#did I make this instead of editing my fic? maybe... yes...

[fiepige]

Since we're approaching the holiday season I have a very important question:

If Hobie was to wear a santa hat as Spider-Punk would he wear it like this:

or like this?

Or maybe even like this?

[telesodalite]

Thinking about KrokFire...

Thinking about them sparring in the cargohold, because it's a long trip, and cabin fever is setting in, and Misfire is gonna pop a gasket if he doesn't do something about it soon, since flying in open space gets real boring real fast, and it's making everyone a little nervous, but Krok has time to kill, and maybe, quietly, he's also two steps away from doing something stupid just to feel alive again after cruising around pointlessly, mindlessly, endlessly, for so so long... (It's barely been a month)

And sure, Misfire is a terrible sparring partner. He has no technique, no concept of proper balance, or an inkling of how to use the weight of his own frame. He rushes headfirst like he's more bull than fighter jet, he talks too much, he spits, he bites, and he can't stand losing. But, in a roundabout way, it almost makes him the perfect partner in Krok's eyes.

Crankcase won't spar, "can't" he claims flatly, gesturing at the gaping hole in his helm, but Krok can respect his want for distance. That occasional flash of fear and frozen unease in Crankcase's visor in close combat doesn't go over his head. He knows that look. He gets it. He won't push.

Fulcrum... well, a streetlight might be a tougher fight, or at least it would stay up longer and complain less. So much for a once respectable officer of the empire. What was Deathsaurus' command thinking promoting anyone without any actual combat training? It would almost be pathetic if Fulcrum didn't find a way to put the vitriol of thrown fists into his words instead. Now there was some swears Krok hadn't heard in a couple millennia, it would be inspiring if it wasn't his own spark Fulcrum had been damning to the pits and back through a bloody nose.

Spinister? Now Spinister was a good fighter, a better fighter, Krok wasn't so prideful to deny that truth. He'd tasted the dust of the cargohold floor enough to know it was a definitive fact. But Spinister held back, he was careful, he matched Krok's pace, his movements, he held himself defensively, any attack was quick, simple, and merely restraining. It was less a fight, and more a waiting game until Krok finally gave up, and that... well, that did sting a bit.

But Misfire? Misfire was a different beast all together. Sure Krok could dance circles around the flier all day, but it wasn't totally effortless work, he had to stay sharp, Misfire was so predictably unpredictable, he kept him thinking, moving, on his toes, and maybe it felt good to sidestep another stupid headfirst charge, easily grabbing and swinging Misfire around by his arm, so unbalanced all Krok had to do was let him go, and the weight of his own frame would send him careening into the crates stacked around them.

Most days, Misfire would give up by then, pull himself off the pile of overturned cargo with no small amount of burning shame and frustration, as he avoided Krok's optics and stormed off into the bowels of the ship before Krok could say something to ease the sting of losing again and again. Misfire didn't want his apologies though, and even as a pang of guilt ate at him over it, Krok knew he'd be back eventually.

But today, too pent-up and bored to quit now, Misfire pushed himself back onto his feet and charged back in again, and again, and again.

And Krok moved with him again, and again, and again. It was almost repetitive, but lively enough that he could feel the energon pumping through his head, a thrumming beat in his audials that reminds him of deafening battlefields and roaring stadiums, and oh, he'd missed this feeling, the adrenaline, the movement, more so than he thought he did.

Maybe it's the overconfidence that gets him then, or the memories pulling him out of the present, but Misfire's fist suddenly comes slamming down into his mask, and for a moment everything becomes a blur, until he finds himself on the floor, clutching at the shattered metal falling from his face in disbelief.

Faintly he can feel the twinge of broken mesh, of pain pinching dully across scarred flickering sensors, and maybe it's the adrenaline that pulls a suprised and breathy laugh out of him as he stares down at the pieces in his hand.

Maybe it's also the disbelief, the sudden shock at being struck hard enough to break his mask, by Misfire of all mechs. Or maybe he's cracked his helm, finally snapping something important deep in his processor, some vital function that kept him sane all these years.

Either way, an old familiar buzz of heady energy fills his chest, loosening his joints and straightening his struts as he stands back up, brushing off the broken remains of his mask as he stares back at Misfire, barefaced and bleeding and amused as the flier's optics go bright and wide.

And all Misfire can do for a moment is stand there, wide-eyed and breathless, his own adrenaline filled frame and hammering processor still trying to make sense of the broken plating of his knuckles and the energon trickling down Krok's scarred lips.

But connections are made, and it's a panicked realization at first, a cold dread, a 'ohhhhh fuck oh primus I fucked up I'm dead I'm so fucking dead-!' sort of feeling, as Krok's marred face breaks into an energon stained grin. But then there's another feeling, growing somewhere underneath the panic, a sudden curl of heat in his chest, a flush of pride, conviction, a sort of frenzied joy at the sight of broken mesh and fresh energon, and another rush of hot anticipation as Krok began to move again, circling, waiting, an unspoken question in the air as he rolls his shoulders back and flexes his hands.

