ࿐ answered #𝔒𝔱𝔦𝔲𝔪 𓄖 ooc

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paigenoelchas-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Feels Like Home

16: Fight or Flight

Warnings: horror references and haunted house type situations. I don't believe it is scary, but I am a little in the dark side.

The lights on the path have an orangish glow. They lead the way to the haunted house. Every once in a while, someone jumps out of the bushes and tries to scare us.

"Amateurs," I say to her in a low voice. "I will protect you, love" I giggle at her and reach around her from behind, surrounding her in my arms.

She is adorable in every way.

There it stands in the middle of the square. The oldest house in town. The Blythe Mansion. It is an old house, but not decrepit. It is quite beautiful in its own way. Painted black, its yellow slightly askew overhang gives the feeling of an old timely horror movie. The windows are clouded over so that shadows and light are all that is visible. Tombstones placed in the front yard and the smoke created by a smoke machine add to the ambiance. A metal fence with spikes surround the property. The oak trees in the front yard sway and moan in the wind, owls hoot, the clouds roll across the sky, dragging along leaves from the maple trees that are shedding their weight for the winter. Two weekends a year, this mansion in a little town in the middle of the forest, one which was presumed to be truly haunted, gets to shine.

"I know it is something that I should have said earlier, but I don't like to be scared." She confesses.

"Then why on Earth do you want to go to a haunted house, Love?"

"Because I've never had some one that I trusted enough to go with me. I never want to let fear control me."

"I am honored. I promised I won't let you go. I will keep you safe."

She smiles and kisses my cheek. "I know I will be safe with you".

"Let's get some coffee to drink while we're in line," I say.

"I love you for many reasons, but your desire to fill me with coffee is high on the list." She kisses my cheek.

We grab drinks and notice how long the line is. I look around for Betty and Phillip, but I don't see them anywhere. I guess we're are going through this just the two of us.

"Perhaps we should have gotten here sooner? I don't see Betty or Philip." I apologize. "Do you want me to try and track them down?"

"It's fine. We have all night. Besides, waiting in line gives us more time for this." She wraps my arms around her from the back and leans against my chest facing out. Our fingers interlace and she occasionally raises my hand to her mouth and kisses my palm. I kiss her head and generally enjoy this feeling of closeness, one that I thought I had found and then lost and then found again.

I hold her as the line slowly moves. We joke and I kiss her forehead and whisper in her ear. She laughs. It is nice. These little moments that lead to a real love. These little moments are what makes a life.

She is nervous as we are the next in line. We have to sign a disclaimer that says we can't sue if we die or some nonsense like that. She quickly signs the document as do I and then our hands find each other again.

"Come on, you two, the time has arrived." A man dressed as a zombie butler says, "Welcome to the Blythe mansion where abnormalities abound. Mind your heads as you travel about. Beware. Not all who enter will survive."

He walks us to the door, his mouth sags on one side and one of his legs drags behind him. His act is good. Mahri seems to have bought into it. I smile as I watch her. She loves to live life and allows herself feel all of its moments. I love the way she is fully invested in everything she tries.

The double door in front of us creaks open. It is ten feet tall with black wooden panels that creep up to a curved point in the middle and is inlaid with images of life and death.

She is already burying her face in my shoulder. I squeeze her hand. "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Yes, positive," she says and forces herself to stand up taller.

We are greeted by a housemaid, pale, with hollow eyes. She is wearing a traditional maid uniform, black and white. She is a young, but a tiny woman whose hands look gnarled as she reaches them out to us.

"We must hurry," she says leading us toward a set of doors, heavy and laden with spiderwebs. "I heard a scream and the master isn't home," she continues.

The inside of this mansion is even more imposing than the outside. The foyer that we are standing in has twelve foot ceilings painted red an a sickly shade of crimson. The black velvet covered furniture is gorgeous and must be original to the house. A black crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The shelves have been decorated to the brim with skulls and potions, rats in cages, sorcery books and carefully placed spiderwebs add to the effect. A picture in the wall has eyes that follow as we move across the room. To the left, a raven bellows, "Danger, danger to all who enter here." Bats fly high in the ceiling, their bodies hanging from the rafters. In the air, music from an untuned piano fills the air.

The housemaid continues on. "Follow me," she beckons, looking nervous and rushed. "The sound came from just down this hallway." The hall seems to be a little too narrow and a little too tall somehow. The wallpaper is an ornate mauve and pink rose pattern and the door jambs are painted black. The pictures on the wall have eyes that move wherever you go. Discordant piano music gets louder the farther that you move into the mansion.

"Stop!" The maid screams suddenly and puts a finger up to her lips. As she does this a black figure begins to approach from the end of the hallway. It grows taller and skinnier as he comes closer. This shadow continues to climb up the wall. The housemaid shudders and hides in the corner. Shadowman's finger resemble the branches of the trees outside, coming to sharp points at the end. He lurks in the corners and searches for any soul to disarm like a dog searching for his prey.

My hand is losing circulation. Mahri is holding tight to me and there is not even a shred of space between the two of us . She is breathing quickly. "Love, it's ok," I whisper, leaning in to his her on the head. She looks up with a weak smile and eyes full of resolve.

The figure on the wall comes closer and seems to sniff around the hallway waiting for a movement or a sound escaping from someone's lips. I'm now not sure if Mahri is breathing. The shadow hovers briefly near Mahri's head. After a few seconds, it huffs, seemingly finding nothing, and turns to move past us and into the foyer.

"We must keep moving," the maid encourages us along, "the screaming was so terrible. We have to find out what has happened. "

Taking a deep breath and switching sides with Mahri so I can give my hand a break, we walk down an excruciatingly long hallway. This part of the hallway is covered with windows on both sides. On one side, we see a doctor's laboratory. It is gruesome. A doctor, wearing a blood stained lab coat, leans over a body with a gruesome smile. Fluorescent lights dangle above his head blinking and flashing. The room is painted an off putting green. The nurse wears a grotesque amount of lipstick and her eyes are hollow and overdone with makeup, her dress is bloodstained and torn and entirely too small. She hands the wide eyed doctor rudimentary surgical tools as he removes internal organs from a patient that lay on the table. The patient is awake, his mouth is taped shut and his eyes are taped open. The tape on his mouth can't stop the screaming. There is blood everywhere. The joy that the doctor took in this process is obvious and his maniacal laugh almost drowns out the terrible piano music, still ringing in the air.

On the other side, we see some creepy twins singing an even creepier song. The girls have their hair is in ponytails and they are in matching dresses and Mary Jane's. There playroom is full of toys that are dirty and falling apart as is everything else. The wallpaper is pulling from the walls and the ceiling appears to be dripping some sort of liquid. Everything is grey except the girls and their brightly colored dresses. One girl looks at me and smiles a sinister grin as she takes a knife out of her back pocket. Before I can find out what happens, we are told to proceed down the hallway. I hear the scream of one of the girls and shudder.

Mahri's face is white. I think she is still breathing.

I whisper in her ear, "Are you ok?

She nods, "I am doing this." She grabs my hand tighter. I kiss the top of her head and we keep walking.

The hall suddenly gets tighter. The maid ahead of us says, "Just a few more feet and we will enter the master's office. This is where the noise came from." Suddenly, the walls open up and hands start reaching for us. One grabs Mahri's arm and I hear a blood-curdling scream escape from her mouth. I have never heard anything that loud, that terrified, come out of someone's mouth before. It is even more terrifying when it is out of the mouth of the woman you love.

I pull her to the side. "We are leaving. Where's the way out?" I quickly ask the housemaid. "There is no way out. It is written on the disclaimer. Did you read it? You have to go through in a timed manner. Once you enter, you can't leave except through the proper exit." She is whispering. This is the first time she has broken character.

"I was distracted when I signed the document. She is going to panic."

"We can try to move a little faster, but there are groups in front of us and we can't pass them and ruin their experience."

"The hell we can't." I raise my voice.

"I will be fine," Mahri interrupts and kisses my cheek. "The poor girl is just doing her job. We can get through this together. Please, let's not make a scene."

"Are you sure?" She nods warily. "

"I believe that we can make it through. Hold tight to me." I say to her and then look toward the housemaid. "I am sorry. We will continue."

The maid smiles slyly and says, "Thank you." She quickly slides right back into character as she leads us to the next part of the mansion.

Mahri seems to have more color on her face. She is taking some deep breaths and trying to regain her composure. We continue to head down to the end of the hallway. A door sits at the end it is, at once, inviting and terrifying. It is heavy metal door full of engravings that I can not comprehend. The metal has dents coming from the inside that looks as though someone had been trying desperately to get out. I notice a lock on the side and a strong deadbolt. Our guide has a key around her neck.

"The lady of the house was in here before I heard the scream. I have no idea what we are about to see. Please come with me." The maid informs us and then turn to unlock the door. Inside is a formal office. The walls are painted green. A big oak desk sits in the back of the room. The shelves are filled with books, some of which have been flung onto the floor along with various papers, a globe, and feathers frown the cushion of the desk chair. Along the wall and the desktop are deep scratches as if from an animal. Tufts of hair are attached to a hat rack and the side of a now broken mirror. I hear a soft groan coming from a closed door. Then I hear it again, a whimper this time. I thought it was coming from Mahri, but she was just standing there, eyes wide and wet. The sound is coming from behind the closed door.

"Please, someone help me." I hear from the secret room.

I am torn. I know this is part of the game and I promised not to leave Mahri's side or make her feel more afraid. I also know that I can't leave until I open that door and get through this challenge.

I lean over to Mahri and whisper, "The way I see it is this, we have to solve this problem if we ever want to get out of here. Once we are free, Then we can have a a couple of drinks, listen to some music, maybe take that hayride around town, kiss. But we have to face whatever is behind that door first. Do you think we can do it?"

She takes a deep breath and takes my hand "We have to. Don't let go."

"I promise, we will do it together." I say and kiss her hand. She is still a little flushed and her breathing is shallow. "You ready?"

She nods. We walk toward the door together her hand in mine. I have given up hope that I will be able to feel my fingers again. I look around, but the housemaid is gone.

I open the door where the noises are coming from and a woman, bloody and disheveled runs out, tears streaming down her face. Her hair which was once nicely done has been set into disarray and her mascara is streaming down her cheeks. The heel on one of her shoes is broken. She is frantic, panicked even.

"One minute I was in the office talking to my husband, and the next minute, he was changing..." she was hysterical "...into this monster. I locked myself in the closet after he got my arm." I look down to see scratch marks that match the ones on the desk and the walls. She stops all of the sudden then holds a finger up to her mouth. "Hide," she whispers, "he is coming back. I can hear him. She runs back inside the closet and locks the door, leaving us to face whatever was headed our way.

"Remember," this is a haunted house. It isn't real. We are strong. We can through this together." I smooth her hair trying to calm her. My arm slides around her waist and she tucks her head closer to me, but she won't hide her eyes. She has to know what is going on, hiding her face would be worse.

"It seems real though, my fear is real." She says honestly

"I know. You want to conquer this fear though, let's conquer it together." I would take her away in a heartbeat, but at this point she would regret leaving and giving in to these feelings.

It is then that I hear it a low growl coming from a door I hadn't seen before. It gets louder and deeper and the floor seems to rumble.

Mahri spins around and I see two eyes reflecting the light the way a dog's eyes reflect a flashlight. The eyes move closer inside the doorway. Mahri is stiff and still. The animal begins to move toward us now. I see fur and muscles, teeth and claws coming quickly. I don't know if these people are allowed to touch us. I spin to put Mahri behind me, but she won't let me. All of the sudden, she comes to life. She lets go of my hand and runs toward the creature. She is screaming. The sound is guttural and unhinged. She runs straight at him and before I can stop her, she punches him in the face. The combination of the running and the punch knock him flat to the ground.

My mouth hangs open in disbelief. She is crying and laughing a little in the release of all of the tension that had been building up.

We have to get out of there before they catch us, so we run. We run past the creepy clowns, past the garden of dolls, past two groups that were in front of us, one of which seemed oddly familiar, we run past Freddy Kruger and past the window in which Michael Meyers was ready to slay us. We run out the back door and don't stop laughing until we are at the bar.

"I guess you conquered your fear." I said. I am actually quite proud of her, not for hitting someone but for being brave and facing her fears. She is brave and strong and incredibly sexy.

She chuckles, "I guess that's one way to look at it. I'm embarrassed. I hope that guy is ok." Her face is flushed but her smile hasn't left her face. Her words still carry a touch of laughter.

"He will be fine and you shouldn't be embarrassed. You should feel like the sexiest, most capable, incredible woman the world has ever seen."

I move in quickly and pull her body close to mine. With one hand on her ass, the other on the back of her neck, I kiss her. The kiss is aggressive, full of passion and lust. It is full of all of the desire that I have felt for her since they day we met. Then, it is also filled with the desire that I feel for her in this moment. Our tongues forcefully explore each other. She is moaning, inviting me to continue. My hand moves to the back of her head tangling in her hair, allowing me to increase the depth of the kiss and dangerously pulling her body closer to me with the other hand that is intensifying its grip in her ass. Her arms are tightening around my waist and threatening to pull me so close that I can't escape.

Watching her take down something that scared her, seeing her ability to adapt and overcome obstacles, make me want her even more. I am glad that we are in public or I would definitely be in trouble. Her kisses are passionate as well. I can tell that she also desires me. I feel as if, in this moment, that the world around us doesn't exist. We are the only two people that matter.

When we finally, and I mean finally because this kissing session is not quick, pull away, my heart continues to pound. I refuse to look away from her eyes which are now more gray than green. I am filled with love and lust, longing and desire, admiration and respect for this incredible woman in my arms.

One hand still rests on her ass the other is wiping her hair away from her face. Her hands are locked on my hips.

She smiles shyly at me.

"I guess no more haunted house for me." She said wryly.

"I don't know, watching you take that guy out was the most compelling thing I have ever seen anyone do."

"Compelling?" She asks.

"Yes, compelling. Seeing you conquer your fear and taking that guy down, makes me so proud and I think it is so..." I pause, looking for the right words. "... there are many ways that you are attractive to me. You have a lovely heart and a beautiful mind. You are gorgeous, from you sable hair to your emerald eyes, you are kind when you need to be and gentle when it is right. You are willing to forgive and love despite the consequences, but tonight, when you were able to fight back and not let fear overtake you, that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

"I freaked out and punched an innocent man and you thought that was sexy?"

I pull her tight again and lean into her ear, my voice low and full of desire, "Baby, you have no idea how sexy."

She looks up at me with eyes full of something I had never seen before today. She held that same look earlier. It is one that I can not read.

She opened her mouth to speak. Before the words come out, Betty walks up behind us.

"We waited for you all at the mansion, but you never showed up. For what it's worth, whatever has been happening here for the last fifteen minutes... that's good stuff. Steamy even. Nice work, loser." She says and punches me in the arm. "When you're finished come and join us. I owe you both a drink. I'm sure you are fucking parched from all of that kissing and ass grabbing, geez." I look over and see Philip giving me a mocking thumbs up. Mahri giggles.

I hang my head low, and rub Mahri's arms in resolve. I smile sympathetically at her and I am upset that our time has been disrupted, but part me is also thankful. If I am supposed to be taking this relationship slow, I definitely needed a distraction, even if that distraction is Philip.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood everbyte #jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #jake duskwood #duskwood fandom #everbyte #everbyte duskwood #everbyte studio #duskwood mc #duskwood episode 10

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helpistolethesecharacters · 3 years ago

Text

Hot Chocolate and Chill

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Word Count: 1644

This is pure fluff you guys! Thank you so much to the person who requested this, I need more fluff in my life and this is working toward that!

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

Y/n was certain he had never been more excited before. He couldn't stop himself from literally bouncing up and down as he made his way out of his last class of the day and toward his locker.

His friends just rolled their eyes and got out of the way. Y/n thought about feeling bad or trying to calm down, but then he would remember all over again that it was tonight.

He had been counting down all week to the time that he would be able to spend uninterrupted time with his boyfriend.

Peter had invited him for a sleepover after classes Friday, which, when he had suggested it on Monday had seemed like an eternity away.

But it was Friday and he had just been released from his last class. Nothing was going to stop him from being alone with Peter, and Y/n couldn't be happier.

He slammed the things he wouldn't need that weekend into his locker, slung his bag over one shoulder and took off in search of Peter, totally blanking on the need to close and lock his locker.

In the back of his mind he registered the long suffering sighs of his friends, but he was on a mission. There was no time to calm down, he had a boyfriend to track down.

It didn't take long, as he was still standing by his own locker talking to Ned. Y/n didn't stop to think, he just bounced over and launched himself at Peter.

Peter stumbled back a step as Y/n collided with him, but managed to keep them both standing. Y/n silently thanked the spider that had bitten Peter for the results as he none too subtly appreciated the muscles holding him up.

"Hi Y/n," came the resigned sigh from Peter's friend Ned.

"Yes, Tis I, The Amazing Y/n, come to light up your lives."

Okay, so he was feeling a little extra right now, sue him.

"You may now revel."

Peter and Ned lost it, which was the end of holding Y/n up. He pouted from his new spot beside Peter and waited for the two to stop laughing at him.

His pout gave way to the dopey grin that usually crept up on his face whenever he was looking at Peter for longer than a second. There was just something about his adorable dork of a boyfriend that made Y/n feel like he was floating.

Y/n subtly snuck his hand into Peter's while he waited for the other two to say their goodbyes. Luckily Peter was used to Y/n's actions and didn't startle even when he decided to hang over his shoulder.

"That's so gay!"

'Ugh, this guy,' thought Y/n as he turned to face Flash.

"You know, that isn't even an insult. We are in fact gay. Or I am at any rate, Pete's pan, right?"

Peter just nodded from beside Y/n.

Flash looked nonplussed.

"What? So you admit it, you really are gay? Ew!"

"You sure are stupid for someone who's supposed to be smart. That's like me saying, 'Oh, my God! You're such a person!'"

Y/n even affected an over the top pose to add to his effect.

"Ew, you're a person! That's so gross!"

Flash just looked confused at this point, which to be fair, that was a common response to people who weren't used to being near Y/n's particular brand of crazy, but still.

Y/n was going to go ahead and call that one a win. He and Peter turned away and ignored the bully.

Peter just looked at Y/n in shock as he heard Flash sputtering and stomping off behind them.

"That was amazing! I have to remember that for next time!"