And Misfire answers eagerly, suprising himself almost as he charges foward again, wanting more of that feeling, wanting to win again.

It's not really sparring past this point, and somewhere in the back of their minds they both know that. Every strike, every kick, every punch, it's all thoughtless instinct, each clash of plating, and bite of denta, and scrape of fingertips, is part of a mad dash for victory in the gladiator pit of scrap and debris they've built around themselves.

Of course, it can't last forever. They're no real gladiators, no phase-sixers, no primes, and movements get sluggish, vents rattle and wheeze as coolant pumps reach their limits, and building condensation slides powerless punches right off of scuffed metal and mesh.

Even like this though, worn out and bleeding from more scrapes than he had half a mind to count, Krok is still better, and Misfire is still predictable, and it's no great feat to sweep his legs out from beneath him, landing him flat on the floor, wings spread out and chestplate heaving.

Overworked joints sharply protest as he goes to pin the flier down bodily, and finally Krok faces the fact he has to consider how to end this, so he might let his own beaten frame finally still for a moment to breathe.

But as Krok catches one flailing arm in his grip, scoffing at the desperation, still goading Misfire on even as he tries to end this, a hand stubbornly catches his throat, but stops before it can truly squeeze.

And once more they're not really moving, just staring, watching, but it's less wired and tense now, rather, its shaky, a little unfocused, as exhaustion filters out in heaving puffs of hot air between their frames.

Someone's plating is rattling, Krok isn't sure if it's his own or Misfire's, but the cost of adrenaline is painfully noticeable now. His grip loosens on Misfire's arms, and the idea of total victory is less sweet as his cables begin to ache throughout his inner-framework.

But Misfire's hand slides up to catch his jaw before he can lean back and relent to a truce, and he's pulling him closer, and Krok starts to push him off, call it quits before either of them breaks something past repair, but a flash of energon on Misfire lips catches his eye, and that hadn't been there a moment ago?

Before he can even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Misfire is pulling him down again, angling his helm upwards to feverishly meet his lips half-way.

Although the mesh of Misfire's face was throughly bruised and scuffed, Krok had frustratingly failed to return the favor of a busted lip. So, it had to be his own, smeared across Misfire's face at some point in the scuffle, it shouldn't have been interesting in the slightest, but Krok's processor was hazy, slow, and his optics trailed Misfire's glossa as he licked his lips and made an odd curious sound.

And maybe it was a stupid move to make so impulsively, one he'd regret making probably, but still too caught up in the waning heated high of the fight, Misfire figured he could worry about losing such a hard-earned battle later. Right now, this seemed far better than actually winning, and the taste of Krok's energon felt like a victory and reward nonetheless.

Bracing himself as Misfire wriggled his other hand free to splay out over his thigh, holding him desperately against his frame as he tried pulling him even closer, Krok considered the heat dispersion warnings flickering distractingly in his peripheral, and the very noticeable strain on his back and legs, even his arms.

It's not a great position to be in right now, after all they've done already. He'll regret it, he knows he will, his body will make sure of it, if Spinister doesn't first.

But then Misfire's glossa is sliding against the jagged edges of his teeth, and he's making hoarse little pathetic noises into Krok's mouth that stoke some sort of ego at having the flier so desperate beneath him, and Misfire's hands are warm and heavy over aching plating and seams, and really, on second thought, after weeks of boredom, why the hell not?

They've got nowhere to be.

[joshujin]

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.

[povbarnes]

Sergeant.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You call Bucky something he doesn’t expect.

Word Count: 815

Warnings: Smut, No plot, like literally not even a drop of plot, Hair pulling (blink and you’ll miss it), Bucky Barnes (because he is a warning), Improper use of the word “Sergeant”, No use of Y/N. i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: this is my first fic, so please be kind :) normally i don’t think i will write pure smut without any kind of plot at all, but this came to me in a dream so… yeah. hope you enjoy! <3

EDIT: i had to repost this because i switched accounts since there was a possibility i could lose the other one. thank you so much for the love on the original post and i will be posting another fic today or tomorrow!🥰

It happens three months into your relationship. You don’t know where it comes from, or maybe you do, but you are not sure if you’ll admit that to yourself just yet. It happens when you are just so overwhelmed, the drag of him in and out of you making your eyes roll, stretching you open in the most delicious way possible.

His eyes are on yours, both arms barricading you, flesh hand curled around to prevent you from hitting your head against the bed frame. He is on you, his body weight making you feel oh so safe and you feel like crying.

It’s all so much already.