Y/n grinned at his boyfriend, eternally grateful to which ever deity it was that had paired him up with someone who wasn't put off by his over the top personality like others had been.

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

May was watching from her place by the table in their kitchenette, bemused as Peter straightened one of the pillows on the couch for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He had been quietly freaking out for the better part of an hour now, and that was only the time he had been out in the main living areas. She was sure he had been freaking out in his room for much longer.

"I'm pretty sure he won't hold it against you if the pillow isn't in the exact right spot when he gets here."

May immediately regretted speaking when Peter's head shot up and he stared at her with the widest eyes possible. Oh, this was more than just normal anxiety. This was much more important than normal to him.

May unfolded herself and made her way over to her nephew.

"It's going to go just fine, you two are so happy together, I can't imagine anything causing a single night together to go wrong."

She held Peter close to her for as long as he would allow. He was growing up more and more every day, and didn't let her comfort him near as much as he used to, so she was going to savor this for as long as possible.

May felt Peter melt into the hug and was glad that at least she could still provide a little support, even if she couldn't fight every dragon for him anymore.

The door bell rang, startling them out of their hug, and Peter managed to trip over twice in his rush to get to the door as fast as possible.

May just shook her head at the thought of ever being so young and clearly in love.

She took her place by the table again after greeting Y/n. She had a cup of tea and a book calling her name.

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

Y/n looked around the living area of Peter's apartment, why he didn't know. It wasn't like it was his first time there after all, he had visited lots of times before. This time felt different for some reason though.

"Did you want something to drink?"

'Poor Peter,' Y/n thought, 'He looks just as nervous as I felt earlier.'

"I brought snacks and the makings for hot chocolate for our movie marathon. I can set up here while you sort out the drinks? Or are we watching in your room?"

Y/n handed over the bag that had the drink things in it and was pointed to the couch.

"Thank goodness you didn't have to patrol tonight. Are you sure it's okay to take the whole night off?"

"Yeah, I got someone to cover for me."

Y/n nodded and set about organising the snacks.

It didn't take them long to get settled with the assortment of snacks on the coffee table in front of them, their drinks close by and a movie playing on the TV.

It was a little awkward with neither of them wanting to step over any boundaries, especially with Peter's aunt sitting up at the table, but some time during the first movie they managed to relax enough to lean against each other.

By the time that the second movie was half finished Y/n was laying with his head on Peter's lap, no longer paying any attention to the movie because Peter was giving him the most amazing head massage and running his hands through Y/n's hair.

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

May made her way into the lounge area on her way out for her shift, but stopped at the sight that met her.

Peter and Y/n were curled up together on the couch fast asleep. She melted and tried not to coo too hard as she fished out her phone.

This called for proof, whether to blackmail or embarrass was still up for grabs.

As she closed the door and locked it from the outside, May was once again thankful that Peter wasn't the type to take advantage of being alone with someone he liked, so she didn't have to worry about them getting up to things they might not be ready for.

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Bonus Scene

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Mrs Rodrigez had been walking back from her daily walk down to the corner shop. She would never let on, but half the reason she made the time to come down each day was to see the sweet young man who always insisted on helping her cross the street.

She was surprised, and a little suspicious of the person who approached her that particular evening at the cross walk. Whoever they were, they were not her 'friendly neighbourhood spiderman' as he always insisted he was.

This man was wearing what appeared to be hardened red leather in an all over suit. He was also a lot older than her normal escort judging by his height and broad shoulders.

He had a very bad homemade cosplay mask of spiderman over what looked like another mask.

The man (she assumed) got close enough for her to read the words scrawled hastily across his chest in a messy hand.

'Spiderman! No really!'

Mrs Rodrigez fixed the man with a steely stare. She was 78, and like all older ladies, carried a large handbag that was filled with mostly useless junk that was just begging to be swung at him if he pulled anything she didn't like.

He had already gotten higher on her 'list' by pretending to be the younger vigilante. He was on thin ice as far as she was concerned.

"Hi! I can't help but notice that you are a helpless little old lady possibly in need of assistance across the street!"

The man offered her an arm, but was met with that steely stare being upped to an outright glare as she pulled him in close enough by that very same arm, to be nose to nose.

"If you've done anything to that sweet young man they will never find your body!"

#peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x male reader #Peter parker #male reader

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great.

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point.

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time.

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from.

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about.

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.”

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze

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goggles-mcgee · 4 years ago

Note

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.”

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then?

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.”

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out.

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her.

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.”

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?”

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped.

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

#wish me away #wish me away au #wish me away drabble #maribat #mldccrossover #mldccrossover Damian Wayne | Robin #mldccrossover Bruce Wayne | Batman #mldccrossover Dick Grayson | Nightwing #mldccrossover Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir #mldccrossover emilie agreste #mldccrossover marinette dupain cheng | ladybug #MLDC #mldc crossover #goggles ask #goggles answer #goggles answers #mldccrossover Lucius Fox

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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Part 3! Starring Mini Mammon and Mini Asmo!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Underground Tomb special Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 4

MC names:

Lucifer’s kid=L!MC | Mammon’s kid=M!MC | Asmo’s kid=A!MC

Why did bad things happen to good people? Well... Lucifer being a good person is up to interpretation. He hadn’t done anything too heinous recently, his instruments of torture were collecting dust for goodness sake! So why oh why was he staring down two half demon children who looked suspiciously like two of his brothers?

The first kid to step forward was Mammon’s without a doubt, but their general demeanour was very different from their father’s. Perhaps their other parent had done a good job-

“What the fuck was that?!”

Never mind. The kid had Mammon’s pottymouth.

The other child surveyed the scene with a nervousness that their suspected parent never possessed. The kid’s gaze fell on Lucifer, their eyes began to glow ever so slightly. “Uh-um...” the kid cleared their throat. “Someone explain what’s going on!”

Was this child seriously trying to use manipulation powers on Lucifer? He almost laughed at the mere idea of someone trying. The child didn’t even seem to be aware that they were doing it. When their question was met with blank stares, they instantly shrank back and practically hid behind the first half demon. Despite the severe self-esteem difference, this kid was Asmodeus’.

Lucifer’s own child cleared their throat and smiled. “Welcome to the Devildom!”

The Uncle That Looks Like he Has his Shit Together but he Leaves the Reunion Drunk off his Rocker (Lucifer)

Ah shit here we go again-

Okay- okay. Normally he’d scold L!MC for taking Diavolo’s line, but Dia had recovered from his shock and was now gushing over the new exchange students like an excited puppy.

“Okay... L!MC you’re going to need to share your room.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Unless Belphie is willing to give up the attic as a nap spot-”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“You’re sharing your room.”

RAD was buzzing with gossip for the entire first month of the second attempt at the exchange program. The threats of being eaten were once again stamped out very quickly.

(Special thanks to L!MC for being a good bodyguard)

Now, Lucifer didn’t exactly know what to expect when it came to the child of his favourite brother. Mammon was a dumbass, but this kid... this kid...

Was smart.

For the first time in Lucifer’s very long life he felt compelled to place someone in a higher echelon than himself.

Mammon’s child managed to successfully budget that dumpster fire of a house. On the first fucking day. Not only that. This kid managed to skim FIVE THOUSAND GRIMM OFF THE TOP AND THE BUDGET STILL WORKED! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT-

Lucifer and Mammon thanked whatever spirit was watching over them because they truly believed their financial woes were over.

Shame that M!MC also spent their money on dumb stuff they didn’t need. Like father like child.

It’s no secret that Lucifer does have a bit of a soft spot for Asmo, I mean, who doesn’t love Asmo? But A!MC was a blessing sent right from the Celestial Realm.

They were just... too sweet. Way too sweet. Lucifer was actively getting cavities just being near them.

Anyone who bothered A!MC and M!MC during the first month ended up getting... uh... suspended.

(We can assume the threat of suspension would have extended to those who bothered L!MC but all the lesser demons were already terrified of them.)

Normally when Lucifer called someone into his study it was to lecture them for at least four hours and then send them to their rooms, but he was having quite the difficult time actually being upset with M!MC and A!MC.

A!MC looked close to tears and M!MC just stared right back at Lucifer with little to no fear in their eyes.

“Starting a fight during the first week of school is not how I expected the exchange students to behave.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, and prepared to continue the lecture, when he heard a sniffle. There wasn’t enough Demonus in the entire Devildom...

“I-I’m s—sorry...” A!MC sniffled, quickly wiping at their eyes. “Th-they were being r-really scary and we did-didn’t know what else to do...”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“I threw them out of the window.” M!MC huffed. “They were bein’ a dick.”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“That um...” A!MC mumbled. “That’s not all... I may have... told them to stick their head in a toilet first...”

“You made them stick their head in a toilet,” Lucifer turned to M!MC. “And then you threw them out of a window?”

“Yes.” M!MC and A!MC replied. Lucifer downed the rest of his glass of Demonus and debated whether or not it would be a show of weakness to slam his forehead into the desk in front of the children.

Lucifer looked between the two for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “It’s my job to deal with threats to the exchange students, not yours.” Lucifer stood in front of the two, he rested his hands on their heads and gave them a quick pat, before knocking their heads together. “Next time someone bothers you, tell me. If I hear even a whisper of you two getting into another fight, I’m hanging you from the ceiling. Is that clear?”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other, then back at Lucifer and nodded. “Yes sir!”

“Good.” Lucifer removed his hand from their heads. “Now shoo.”

Flying lessons for the two of them went way quicker than it did for L!MC, mainly because L!MC was a way better teacher.

As much as Lucifer loved his newly found niblings, he couldn’t show it too much. Outward softness was reserved for L!MC and L!MC only. M!MC and A!MC were stuck with silent acts of affection.

Every once and a while a little present or two would end up in M!MC or A!MC’s possession. Some ice cream money for M!MC when they blew their part of the budget on fancy sunglasses, a multiplayer video game that the three half-demons could play together, new shoes when A!MC accidentally ruined their’s...

He’s a good uncle. A scary uncle. But a good uncle. ^_^

(Don’t tell him I said that, I’m still in trouble for advertising Mammon’s escape Go Fund Me and I don’t want to have to write the rest of this HC hanging upside down.)

He’s Not Like the Other Dads, he’s a Cool Dad! (Mammon)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Fear)

He’s a dad?! HE’S TO YOUNG TO BE A DAD! Hang on- he’s over five thousand years old...

Oh would you look at that! His kid pulled out a calculator.

...his annual income? Uh... why do you- HEY! WHAT’S WITH THAT FACE?!

M!MC puffed out their cheek as they continued to add the ever growing list of numbers into the calculator. Mammon was trying to get a peak at what they were calculating. M!MC suddenly looked up and practically lit up the room with their smile. Aw, their fangs were growing in!

They had a devilishly charming smile, just like their pop! A real chip off the old block! It almost brought a tear to Mammon’s eye and he actually felt compelled to give this kid all the money he had on him. Maybe even his Rolex too!

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed,” M!MC said sweetly. “My... dad.”

“Yep! That’s uh... that’s me!” Mammon awkwardly ruffled his kid’s hair, the kid laughed good naturedly.

M!MC’s sweet as honey smile flipped from elated to malicious in a manner of nanoseconds. “You owe over thirteen years of child support. Dad.”

Everyone say thank you to Lucifer and Diavolo for getting M!MC to compromise and not try and sue their father.

If you thought Mammon spoiled L!MC you’ve got another thing coming. Mammon’s wallet never stood a chance against his kid.

Poor Goldie, press F to pay respects.

Mammon also tried to teach A!MC and M!MC to drive, M!MC has no regard for their safety, the safety of others, or the laws of the road, buuuuuuuut they manage to get the car back with no dents and no property damage bills are being delivered to the house sooooo...

A!MC can drive fine... it’s just that they adhere to literally every law known to demonkind, which means neither Mammon or Asmo are allowed to open up the sunroof and do that movie thing where they pop their heads out and yell something. ITS NOT SAFE!

Our beloved dummy also tried to teach his kid how to play poker, with... limited success.

“Aw, come on kiddo.” Mammon smirked, flicking his kid on the nose. “Your poker face is awful, I can also see your cards from here.”

M!MC growled and held their cards closer to their face. “My poker face is fine!” It was in fact, not fine.

Mammon scratched his head and thought for a moment. Was he sure that this kid was his? I mean, they weren’t good at poker, had terrible luck in blackjack and roulette, and could barely understand the rules of craps. Craps! While he was lamenting the loss of possible gambling winnings, an idea hit Mammon at a thousand miles an hour.

“Hey kid, you’re damn good at math like your great and amazin’ father, have you ever thought about learnin’ how to count cards?”

Fancy outfits on, hair done (sorta), car ready, the two were off to the casino after quite the intense training montage. It appeared that casinos in the Devildom allowed children inside... Diavolo should really fix that.

“Okay M!MC, you remember what to do, right?”

“Yes. Remember the signal, and if someone catches on, deny deny deny.”

Mammon gave his kid a slap on the back. “Damn straight! You got this, bud.”

As the night dragged on, M!MC and Mammon had made their weight in money, paper money, they had made a SHIT ton is what I’m saying. Tragically, neither the Avatar of Greed or his child had any sense to leave before their luck crashed like the Stock Market in 1929.

They were both Icarus, and they were playing chicken with the sun... and by 3 am they were also playing chicken with security.

“GO GO GO!” Mammon shouted as he and M!MC sprinted towards the car, the night’s winnings in hand.

“I think I lost a shoe!” M!MC gasped as they scrambled into the car, security on their heels.

“I’ll buy you new shoes JUST PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT!”

Re-enacting every Fast and the Furious movie in twenty minutes was how that lovely night of father/child bonding should have ended... until they got home and realized they were locked out.

“The window to my room!” M!MC whispered, pointing up at their window. “It’s usually unlocked, we can climb up to get to it.”

“Good idea!”

M!MC tucked the bag full of their precious money under their arm and began the climb to their window, their father close behind. They had almost made it, they were so close, M!MC could literally touch the window-

The window swung open and the smiling faces of L!MC and A!MC greeted them.

“Oh my, it looks like we have some delinquents breaking curfew~.” L!MC cooed, resting their head on their hand.

“You shouldn’t be gambling this late! A-and your accessories don’t match!” A!MC huffed.

“Oi! L!MC, A!MC! What are ya doin’ up this late! It’s not good for ya!” Mammon whisper-yelled.

“My sleep schedule should be the least of your concerns right now, right A!MC?” L!MC elbowed A!MC, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep! Those who break curfew are hung from the ceiling by their toes.” A!MC shuddered.

M!MC rolled their eyes and stuck out their hand. “Come on L!MC! Let us in! You should listen to your older cousin!”

Upon hearing M!MC pull the older cousin card L!MC smiled deviously, grabbing both of M!MC’s hands. “Of course, dear cousin.” They leaned in. “Long live the king!”

L!MC shoved M!MC downward, Mammon caught them, but lost his own grip and they both lost hold of the money, which fell out of the bag and onto the ground like snow. Paper snow...

Oh well, at least Mammon and M!MC landed in some of the bushes...

“Ya know,” Mammon said as the money fell around them. “I’ve had dreams where this has happened.”

“Wow,” M!MC smiled. “Me too!”

Yep. This was his kid alright.

Not all his father/kid time revolved around money, it also revolved around both of them trying to avoid horror movie night without making it look like they were chickening out.

“Okay, I’ll fake a medical emergency!”

“Kid, no! They’ll never believe that!”

Since A!MC had their father’s eye for fashion and none of the judgemental comments, the kid became Mammon’s unofficial style coach.

“U-um... I hate to say it but those shoes don’t match with the rest of the outfit, the silhouette is confusing...”

“What’re ya talkin’ about? I look fantastic!”

“Are you blind? You look like a thrift store threw up on you.”

“Who invited you, Asmo?!”

“I’m here to support A!MC! You’re doing great by the way, sweetie!”

He may have cried a little when M!MC was able to fly without help... sniffle... they grow up so fast...

Oh- oh fuck they both crashed into the tree-

Oh My God he Actually Showed Up?! (Levi)

That... that couldn’t be real life! A shut-in’s worst nightmare! More people he needed to talk to!

Considering Mammon and Asmo’s track record with taking care of his things, Levi was incredibly hesitant to invite the two to binge anime with him and L!MC.

It seemed that the two normies inherited their fathers’s level of respect for closed doors. What I’m saying is the two crashed anime night.

“I have never seen such bullshit before.”

M!MC’s hands were stuffed in about five pairs of socks each, effectively turning their hands into useless nubs.

“You be quiet! This is to make sure that you don’t take any of my things and try and sell them on Akuzon!” Levi hissed, turning back to make sure his figurines were safe from the mini Mammon. A!MC was standing awkwardly next to L!MC, who was sitting in Levi’s gaming chair reading manga.

“So what are we going to watch..?” A!MC piped up. “I haven’t really watched much anime but I did watch Digimon...”

“I was more of a Beyblade kid.” M!MC hit their sock-stumps together to make a thumping noise.

Levi looked like he was ready to have a stroke. “L-listen! Those are gateway anime! You two need to watch proper anime! Non-dubbed anime!”

A!MC let out a shriek and stared at their reflection in a very shiny looking gundam figurine. “Have I been wearing off colour lip gloss the entire day?! O-oh no... I’m a mess!”

Levi let out a strangled wail and snatched the gundam out of A!MC’s hands. “D-don’t touch that! It’s worth more than a house!”

“It is?!” M!MC perked up and tried to wrestle their way out of their sock-gloves.

“Don’t make me stick you in a straight jacket...” Levi growled. He turned to L!MC with a pleading look on his face. “Please make them stop...”

L!MC grinned deviously and closed their book. “Of course I’ll help you, if we watch season two of The Promised Neverland.”

Levi shrieked and nearly pulled out his hair then and there. “It’s manga divergent! MANGA DIVERGENT! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY ARCS!”

M!MC and A!MC continued to wreak both purposeful and accidental havoc on Levi’s room, he was just about ready to summon Lotan then and there when L!MC shrugged.

“The ball’s in your court, Levi.” L!MC leaned back in the chair and resumed reading their manga.

Levi’s willpower shattered the moment he heard something fall off one of his cabinets. “WE CAN WATCH WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST MAKE THEM STOOOOOP!”

Quick as a flash, L!MC was out of the chair and had both M!MC and A!MC by the ears.

“HEY!” L!MC growled. “STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS OR SO HELP ME GRANDFATHER YOU TWO WON’T LIVE TO SEE GRADUATION!”