So, when he gives a particularly hard thrust that knocks the air out of your lungs and says your name in a voice that makes you clench around him, you don’t know what comes over you.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, doll?” He says, his voice raspy, the hand holding your head caressing your hair.

You nod, not able to find your voice at first, but he doesn’t want that. He wants to hear you. Always does.

“Words, baby.”

You take a sharp breath, your brain all fuzzy, trying to hold his gaze when it just slips out, “Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky freezes, and so do you.

For a moment, the only sound is the heavy breathing of both of you, filling your ringing ears. He is twitching inside you, but otherwise not moving, his piercing eyes on you without blinking.

“Bucky,” you start, panicking. “I-“

“What did you say?” he interrupts you, brows drawn together. And while you’ve gotten rather good at reading him for the years you’ve known him and the months you’ve been dating, you can’t tell what he is feeling.

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m so sorry. I’m s- Ah.” He interrupts your rambling with a slam of his hips to yours, his vibranium hand traveling to your waist to circle it so tightly for a second that you gasp before he very slightly eases his hold.

“Fuck, doll,” he breathes, and if he didn’t before, he sounds utterly wrecked now. “Don’t know why that-“ He shakes his head, a chuckle escapes his lips, cutting himself off.

You are stunned to silence, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to understand what he means, watching him lose himself in you with wide eyes.

He huffs. “Saying sorry as if I would- Fuck.” He is completely gone, his whole body shaking, his flesh hand caressing, holding and pulling your hair at the same time like he doesn’t know which one he wants to do more.

His head falls to your shoulder, his breathing frantic. Your hands move up from his back, burying your fingers in the now short hair to scratch his scalp just as he likes. He is still shaking, but his movements have slowed compared to a moment ago.

You find yourself at the edge of the cliff you began to know too well since being with him, taking in a shuddering breath and whispering in his ear, “Bucky, I’m so close.”

He nods. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, not changing his pace, but turning his head to bury his nose in your neck instead. Taking deep breaths, the arm circling your waist moving between your bodies to gently circle your clit with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you need to fall off of that edge.

You moan, and it makes him clench his teeth, his bicep twitching next to your head.

“Baby,” he breathes when he feels you clenching on him impossibly hard. His voice is shaking now too. “Say it again.”

You are not sure what he means at first, so lost in your own pleasure that the words don’t register until he says your name, raising from your neck to look into your eyes. “Say it again,” he repeats. “Fuck.”

You come with a silent cry before you can formulate your thoughts to do as he asked, and Bucky watches every second of it without blinking. He fucks you through it, lets you ride it out longer than you thought was possible.

When the shocks start to subdue and your vision returns, he is a mess. His eyes struggling to stay open, chest heaving, brows drawn together.

You take his face in your hands, make sure he is looking into your eyes for a second before whispering, “Come for me, Sergeant.”

That does it. He basically growls your name, accompanied by a dozen of curses, hugging you so tight before spilling inside you with a final thrust.

It’s completely silent other than both of your heavy breathing for a minute or two.

You are still slightly trembling when he lifts his head to look you in the eyes, an almost confused look in them.

It makes you giggle. “I am so calling you that from now on.”

i will be posting more stuff if you guys like it! :)

also, this had more than 500 notes before i had to repost it so it would mean a lot to me if you guys could reblog this so it could reach people again😭🫶

dividers from @cafekitsune <3

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 2 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji, Pham Hanni (ft. Jisoo, Seungyeon, Seolhyun)

Length: 8018 words

Tags: You know what? How about no tags. Yes, really. This is very similar to the rest of the On her series, especially cuz it's a Part 2. Go have fun, I know you will have it ;)

TW: rushed editing, a terrible friend, nothing but sex matters

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being a fantastic co-writer!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part3-

(A/N: This fic has it all: from three cameos to rapid fire scene changes to betrayal to an all-time threesome combo. Have fun with these grown-ass women!)

"What the fuck, Unnie?" 

"What?" Kazuha says, not even bothering to turn her attention to the young girl. 

"He… I—" 

The ballerina then turns around to see tears forming in Minji's eyes. This is how so many of them must have looked when the realization came crashing over them like a merciless tsunami. Did I really just do this? Is it worth it? Will he ever have enough?

"As he should." Kazuha's expression turns cold, uncaring.  "I did exactly what you asked me to. I sent you to him. It looks like you weren't good enough for him. That's on you. If you can't stick it out, maybe you aren't cut out for all of this." 

"What—do you really feel that way? Is that why you do it?" Minji sobs.

"At the start sure, but now I know: he is my whole world, all that I could need or want. 

“I love him," Kazuha says with unflinching conviction.

"Really?" Minji shouts and Kazuha quickly shuts her up with a palm on her sore lips.