M!MC and A!MC became the most well behaved children in the Devildom after that... and L!MC and Levi got to watch their anime in peace.

Okay, Levi wasn’t heartless, he loved his lame normie niblings. They were just very very loud...

Though, M!MC was very good at finding merch for way lower prices... and A!MC actually really liked some of the anime they watched... Maybe they weren’t so bad.

M!MC’s attempts to budget that financial dumpster fire of an otaku was not going well, at least until M!MC convinced Lucifer to dangle concert tickets in front of Levi like a carrot on a stick until he agreed to do his best to stay within the monthly budget.

Levi had learned his lesson from L!MC’s flying lessons and steered clear of them, but luck was not on his side. The ONE time he willingly stepped outside of the house...

Both M!MC and A!MC crashed right into him.

The Uncle With the Cat You Never See and Aren’t Really Allowed to Pet. (Satan)

Oh fuck him sideways the house was going to be so much louder... Say goodbye to his quiet reading time...

On the bright side, the look of pure disbelief and exhaustion on Lucifer’s face gave Satan the biggest rush of serotonin he’d ever had in his life.

To be honest, he got on well with Asmo, and he... well it’s Mammon.

Could have been worse.

Could have been ANOTHER child of Lucifer.

“So... who do you think did it?” M!MC asked as the opening to the fourth episode of the murder documentary they were watching began. “I think it was the sister.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” Satan asked.

M!MC shrugged. “Chick’s shifty.”

“I um... I think they disappeared on their own accord.” A!MC murmured. “I mean, so far it seemed the two’s home lives sucked...”

“Good theory.” Satan nodded to himself. “But both of you are wrong, it was very clearly the mother and the neighbour.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” L!MC asked, imitating Satan’s voice. Detective Toe Beans was sprawled out on their lap.

Satan glowered at L!MC and leaned over to scratch Bean behind the ears. “The step-mother and neighbour are backing up each other’s alibis and they have a motive, access to a possible murder weapon, and a way of disposing of the corpses.”

L!MC rolled their eyes. “That’s a load of crap. It was just the step-mother. The mother had the motive, she and the father were on the outs, she wanted the father’s inheritance all to herself so she got rid of his kids.”

“How many more episodes of this are there?” M!MC asked. “This seems like a really dragged out way of just saying: I don’t know.”

“Sh! They’re explaining possible corpse disposal methods!” Satan hissed.

The four of them traded theories until the documentary series eventually ended with an unsatisfying ‘we dunno’.

“This is such shit...” M!MC muttered. “How have they managed to fill eight episodes with all these leads and evidence and the case is still unsolved?!”

“It’s because everyone involved was incompetent and stupid.” Satan sighed.

“You know,” L!MC smirked. “With all the true crime stuff the four of us watch, we could create the perfect crime.”

“We really could.” M!MC nodded in agreement.

“Using A!MC’s powers no one would suspect us...” Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh...” A!MC shifted uncomfortably. “On an unrelated note... I’m going to go...”

As A!MC scampered out of the room, L!MC turned to Satan and M!MC.

“There’s always the one weak person in the group who’s not down with murder.”

“A sad truth.”

“Hang on I thought we were talking about theft or something-”

Satan and M!MC are surprising study buddies, hell, they even help Mammon study. Or... it’s more accurate to say that they try to help Mammon study.

A!MC is good company, they’re quiet when they read, unlike most people in the house who felt the need to provide commentary on every single event that occurs in the book.

After proving to be quite useless in L!MC’s flight lessons, he just reminded the two new half demons to wear protective padding.

The Hot Single Dad That’s In Every Romcom That Features a Child (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (excitement)

Oh... his... father... HE WAS A DILF NOW-

He practically vaulted out of his seat to coo and fuss over his new found hellspawn, they were just SO CUTE!

Their wings were just like his! So adorable! Oh and those little horns! They were so cute Asmo just might have combusted then and there.

Of course, he couldn’t combust without finding out which of his flings had made such an adorably shy mini-him.

“Ah! I remember that party!” Asmo squee-ed as he looked at a picture of A!MC’s parent. “They looked so hot in that outfit I swear I was completely-”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer grumbled. “That’s a child in front of you.”

“Oh! Right! Mind if I call your ren, A!MC?” Asmo asked, ruffling their kid’s hair. “I want to see if they remember me fondly!”

As Asmo chattered with A!MC’s parent about just how adorable and perfect their kid turned out, Asmo leaned over to A!MC to ask a question.

“A!MC, I know this is sudden but how do you feel about getting a sib-”

“ASMODEUS IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL FEED YOU TO CERBERUS!”

“Tsk. Rude.”

It’s safe to say Asmo adores his kid. I mean, they’re 50% him, how could he not.

He didn’t exactly have experience with the whole... being a big part of his kids’s life thing. Sure he held the unofficial record for most kids but that was because effective birth control hadn’t been invented at the time when he was allowed to run rampant in the human world, not because he was an A+ dad.

None of that mattered! He was going to be a 10/10 dad to A!MC!

They were so shy... so... mouse-like...

“Um... dad?” A!MC awkwardly twiddled there thumbs as they stood in the doorway to their father’s room. The sweet smell of whatever essential oil was being spread with the diffuser did next to nothing to calm the poor half-demon’s nerves.

Asmo popped his head out of his walk-in closet with a sparkling smile. “Yes, child of mine?”

“I um, just wanted to ask...” A!MC was desperately trying to stave off an oncoming stutter-spiral. “H-h-how- *ahem* how do- ugh...”

A!MC steeled their face and straightened their posture.

“How do I be confident like you?!” They blurted that out a little too loud for comfort, but Asmo’s near-immediate joy quashed any embarrassment A!MC was feeling.

“You want to be like little ol’ me?” Asmo gushed, clearly trying to hide just how flattered he was. “Well, of course you do! Your dad’s got your back. So first what we’re going to do-”

The Avatar of Lust had done the stereotypical early 2000s movie makeover many times before, but never with so much enthusiasm. His kid’s style was fine, it wasn’t a lack of pizazz either, it was the lack of confidence in the pizazz.

“Okay, now stand up straight.”

A!MC straightened their back as much as they could.

“Perfect! Chin up, shoulders back, and there you go!”

A!MC didn’t look too different on account that Asmo felt like their fashion sense was perfect, but dear not-old dad coached MC on a new walk, better posture, and Asmo filled their arms with about seven boxes of self-care supplies.

“What’s all this for?” A!MC asked, shifting the weight of the boxes slightly so they could actually see their dad.

“That, A!MC, is all the stuff you need to have confidence.” Asmo explained. “It’s not required of course, but it sure does help.”

“I’m not sure I follow...”

“Oh sweetie, it’s simple really. When you take care of yourself, you feel better, and when you feel better, you look better, and when you look better and feel better, your confidence skyrockets!” Asmo shifted some of the boxes A!MC was carrying around so they could stand up straighter and not be held down by the weight of the self-care arsenal. “Good posture stops your back from hurting, dressing decently helps you feel better about your appearance, as does taking care of your skin, aaaaaand all this will culminate in you being your best!”

A!MC still looked a bit skeptical, but they nodded anyway.

“Remember MC!” Asmo said as he led MC back to their room to help them sort their new stuff. “Confidence in yourself doesn’t happen overnight, so don’t let Mammon try and sell you a fix-all potion because it’s just boiled Gatorade.”

“O-okay- wait did you just say-”

“Yes, boiled Gatorade.” Asmo shuddered. “Let’s not talk about that.”

Dear uncle Asmo? A financial dumpster fire?! It’s more likely than you’d think.

Sure, Asmo’s got a job and makes his own money, but Geez Louise... one demon does not need that much hand cream! Or that many questionable Akuzon packages that everyone is too afraid to touch...

M!MC had their work cut out for them is what I’m trying to say.

Of course... once M!MC realized what a lost cause getting Asmo to stop with the obsessive bath bomb purchases was and a few too many insults were thrown at M!MC’s dear dad... some of Asmo’s things went uh... “missing”

But would you look at that! No one went over-budget!

Even though their dads have a fierce party related rivalry, A!MC and M!MC get along great. It’s very wholesome.

The Uncle That Helps You Pester Whoever is in Charge of the Food at the Family Reunion About Dessert (Beel)

Yay! More kids :)

Do you think any of them know how to cook? No? Okay... :(

Beel adores his new niblings with all his heart and soul, and Belphie’s out of the attic and is able to meet them with everyone else this time! Yay!

I didn’t mention this in the other parts- but Beel totally gave L!MC piggyback rides whenever they asked, but now that two more kids have arrived... it’s now a fight to be tall.

But yea- kids like uncle Beel. Strong contender for favourite uncle.

“Do you think this is right?” A!MC asked as they fiddled with the settings on the stovetop.

“No clue. Do we put the cheese on while the meat is cooking or do we wait until after?” M!MC asked, they flipped through multiple cheeseburger recipes on their DDD, their frustration growing. “Hang on- do we have a deep fryer?”

A!MC rummaged around the cupboards and shelves for a good fifteen minutes and came back empty handed. “No, but I’ve seen videos of people making fries without a deep fryer, I think we just need to heat up vegetable oil and drop the potatoes in.”

After setting up the make-shift deep fryer, the two cousins carefully dropped the first fry into the oil, then screamed like banshees when some oil splashed close to their hands.

“Did you get burned?!” M!MC asked, A!MC shook their head.

“No, you?”

“Nah...” M!MC eyed the oil warily. “We should do this one at a time to be safe...”

It was an awkward process, grab potato, place potato, scream, make sure no one is burned, repeat. As... decent as the process was, with both of them manning the deep fryer, no one was manning the patties that were now completely charred.

“What’s going on in here? It smells like Solomon’s cooking.” Beel poked his head into the kitchen and saw two very upset children and the world’s messiest kitchen.

“We’re failures. That’s all...” M!MC murmured.

“We wanted to make lunch for all of us and we ruined it...” A!MC added.

Beel’s heart was set to explode then and there- but his stomach growled. “You tried your best, don’t feel too bad. Let’s get cheeseburgers somewhere else with Belphie.”

M!MC and A!MC nodded enthusiastically as the three of them left the destroyed kitchen behind them.

After Beel had to sling a sleeping Belphie over his shoulder, the now four of them were halfway out the door before they heard L!MC scream bloody murder.

“YOU IDIOTS COME BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP RIGHT NOW!”

M!MC and A!MC made eye contact, then sprinted out the door. “CHEESEBURGERS FIRST!”

A!MC and M!MC probably go to all of Beel’s games like the little super fans they are. Beel is very grateful for the support! :D

Flying lessons? Nnnnnot again. He’s here for moral support and moral support only. And to catch the two babs when they inevitably fall.

The Uncle Who Was Like... Really Racist the Last Time You Saw Him But He’s Not Anymore (Belphie)

So he uh... he didn’t try and kill these two. That already gave the two newbies a better first impression than what he gave to L!MC.

The Anti Lucifer league ALSO grew, just by one member though. A!MC was very easily persuaded to snitch on whatever prank the group concocted.

The attic nap club gained two new members, but Belphie still had to deal with wings hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’d usually return the favour with a swat from his tail.

“M!MC I swear I will throw you out of the window if you kick me again.” Belphie murmured, mashing his face into his pillow.

“Mmmph.” M!MC threw a pillow in Belphie’s direction.

“Quit whining, Belphie.” L!MC huffed. “You’re doing better than me.”

A!MC had attached themselves to L!MC like a sloth to a tree and would not let go or stop drooling. Ah schadenfreude, the best feeling in the galaxy...

“Stop with that look.” L!MC hissed, Belphie snickered. “I’m telling you to quit it because you’ll wake up Beel, and Beel is solving your M!MC problem.”

Belphie turned to see Beel practically crush M!MC into a bone breaking hug in his sleep.

“Should we do something about that?” L!MC yawned.

Belphie smirked his little douchebag smirk. “Eh, let them stew for a few more minutes.”

“Help me...” M!MC rasped.

Out of the three, A!MC is probably the best nap buddy, they bring in their own pillows and don’t hog the blankets.

Belphie is once again at the forefront for taking videos of the flying lessons, at least till M!MC accidentally broke Belphie’s DDD.

Just a friendly reminder, the sleepy cow man would kill for these kids.

Look at them funny and no one will find your body.

Okay! That’s part 3 done! I had to cut Belphie’s and Satan’s short because of post limit stuff, but the stuff with the side characters is coming soon! Also, Mammon would like me to inform all those who donated to his Go Fund Me that you will NOT be getting your money back, he has a kid to deck out in full Gucci now, he needs the cash!

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 4 years ago

Text

Sleeping together

Series masterlist

Word count: 2497

Genre: Soft angst and fluff

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: A lot of mentions of sex but it is never in a sexual way, brief mentions of past sexual abuse/consent issues (let me know if I need to add any)

Chapter summary: You and Natasha have a bit of a miscommunication but you talk it out and your date night goes much better than planned.

A/n: Okay so this is part five in the flustered series so I finally decided to turn it into a proper series and hopefully by the time this is out I have edited the previous chapters to add proper links and stuff. I forgot who asked for a part five, it might have been an anon, but I hope that person likes it! Because this series isn't planned, I don't have an end goal so if people want more I'll write more but I don't have to if nobody is interested. As with every chapter in this series you don't have to read any of the other chapters for it to make sense, but I do recommend reading them. I hope you enjoy!

“Pass me the plates,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the stack from her hands and carry it over to the sink. She follows and hugs you from behind as you wash, which makes it much more difficult to move but you are definitely not going to complain.

“Hurry up,” she mumbles, resting her head against your back, near where your shoulders meet your neck.

“So demanding,” you tease, “maybe I could be faster if a certain somebody wasn’t restricting my movement.”

“Fine then, you won’t get any hugs,” she says, taking a step back and giving a small laugh when you frown. “I need to set up Netflix first anyways.”

You still frown a little but focus on finishing the dinner cleanup as soon as possible so you can go cuddle with her on the couch. Even after months you still can’t believe that you’re allowed to do things like that. She means absolutely everything to you and although you still haven’t told the rest of the team yet you want to move forward in your relationship a little bit. Which brings you to your current problem; how to ask Natasha to stay the night.

You’re trying not to think about it too much because if you do you know you’ll end up chickening out and you really want to know what it feels like to cuddle as you fall asleep and to wake up next to her. You’ve imagined the smell of her hair in the mornings would be like far more times than you would like to admit. You can’t really help it, there’s something about her that makes you want to always be around her and hug her and protect her from the world. It’s ridiculous you know, she’s a complete badass and you already spend a ton of time together but you want more, as selfish as that sounds.

“The Office or Lucifer?” she asks, scrolling through to get to your continue watching list. “Y/n?”

You curse yourself realizing you heard the question but didn’t actually answer. “Oh um, The Office if that’s alright with you.”

“I wouldn’t have presented that as an option if it wasn’t.” she responds. “Now come here.”

To her obvious displeasure instead of sitting right next to her like always you take the far end of the couch, playing with your hands nervously.

“I was wondering if you would maybe like to stay the night after.” you say, watching her reaction carefully.

“Sleep together?” Her voice and face are blank so you can’t read her reaction at all.

“Yeah.”

Your throat tightens nervously as it seems to take hours to respond when really it’s just a few (way too long) seconds.

“Okay.” She says finally, a little unsure.

“Okay?” You ask in confirmation, relieved.

She nods and says more firmly, “Okay.”

You smile and scoot over on the couch so you’re beside her as normal, wrapping your arm around her shoulders to pull her towards you. She presses play before setting the remote down and relaxing into your body.

---

After a few episodes you’re almost fully stopped paying attention to the show and it seems Natasha is having the same problem. The show is amazing, you love it, but nothing can ever compare to having the girl of your dreams in your arms so ignoring it completely you lean over and give her a kiss.

She responds eagerly and when you move to pull away for air she doesn’t let you, wrapping her hands around the back of your head to make sure you can’t leave. You smile into the kiss and give in to her demands for more, gently pulling back and leaning your head against hers after a couple of minutes.

“Bedroom?” you ask, knowing both of you are done with the show.

She hesitates for a split second, so quickly that you wonder if you made it up. “Bedroom.” she confirms.

She leads the way and you trail behind, stopping as you remember to turn off the tv and lights before joining her. She seems nervous as she sits down on the bed and you sit down on the bed beside her, trying to calm her but it seems to have the opposite effect which is strange because usually your presence comforts her.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

“Nothing.” she lies. You can tell that there’s something she’s not telling you but you don’t want to push her so you back off.

“Okay, just if you need to talk…”

She smiles a bit. “I know, thank you.”

You lose yourself in her smile a little, staring at her face. She’s really pretty, it makes you lose your proper train of thought.

“I love you.” you tell her.

“You mean the world to me.” she says back. She still hasn’t told you she loves you yet but it’s okay because you can read between the lines and know she is just as serious about you, it’s just hard for her to say those words.

Leaning in to kiss her gently you expect to pull away quickly so you can get ready for bed but she deepens the kiss. You have no complaints so you kiss back harder, one hand on the back of her neck the other weaving through her hair. She makes a small noise of happiness and tries to pull you closer with her hands on your hips. Her hands move as you continue to makeout and the tips of her fingers tease the hemline of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feel of them as she slips them just under the edge but she pretends nothing is happening and swallows your gasp, focusing your attention back to her mouth.

For a second you forget about her hands but you gasp again when you feel them move upwards. It’s not bad per say but it’s the first time Natasha has done this so it’s surprising. You had always assumed she wasn’t interested in the sexual parts of a relationship because she complained about how people are only in it for sex and has never expressed interest in it before.

Reluctantly you pull back slightly, breathing hard. “Tasha.”

She frowns and retracts her hands a little. “What? Am I doing it wrong.”

“No, no,” you reassure, “it’s good. But I just wanted to make sure that this is what you want.”

“You mean sex?” she asks and you nod. “We’re in a relationship so of course we will have sex.”

“We don’t have to just because we’re in a relationship.” you tell her.

She frowns again, confused. “But I thought this is what you want.”

“I only want it if you want it.” you say. It worries you how she talks about sex as if it’s something that has to be done just because you’re in a relationship and you might want it. You want to punch whoever made her think it doesn’t matter what her wants are.

“But you said you wanted to earlier.” she says in explanation, looking away. “I’m sorry, I just thought you did.”

“Tasha,” you reach out an arm to touch her so she turns back to you, “first of all, I have no idea what you’re talking about and second of all you did nothing wrong, you don’t have to apologize.”