"Yes, really, and if you screw this up, I swear, I'll make your life a living hell." Kazuha looks around the long corridors of the Hybe building. She then removes her hand from Minji's lips and unexpectedly dives straight to the younger’s ear. "You can be a good girl for him, call him Master or Daddy and get your brains fucked out—but don't ever get in between us. When the time is right, I'll be the only one for him.

"Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, Zuha-unnie."

"Good. Now, what did he say you need to do?"

#

A seemingly never ending, vicious cycle starts for Minji. She works her butt off, dances the entire day, goes through hours of meetings, recordings—and instead of going to bed every day, she takes every conceivable measure to go straight to your office. 

She walks in, lays on the table and waits for you to finish a call. At first, it's a mystery who you are talking to, but she finds out that it's all kinds of producers, managers, executives and most importantly—idols.

"So how is everything going?" Jisoo dreamily asks from the other end of the line.

"Well, I almost fucked up,” you respond in all honesty and drop your pants. “I almost slipped and told one of the new prospects they reminded me of you." 

Jisoo's face softens and smiles. It’s like you can hear every movement of her facial bones. "Oh? Care to tell me who? Is she prettier than I was back then?" 

"Impossible," You say sincerely. 

"You're sweet, but don't think you're off the hook for that little quick tryst you had with Jennie. Rosie's sad about it. You need to make it up to her. And you need to make it up to me too." Jisoo says the last part a bit forcefully and you imagine scrunches on her face to show you her seriousness.

"I know,” you sigh and rub a finger along Minji’s throat and cheeks without thinking about her or the incredible sensation of her skin. “I will, I will. I miss you." 

"I know you do. You tell me every time we talk. I miss you too, Daddy.” That’s always how Jisoo finishes a long distance conversation. She wishes you were there, with a hand in her panties. She wants to moan your name into your ear, your actual name, and not scream it out when rubbing one out under some hotel bed sheets. But Jisoo will have to wait.

The moment you finish the call, you start to pull out your hard cock and press it into Minji’s wide open mouth. She makes sure to keep her lips moisturized at all times, but she can never be ready for the strong impact of your hips hitting her head and rocking her back and forth on the desk.

With every single one of those meetings, Minji's clothes become more revealing, to the point she gasps whenever she sees herself in a public mirror. People on the train start to watch her round ass bounce in short shorts, then in very short shorts, then in a miniskirt.

Minji wonders how she is able to push through this. Her sleep gets shorter, the training rougher, the meetings more intense—worst of all, you become more violent too. It all reaches a peak when Minji is unable to shower because otherwise she would be too late. 

In her dirty, sweaty state, she sprints to your office and bursts through the door, just to be greeted by the sight of you roughly fucking—destroying—the huge ass of a familiar idol.

"You are fuck-ing late!" you growl and slam the bendover idol against the desk a final time. Minji hurries around the wooden monstrosity to get into her, by now well-known position. It is then that she realizes who you are fucking: Seungyeon, the former dancer of CLC.

"What are you?" you shout at Seungyeon and smack her ass hard.

"Your stupid, bubble-butt bitch, Master," she wails in a weird mix of pain and euphoria. She gets a tap on said bubble-butt with your cock.

"How do you want it, bitch?"

"Harder, Master."

"What are you going to get?"

"What Master wants."

"Exactly."

Minji lets her head hang off the edge, only a few inches away from where you annihilate Seungyeon's dignity and her asshole with your inches. Both you and the idol grunt like animals in heat, but for her it sounds blissful, for you more like work.

And so Minji lays there, drenched in sweat, and the weirdness of being forced to watch other people fuck never really fading. It's stranger the more she has seen or admired an idol. No matter who, everyone she saw has folded to you, and Seungyeon might be the most submissive. How she degrades herself and begs for you to ruin and spit on her—

"Good bitch, keep your ass gaping!"

Suddenly, the cock is on Minji's face and she looks past it in shock. Your expression, though a bit exhausted, remains stern.

"Open fucking wide, Minji," you command and Minji gulps. This cock has just been in Seungyeon's ass, maybe for hours, and though it looks spotless, she can't bring herself to—

Minji gasps and that is enough. You push against her lips, into her mouth and start to use it to 'clean' yourself—really, it is just training for Minji to trust you and accept your commands.

Though her first reaction was a gag of disgust, Minji has to admit to herself quickly that Seungyeon's ass on your cock tastes great. It's an embarrassing secret which she will never tell anyone.

You switch between the holes a couple more times before creaming Seungyeon. While Minji has her final cleaning session, you order the older idol to clean Minji's feet and calves off sweat.

No hesitation, Minji realizes, as Seungyeon does not leave out an inch of her skin.

Seungyeon isn't the only one showing complete devotion to you and your every order. You've had a few other idols over before or after Minji's throat-stretching. The young soon-to-be idol knew them, but they weren't the stars yet she saw in your profile list. The thought that you might have been bluffing with controlling the likes of Blackpink, aespa or Red Velvet crossed her mind, but they faded whenever she thought of Kazuha's success.

She wants that too, no, Minji wants to pass Kazuha and so she comes back to you, no matter how hard the companies’ training is fucking her. Then finally comes the day—actually, the day before the day. 

The not-yet NewJeans member lays on your table. She returned from the final pre-debut meeting and was ready for you to quickly walk in and fuck her face, but you never came. For endless hours, the entire fucking night, Minji had to lay there and wait. She could've left at any time, but the gravity of this situation, this presumed test, pulled her down to the flat, wooden surface. 

No matter how uncomfortable it got, she did not stand up. You could be around the corner at any second. The thought of her giving up right as you walk in gave Minji a weird mixture of fear and arousal, further amplified when she had to keep herself from falling asleep. A hand in her soaked panties, Minji played the fantasy out in her head:

You would walk in and find her asleep. Angry by her inability to follow orders and service her Master, you decide to punish her. When you find her panties wet, the desk covered in girl juice, you wouldn't hesitate to plunge into Minji's tight, virgin cunt and fuck her awake. It would hurt, but Minji wouldn't stop cumming!

She can't stop cumming, her fingers rub her clit to completion and now real juice runs down your desk. Minji is wide awake, but an hour later, she does it again, again, again, until you finally enter the room. Casually, as if Minji isn't completely spent and almost fully naked on your work desk.

The sparkle in her eyes is priceless. Out of all the crazy shit you pulled on this formerly innocent virgin, this was the task that broke her. You don't know the exact moment, but you will never forget this moment where you see her orbs and know that she is past her prostitute stage.

"This is actually impressive," you say with a coy smile while gently caressing Minji's forehead. "I see you... had fun last night?"

"Sorry, Master," Minji carefully apologizes and kisses your hand. "I made a mess."

"Don't worry, I'll call someone to clean it later. Now, get on your knees and show me what you have learned."

She is dizzy, barely able to stand, but luckily, Minji's place is at your feet, hands wrapped around your length. Her strokes are soft, careful, and she does not wait to use her tongue on you. After a minute, she sees the impatience in your look and uses her mouth. Quickly it’s wrapped around your tip and for the first time ever, Minji fucks her face on your cock.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. There is some actual joy in that, especially when you can lazily put Minji's hair in a makeshift ponytail and watch her go down on your crotch in surprisingly quick succession. "This is good, this is fucking—great!

"Hold still."

Your heart pumps like crazy, but it's nothing compared to your hips which start to obliterate Minji's throat. Your cock bulges her visibly and she starts to shake. Usually, she'd have her teeth at spots where they don't belong, but at long last, she has learned. 

She takes it well, like a slut should. Not yet one of your perfect sluts however. It's all a bit rushed; her debut, the training, the stretching. Considering this, she is definitely good and her gags sound delicious. 

You pull out of her mouth. Minji triest to catch her breath, instead catches three of your fingers which you also use to fuck her mouth while locking eyes. The salty tears that stream from hers look so delicious and you love how, no matter how many chokes you force out of her, there is no fight or flight response. She takes it.

"Become sloppy, slut, get your drool out. I want to see you become a mess for your Master!"

Minji twitches. She is dazed, your fingers become glazed; then an avalanche spurts forth, of more tears and drool that starts to cover her chin and stain your floor. You want more, so you replace your fingers with your cock and fuck her throat again, never slowly, only hard and fast. At this point, the poor girl beneath you is dehydrated and the pool on her thighs and the tiles excessive. You stop.

"Fuck, this is what I mean. This is how you suck cock, Minji."

"G-glad you l-like it—Master."

"Go clean up your mess."

"Yes, Master."

When Minji goes down to lick and suck her saliva from the floor, you rest your shiny, polished shoe on her cheek and bask in the faint sun, dawning right before your office window.

"You will go home and sleep," you order firmly. "The only contact we will have is when you send me a video of you masturbating in your debut panties. Send me those panties in the mail, and you'll soon lift your first music show trophy."

Lean down after Minji has collected all the slick and press an unmistakable love bite right under her right breast. Minji mewls as you do so.

"The-they'll probably try to hide the mark, Master."

"Good." Pat her head. "No one can know what happened here."

"Of course, Master."

"You've been a good girl, Minji. Now go out there and become a bigger star than you could've ever dreamed of."

"Thank you, Master."

#

Months go by where Minji is mostly a concept for you, some asset to be discussed in meeting with your connections in HYBE. Rarely did she send a direct message to you—except for the video you asked for. It's nice that she didn't totally forget about you. After a busy day that calls for vacation and a nice, warm pussy on your cock, you turn on the TV to watch the most important year-end award show. 

A quick scroll down your contact list, you pick someone you know is nearby, obedient and definitely warm. The calls with Seolhyun are never longer than ten seconds, because she knows she's got to be there for her Daddy.