“You wanted to sleep together tonight.” she tells you. “You said you wanted me to spend the night and I asked if you wanted to sleep together and you said yes.”

Your eyes widen when you realize how your earlier conversation sounded. “I’m so dumb, I meant it in the literal sense of just sleeping.” you tell her, laughing slightly at your mistake.

“Oh.”

“A good oh or a bad oh?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” she says, “Is it because you don’t want me?”

It’s your turn to be unsure. “I never really thought of it much to be honest because I didn’t think that sex is what you wanted.”

“I’m fine with it if you want it.” she says and you look at her sadly.

“No,” you tell her, “you shouldn’t have to be fine with it.”

“I don’t hate it,” she insists, “just because I’d rather not doesn’t mean I won’t sometimes. Our relationship is more important to me than not having sex.”

“And our relationship is more important to me than having sex.” you counter. “All I want is for you to be comfortable.”

“Are you sure?” she asks and there’s a dull pain in your heart because you can’t bear to see her so hesitant. You don’t want to imagine the number of people over the years who hadn’t respected her boundaries or who had demanded things that she went along with even when she didn’t want to.

“I’m very sure Tasha.” you say, looking into her eyes so she knows you’re telling the truth. “We can talk about it more tomorrow but right now I want to sleep with my girlfriend in the literal sense and maybe cuddle if you want that.”

“I like cuddling.” she says and you laugh at the way she says cuddling, like she’s embarrassed to admit it.

“Good because I like it too.” you tell her. “Would you like to go back to your room to get something to wear to bed or are you fine with some of my stuff?”

“Your stuff is fine.” she says so you get up and ruffle through your drawers. For yourself you just grab your usual pyjama pants and a t-shirt and for her you find some sweatpants and a t-shirt from college. Maybe it's a little self indulgent that it’s the one thing you own that has your name on it but sue you if you want her to wear it. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind when you hand it to her so it’s not like it’s a big deal anyways.

You both sort of stand awkwardly looking at each other when you have your pyjamas, unsure of what to do but after a few seconds you turn around to give her privacy and start changing, not knowing if she’s doing the same. When you turn back she’s already changed and you gesture wordlessly to the bathroom that is attached to your bedroom so you can finish getting changed.

Luckily the last time you bought toothbrushes they came in a three pack so you’re able to find an extra one for Natasha and you both brush your teeth in silence before taking turns washing your faces. As you finish you turn off the water but instead of drying your hands you flick them at her playfully so the water lands on her. She scowls with her lips but laughs with her eyes at your antics, making her way out of the bathroom and back to your bed.

“Left or right?” you ask her.

“I don’t care really.”

“Okay then, I’ll take the right.” you say brightly because that is your favourite side.

“I was hoping you would say that, I secretly wanted the left.” she admits, climbing into bed after you.

“It works out perfectly then.” you say, smiling at her. You don’t know if you should make the first move to cuddle or you should wait for her. She did say earlier that she liked that but you don’t want to make it seem like you’re pressuring her.

Luckily for you you don’t have to stress out for too long because she hesitantly moves closer so her side is slightly touching yours so you take that as an invitation to shift and pull her closer so that you’re the big spoon and she’s the little spoon.

“Is this okay?” you ask just to be sure and she nods. It feels nice to hold her and you could get used to this but for now you’re too jittery to fall asleep first. You just want to stay up all night so you don’t lose any time spent cuddling.

She’s cute as she falls asleep. First her breaths deepen a little but then she lets out quiet snores, not enough to bother you but just enough to make you giggle. You didn’t expect the Black Widow to snore but somehow it’s fitting.

---

You feel something shaking you but you feel too sleepy to figure out what it is so you try to roll over only to find yourself trapped by arms.

“Y/n,” you hear Natasha whisper, “are you awake?”

You open your eyes and can faintly see the outline of Natasha’s face in the dark. “I am now, what is it?”

She’s silent for a minute and you take the time to try to focus your eyes more, rubbing at them until you can see properly. She is peering down at you with an expression you can’t place. It looks nervous but happy at the same time.

“Tasha?” you ask, trying to prompt her into speaking.

She takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you Tasha.” you say back immediately, knowing that she needs to hear it so she’ll stop gnawing at her lip nervously.

“I love you so much Y/n.” she says. “I’m sorry for waking you up but I was awake and wanted to tell you and would have chickened out if I didn’t do it now.

“Don’t apologize.” you tell her, reaching up to gently trace the side of her face with your hand. “I’m glad you could tell me because I love you so much.”

“I’m glad I could finally tell you, I’ve been wanting to ever since you first said it to me on our rooftop date.” she admits. “And I want to tell the team about us now if you still want to.”

“I don’t think they would appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night just so we can tell them we’re dating.” you joke. “But I definitely want to tell them still.”

“Cool.”

You both nod awkwardly at each other for a second before bursting out in laughter. You feel light, like the stupidest thing could make you laugh because you’re in such a good mood. Natasha loves you. You! She could have pretty much anyone but she loves you. You know that it isn’t that much of a step in your relationship and that she already chose you but you didn’t expect how giddy you would feel when you heard her say it.

“Oomph.” You let out a noise and Natasha collapses on top of you before rolling off.

“Sorry.” she giggles, not sounding very sorry at all.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say sarcastically, “now we should get some more sleep.”

You open your arms and she moves back into them like how you were when you first fell asleep. You feel overwhelmed by everything Natasha and you fall asleep to her cute snoring sounds and her hair that smells really good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt happier.

---

<<<previous chapter // next chapter>>>

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

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IOTA Reviews: Sole Crusher

Well... It's finally here... the episode introducing the new bee hero. And what do you know? It looks like I was right about how the new character would be portrayed.

It's kind of funny how I made predictions exaggerating what could happen, and they were surprisingly accurate. Isn't that funny?

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Let's just get into the seventh (chronologically the seventh and the seventh episode in the season to air after “Mr. Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Sole Crusher. Damn, I hate that a pun this clever was used for the title.

We get to the point pretty quickly with the first scene being Zoe arriving in Paris and getting a tour of the city. She asks to stop at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, where she meets Marinette through some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. The two quickly strike up a conversation.

I mean, it's not like Zoe is the sister of the absolute worst human being in existence, right?

Marinette compliments Zoe's shoes, and she points out that she designed them herself, and wrote every good thing anyone has ever said to her on them. But because she only has one friend, there's only a standard “I <3 U” on the left shoe.

So Zoe leaves the bakery and heads to Le Grand Paris where she meets her mother, Audrey. Unlike how she talked with Marinette, Zoe pretends to be just as snobby as Audrey in order to fit in. She then meets up with Chloe, who criticizes her for having poor person things like a phone without any diamonds embedded in it. And then she sees Zoe's shoes.

Look, that meme was already dated when it was referenced in Black Panther three years ago. Please don't try to reference memes in 2021, Miraculous Ladybug.

Chloe offers some golden heels while saying that those kind of shoes are for winners to wear and crush the losers underneath. This is the only episode to mention this kind of ideology, and believe me, it gets worse when Chloe decides to teach Zoe how to be like her.

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Get used to this. This episode is all about demolishing any semblance of likability in Chloe's character. Now that Astruc doesn't have to bother with writing Chloe with decency since she's not Queen Bee, watch as he turns her into an absolute caricature of her former self.

Yes, Chloe has ordered her father to give her a lot of frivolous things in the past, but she has been shown to care about him, like immediately rushing to hug him after she was safe in “Origins” and showing concern for when he was akumatized into Malediktator while apologizing for causing it. For the love of God, one of the first things she did when she allied with Hawkmoth at the end of Season 3 was to have him unto her parents' akumatization. I guess she only cared about her rich parents for their status and not because she actually loved them right?

Next up on the list of Chloe's positive qualities to ruin is her friendship with Sabrina.

🎶It's seven o'clock in the morning🎶 🎶I can't believe they made this scene🎶 🎶With the writing Astruc's enforcing🎶 🎶It's like he's trying to piss off me🎶

Yep, Chloe doesn't view Sabrina in a twisted view of friendship anymore. Now she's a slave. I'm not exaggerating by the way, he actually said that in a tweet.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES

Okay, so I guess all those times we saw Chloe playing superheroes with Sabrina in “Antibug” and “Miraculer” were just a slave driver playing with their property. Actually apologizing to Sabrina for getting her akumatized in those episodes? Protecting her from the Scarlet Akumas in “Ladybug”? She was just interested in keeping her slave around. I think Astruc may have slept through the slavery unit in his history class. Yes, Sabrina was mostly used as a joke to show how controlling Chloe could be, but there were still semblances of an actual friendship between the two.

Chloe arrives at school and introduces Zoe as her half-sister, despite being the same age and having the same mother. Because I guess we can add basic biology to the list of things the writers don't understand. Now that we're at school, Chloe's friendship with Adrien is next up on the chopping block.

Yep, despite being Adrien's only friend and making a big deal about valuing his friendship to the point where she threw a big party just to make sure he wouldn't leave her and risked cooperating with an Akuma to save him, now Chloe just sees Adrien as a rich meal ticket. Two of the earliest episodes to show Chloe had a more compassionate side to her, and they just undid them. Even as much as I hated the episode, “Felix” showed Chloe was willing to cooperate with Marinette and her friends just to find a way to cheer Adrien up on the anniversary of his mother's not-death.