"You ever miss this?" you ask her when she sits down on your cock, panties still around her ankles, jacket still hanging from her shoulders.

"The awards? Sometimes, but—oh fuck!” Seolhyun is interrupted by you thrusting upwards while you care more for the TV than her. “Yes, more Daddy. They are nothing compared to your cock, your touch, your love!" 

Seolhyun tightens when she moans these words and you give her more of your touch, your thrusts, your cock. Soon she is bouncing in rhythm with it and begs for you to rub her clit. You won’t do so yet, would be boring if she’d get all the things that make her cum so easily.

"What do you think of her, Seolhyun?” You nod towards the screen as it captures Minji in all her beauty and on stage charisma. “Think she can capture the nation's heart like you once did?" 

"Minji, right? I think so."

That is the first time Minji has been in your sight since when her face was pressed to the floor. She looks like a proper star, close to being a super star (their next song will guarantee it) and her attitude reflects that. Don't touch me, I'm better than you, get out of my way, who even are you? - you imagine how she feels towards these other, lesser known people around her. 

Minji's dream came true and you were the pixy dust. Now you deem it the right time to get a hold of her. In between comebacks, right after all the award shows, she will have no excuses. Time to pay up, you text her, with a location, time and date while your finger disappears in Seolhyun’s asshole.

#

The day comes and you've checked into your favorite spa-hotel with excitement. The security and privacy here are top notch, or at least they are for you. See, it’s all about connections and here you have the best connections and can make sure that no rumors spread and that all information comes to you in no time. Minji will be here shortly and you've already painted the pictures of her naked body in your head, scenes where she undresses, spreads her legs and folds, begs for you to part her—

You hear the door open. From your seated position on the bed, you look expectantly at the entrance to the bedroom which Minji finds shortly after, her fluffy, thick jacket already falling from her shoulders.

"Hello, Master," she sultrily says with a smile. You reciprocate it.

"I see you've been doing great," you skip the greeting and walk over to her. A gentle push and the jacket fully falls off. Minji's outfit underneath is surprisingly thin for this season; there could be snowfall outside any day now and she runs around in a white crop and skinny denim.

"Those jeans look good on you." Stare down at her eyes while you check the quality of those mentioned jeans by fondling her butt, then her thighs and lastly her crotch. "Very expensive, HYBE is already paying you?"

"It's all the ads we do," Minji quickly responds, her breath halted while she does the unthinkable and moves your hand away from her crotch. "I... I never thought it would work so quickly."

"Yeah, it feels surreal, almost too quickly," you say with careful annoyance, unsure how to judge Minji's hand on your wrist holding you back from getting to feel more of her body.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Master, thank you very much~"

"You see, Minji..."

Her shoulders in your firm grasp, you move Minji to the next wall and position her in such a way that she is trapped and your knee is able to gradually push up against her covered pussy. The young girl tries to resist, she is suddenly flustered, oh how this should remind her of her success.

"... no one was ever this successful without a big commitment. Your commitments until now were nothing."

"Tha-that's why I'm here. Master, I'll suck your cock as much as you want, I'll let you deepthroat me hard, even for the entire night!"

You scoff and give Minji's cheek a quick, small slap. Your knee has now become the only pillar that keeps her upright. She has to balance and rub her slightly moistened folds on them so as to not to fall over.

"Sucking? Deep throating? Oh you're still so naive. No. You, Minji… belong to me. All of you, which means any hole. You are mine to use however I want."

"Wha—no!" She puts a hand on her cheek and looks at you with puppy eyes that beg so pathetically, like the thought that you took this deal seriously is a shocking reveal. You roll your eyes at her and find the top button of her jeans, but Minji starts to fight back with a loud, whiny voice.

"No, Master, you don't understand! Un-unlike all those other idols, I'm... I'm still a virgin. I don't want to lose it now, not here, not—"

"That is not up to you!"

Your shout halts time and space, only Minji's facial expression matters. She looks honest, absolutely in dread that it might happen at not the moment she wants it to. She cannot fathom giving you or anyone that control, she wants it special and precious and all those nonsense illusions. It's gut wrenchingly annoying but you will not go too far to break her now; you're too fond of her for that. 

Call it your weakness and curse you for that.

"We had a deal."

"I-I know."

"And you don't want to fulfill it?"

"I'm sorry, Ma-Master, please don't—"

"Then offer me something equally valuable." Minji looks at you in confusion. You drop her from the wall and hand her your phone. "Put in the number of someone whose virginity I can take. They have to be your sacrifice, your warrantor, and they have to agree to the same contract.

"You will then come with her to me and will watch how I take her virginity. You will watch every fucking pump I put into her pussy. She will testify, she will call me Master and she will love it. That's your only way, you better bring me someone."