For the love of God, Astruc, 1984 was supposed to warn people about what could happen if they rewrote the past, not encourage people to rewrite the past. He probably finished Animal Farm thinking Snowball really did work alongside the humans, didn't he?

Marinette comes up and Zoe pretends to hate her, leading Marinette to wonder why she did that. She texts Zoe (she gave her number to her earlier) and invites her to a concert on the Liberty, but Chloe finds out. Zoe thinks fast and pretends it's just so she can torment her more. Chloe then takes out a book listing all the ways she can torture Marinette. I wonder if this is a metaphor for the writing process behind most of the episodes last season.

Zoe decides to go outside for some fresh air, and Andre comforts her. Funny how Andre bends over backwards to give Chloe whatever she wants, yet he's willing to actually talk to Zoe like an actual parent. Andre tries to cheer Zoe up, but she talks about her past where she had to put on an act so she would be liked, but (bet you've never heard this before) she just wants to be accepted for who she truly is. The surge of emotions is enough for Shadowmoth to akumatize her into Sole Crusher.

In addition to having one of the most clever puns for an Akuma name, I actually like Sole Crusher's design. Not only is it a good excuse to reuse Chloe's character design, it makes sense thematically, as Chloe was trying to mold Zoe into a copy of herself. The gold and diamonds also make sense given Chloe's love for shiny things. Her powers tie into the bizarre belief Chloe has about stepping on the winners. Whenever Sole Crusher kicks or steps on someone, she absorbs them and gets progressively bigger, making it easier to do so. While it's not cracking my top ten anytime soon, it's still an interesting character design.

Sole Crusher heads to the hotel to get Chloe, and she manages to get away pretty quickly. Maybe in an alternate universe, she's a track star? For some reason, she runs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and then... Oh my God... pushes Marinette's parents so they get absorbed by Sole Crusher, before trying to do the same with Marinette.

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When has Chloe ever done something like that? Whenever she endangered someone during an Akuma attack, it was unintentional or a result of her naivety. She was only trapped in Pixelator's dimension because Adrien tried diving to save her, she only alerted Rogercop to Ladybug's presence because she eagerly called out for her, and during “Zombizou” she only tried to throw Sabrina towards the horde of kissing zombies once, and that was meant to highlight her growth. The only person to actually do stuff like this consistently is Lila, but I guess she got vaporized by Big Brother offscreen.

This episode is determined to make the audience hate Chloe by retconning everything about her character while portraying her as a complete monster. As bad as Chloe could get, she was never selfish enough to use anyone as a human shield. This kind of behavior honestly could be explained by saying Chloe was lashing out as a result of losing the Bee Miraculous permanently, but the events of the Season 3 finale aren't mentioned ONCE, not even in the next episode that introduces Queen Bee's replacement! How the hell can you set up the next Bee hero without explaining why the original needs to be replaced in the first place?! And trust me, I'm going to talk about Zoe replacing Chloe later.

Sole Crusher grabs Marinette in her hand, so the Horse Kwami, Kaalki, uses her power to teleport over to Adrien's house and inform him Ladybug needs help, meaning once again Adrien did nothing in this episode before becoming Cat Noir.

At the Liberty, Chloe offers more victims to Sole Crusher in the form of the band Kitty Section (consisting of Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene) and theatens the giant golden supervillain she can send her back to Paris, even though she's really not in a position to bargain right now. And she STILL continues to insult her. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? The writers won't stop until you do.

After we see Sole Crusher's conflicted emotions, Marinette is set free by Cat Noir and transforms into Ladybug, immediately summoning her Lucky Charm, a shoehorn. They only learn Zoe's sneakers were where she were akumatized thanks to Chloe's ranting, so the episode unintentionally made Chloe save the day. Ladybug breaks into Le Grand Paris and breaks the sneakers where Zoe hid them, using the shoehorn to open a door. So Sole Crusher is de-evilized, Ladybug fixes the damage, and gives yet another charm to Zoe.

Afterwards, Zoe goes to the Liberty, apologizes for the act she put on, all while divulging to the audience her “tragic backstory”.

Of course, everyone welcomes her with open arms.

And right here is where the biggest problem I have with Zoe as a character. I normally hesitate to use this term given how often it gets thrown around when criticizing characters these days, but I really can't say anything else.

Zoe... is a Mary Sue.

For those who don't know, the term Mary Sue originated in a Star Trek fanfiction from 1973 satirizing several self-insert stories at the time. Most of these stories showed a beautiful young woman joining the crew of the Enterprise and immediately gaining the attention of the crew. Mary Sue parodied this character archetype by showing how much she was appreciated by Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the latter being driven to tears at her funeral despite his species being emotionless normally.

What does this have to do with Zoe? She has the exact same storyline as Mary Sue in the parody fanfiction. Her mere presence is enough to make Chloe act extremely out of character in an attempt to make her look better, and as soon as she apologizes while giving a frankly vague backstory, everyone just accepts her as their friend, and I mean everyone in the entire class. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel earned. Why was she bullied at her old school? What did her bullies have against her? What caused her to stop going along with her peers, and why did everyone turn against her? How the hell did the bullies who put cockroaches in another student's locker get no punishment while the victim was forced to transfer schools? It's an intentionally unclear backstory designed to make the audience feel sympathetic towards Zoe without actually doing anything else.

I want to ask anyone reading this who watched the episode a question: Outside of her backstory, what do we actually know about Zoe?

What is her personality like? She's nice? Socially awkward? We've never had a character like that in Miraculous Ladybug before! Sorry Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Nathaniel, Mylene, and Marc, there's a new character with more personality than all of you combined!

What are her goals? She wants to be an actress? Great, but why? Even though there's no clear answer for why Marinette loves fashion, or why Alya loves journalism, or why Nino loves DJing, you can still see the passion in their lives when they do something related to their goals. Zoe only says she wants to be an actress, connecting it to her people pleaser backstory (and given how it ended, she must be a terrible actress), and in the next episode, she immediately gets the lead role in a student film.

When Mylene got the starring role in the movie in “Horrificator”, we at least got snippets of her acting skills in the same episode that established her desire to be an actress, which is also implied to be because she was inspired by her father in “The Mime”. She didn't just say she wanted to be an actress and got the leading role. She still had problems to overcome like her cowardice, which threw her own self-confidence into doubt. Here, Zoe just says she wants to be an actress, and is rewarded for no reason the very next episode.

Zoe basically exists only to be a foil to Chloe, and the writers had no idea what to do in terms of a personality, so they just dumped a bunch of extremely likable character traits onto her without thinking of how her character could come off. And like I said, she's a Mary Sue.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've seen a handful of posts on this very site calling Zoe a Mary Sue. In fact, I even asked another Tumblr user @anxresi to quote their take on Zoe being a Mary Sue, which I couldn't even top in terms of accuracy. They basically listed off five things that made Zoe a Mary Sue.

She has to have a ‘tragic backstory’ so all the other characters will fall in love with her. Usually within minutes, in the very first episode they’re introduced.

She has to have a supercute design so that the audience at home will fall in love with her. And if they don’t, they’re automatically dismissed as ‘haterz’ even if their objections are purely from a writing POV.

Her only flaw will be thinking too little of herself. “What, lil ol’ me as the Bee Miraculous holder? With my shyness, colorful shoes, chic beret and personalized pink strip in my hair? Gosh, who’d have thought it?”

The contrast to her half-sister will be a constant plot point, with Chloe always getting dumped on. “You see, kids? Bad things happen to bad people. But you see this super-sweet girl over here? She gets a free DAD. Instant FRIENDS. To star in her own MOVIE. The chance to be a SUPERHERO, even though she only arrived last week. Who cares if she has no depth, no personality and barely any reason for being in the show, apart from being a massive ‘Up Yours’ to all the Chloe fans out there?”

What about character development, Mr Generic Zag Guy? “Development? What’s that?! Zoe is already perfect as she is. The only ‘development’ she’ll receive is having her hair done in the first episode she’s introduced. Besides, That‘d’ word is banned here at Zag studios. Why do you think we abandoned Chloe’s stillborn arc so quickly? This is a KIDS show, why bother trying to create a complex character with more than one dimension?”

This is essentially who Zoe is. She's perfect, has no character flaws, has a cute design so the audience will love her already, and was designed only to replace Chloe as Queen Bee. That's all she is.

So the episode ends with Zoe feeling happy at all the new friends she made while we get one of the most blatant attempts of symbolism in the ending card I've ever seen.

See, look. While Marinette is happily talking with Zoe with the image of Ladybug next to them, Chloe is to the far left with an EVIL purple aura, showing how bad she is compared to how great Zoe is. Only a braindead moron would actually like Chloe over the super awesome and pretty Zoe!

I'll give my final thoughts on the episode in the next part where I analyze this plotline as a whole.

LINK TO “QUEEN BANANA” REVIEW

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b #zoe lee #vesperia #sabrina raincomprix #andre bourgeois

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime.

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me."

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

#spnadventcalendar2020 #destiel #destiel college au #casdean #dean is bi #texting fic #destiel fluff #best friends to lovers #+ roommates :))#deancas au #young dean winchester #young castiel #bluefirecas #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #userpris #oh writing my writing #i had fun writing this :)#college aus almost feel like my roots at this point

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