Minji clutches the cell phone, her life-line, her lever to the trolley problem, except the train that was about to hit her can only be directed at another girl.

"And Minji,” you add in controlled yet uncontrollable rage. “I want her here, now. I want someone worthy of my time and touch. Or else. You will call them and then you will be on your knees sucking my cock while we wait."

Sweat comes pouring down Minji's forehead. You can hear the inner workings of her brain scramble, trying to find someone she can push in between you and her. There is no submission to you and there is no urge to flee and break your deal. 

Minji genuinely tries to sell you someone. Despicable, everything for success.

"D-do you know Hanni?" she suddenly stutters, quietly, ashamed but her fingers are already dialing up her friends number.

"I have never met her." You laugh in disbelief and turn your back to Minji. "You're really going to sell your bandmate? Are you not friends?"

"I—she's the only one I know who is a virgin but not... not... not unwilling."

You cock your eyebrow and listen to Minji's call which is surprisingly short. No mention of you or your arrangement, just the location and some details. Definitely no one is allowed to know of this and yes, Hanni has to be swift.

Minji ends the call and you immediately throw her to the ground, her head on the cushions of the nearby bed, your belt already loose, a hand on your pants.

"Pull them down and open your fucking mouth." Minji does so, the shock in her eyes is wonderful when you push past her lips and against the back of her throat in one go. Violent choking. "You are terrible, the worst friend, but at least you know how to make that mouth-pussy of yours work. Go on! Fucking use your tongue."

Minji starts to gag, trying to adjust to your cock, not realizing you weren't even fully hard yet. You never were with her. 

"Good, all the way. Use your tongue and saliva, let me fucking feel it."

You kick off your trousers and put more force in your hips so that your long shaft may fill Minji's deepest depths. It pushes out a lot of saliva, a waterfall that tumbles down her chin and covers her top. From your point of view you may not see it, but you know that Minji's aroused nipples poke through her bra and show that no matter how hard you fuck her face or belittle her, she's yours.

Minji's mind shall only be occupied with satisfying you, so even her still lacking tongue and lips do their best to suck you from tip to base—you make sure she never slacks by pistoning in and out of her.

After about 30 minutes of slowly thrusting in and out of here and replying to texts on your phone, you receive a message from the hotel staff that someone has arrived and come to see you. Minji tries to tap on your leg, indicating she wished to be freed of this position. You shake your head, no. 

"Oh, you don't want your bandmate to see you like this? That's not an option."

The sound of a door opening echoes through the hotel room and Minji panics, flailing wildly, her eyes tearing up and begging, begging so well—maybe she can finally grasp what she has gotten her friend into—

"Hello? Minji, are you here? Is everything okay?"

—but she still has so much to learn. Smack her cheek a final time, loud enough for Hanni to gasp at the front door. Before she can enter the bedroom, you pull out of Minji's mouth and push her towards the door. 

"Minji?" Hanni asks again and rushes towards her. Minji stops her, both of them shriek in shock. "Oh my Gosh, Minji, it is you! You scared me!"

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"You look... messy. Is everything alright? I'm sorry if I took too long, you sounded so sad and terrified."

"Hanni, I," Minji stutters, hesitates, maybe even contemplates. It all makes her seem as if she has a heart and does not want to use Hanni to keep her virginity, but deep down everyone has to know that she is not a good person. No one would sell their friend for something like this. Minji is cold hearted when it comes to her career and things she believes she rightfully owns. "I have to ask something crazy of you."

"Okay? Look, you need to calm down first, maybe clean your face up and then we can talk ab—"

"Hanni, please." You hear some uncertain steps, as if someone is almost falling over and is ultimately pressed to a wall. You hear a wet sound, then a moan. Your cock is going crazy at all the possible things that might happen right around the corner and later in this bed. "Do you trust me?"

"Why did you kiss me, Minji?"

"Do you trust your leader?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a bit scared though, what have you gotten into?" Hanni's voice is full of concern and so is her face which you see for the first time when Minji guides her into the bedroom, arms around Hanni's tiny waist.

Hanni is in complete shock. 

"Minji, what is this? Who is this man?" You still have your pants down and cock out. 

Unfazed, you smile at the girl. "Minji, tell your friend what you did."

"Have you never wondered," Minji starts right away and tightens her hold on the younger band member. "Why so much changed before our debut, why the success was imminent, why it didn't stop? Have you never questioned all the blessings we received?"

"I-I... what was I supposed to think?" Hanni weakly laughs and tries to avoid the sight of your erection, but she can't because Minji is slowly inching her closer to it. "We are in a gr-great company, smart managers, pro-ducers... so who are you?"

"He is the reason, he is why we did not fail. Look, Hanni, I had to do it, okay?"

"Do what? Sell your body?" Hanni looks over her shoulder at the glassy-eyed leader of her group who gives her the tiniest nod. In those large, round orbs of the young Vietnamese woman you see the realization kick in bit by bit. At first she does not want to accept it, then she cannot believe it—but at last, she has to put it into words.

"You sold your body... and now he wants more."

"He wants something only you can give him," Minji whispers and pecks Hanni's cheek. You are astonished at how she manipulates her dongsaeng, Minji truly is ruthless; but Hanni's calmness deserves an award. She seems to surrender to this idea easily. There is no flight, there is barely any fight—she accepts her situation. 

"Will you give it to him? Your virginity?"

"Minji, I—"

"That's not the entire truth is it, Minji?" You smirk coldly. "You are a pretty thing, Hanni. She's right, I do want more. It's not something only you can give me, rather, it's something Minji refuses to give me. So instead, she offered you to me. Your precious group leader sold you out."

Put her tiny chin into your hand and for the first time, Hanni locks eyes with you. Minji's manipulation roots deeper, as there is not a hint of belief in the words you say. Rather, Hanni listens to the girl in her ear, at her ear, that licks her ear and tells her sweet lies:

"He is playing with you. He likes to play. But don't worry, he will help us.

"Don't you want to be a star, Hanni? The most successful foreign idol?" You hear Minji opening Hanni's belt as she melts in between your thumb and index finger. Her lips look so full and perfect. You'd bet your career that she is already a great sucker, maybe even better than Minji is at this point. "My sacrifice can't be for nothing, and yours won't be either."

Hanni's pants drop to the floor, while you work to get rid of her jacket. She is like a Barbie doll: pretty, clear skin, obedient, ready to be undressed and played with. No matter what you do or where you touch, she just obliges while her features become redder and hotter. Soon, she wears nothing but her undergarments.

"You have an amazing body," you compliment her. She just nods. You order Minji to put Hanni on your bed. For now, you'll not reveal the whole story, the truth: yes, you play games, but Minji clearly is lying to Hanni, trying to get away with more than questionable methods.

You respect Minji for that. Yes, in this dedication, the lies, you see devotion for you. She is willing to sacrifice herself and even her friend for your satisfaction. It wouldn't be long now until she would truly be turned into a loyal one for you. 

You have a suspicion and you would test it out here. 

"Hanni Pham, a bright star plucked out of Australia, a Viet idol with international appeal. And a lovely voice too, dare I say even prettier than Minji's..." 

You smirk, sensing the hurt from Minji without even looking.

"Will you tell me your name?" Hanni asks as you crawl on top of her. Minji placed her in a missionary position and still rubs her hand all over her exposed thighs so she would open her legs for you.

"You don't need my name, you just need to know what I can do and what I want. My deal with Minji benefits you a lot. Tell me, how does it feel to hold a music show trophy or one of those MAMA awards?"

"G-good, Sir, it's quite the," Hanni gasps when you push her legs open and place a finger on her white, innocent panties. You search for a bit until you find her clit and rub it from side to side. "Thrill."

"Drop the Sir, with me Hanni." Lean down to her pink lips, those round, moisturized and smooth lips. "Call me Daddy."

Minji's eyes widen and she almost lets out a whimper as if to object to you. A first encounter and you already let her call you, Daddy? Did you already like Hanni more than her when you haven’t even received pleasure yet? 

"Daddy?" Hanni responds unsure. 

"Yes, Hanni. You'll be a good girl for me won't you? That's all I want. Good, loyal girls. If you do that, you can have anything you desire."

"Daddy, I want to be successful and I want to give you what you need for that." She whimpers when you put more pressure on her nub. "B-but I'm a bit scared. I have never put something inside."

"I think your friend here can help you with that. After all, she got you into that situation." You glance at Minji and she gets what you mean, though the envy at Hanni's preferential treatment is clearly visible on her wrinkled forehead.

Minji leans down and gives Hanni a firm kiss while replacing your hand on the clit that has steadily hardened and is now aroused to the point Hanni's panties become stained with wet spots.

You glance at Minji in thanks. 

"Oh and Minji: no more kissing Hanni unless I command it. Her lips and your lips, belong to me only. Is that clear?" She can only meekly nod. "I hope you haven't been touching anyone else during our time together, Minji. That would really upset me." 

You already know the answer. Given how easily Minji’s and Hanni’s lips connected just this evening, you know it's something they are comfortable with. That would end now. 

Before Minji can answer you, you focus back on Hanni and the sticky sensation spreading over your fingers.

"Already wet for me? You're taking to my touch a lot better than your leader. Tell me, Hanni, you're not afraid of me, are you? Just ask me to touch you more. Tell me what you want."

Hanni is still hesitant, though there is shyness only in the way her mouth doesn't move and admit to her body's obvious reaction. She leaks onto your fingers, her chest heaves heavily, faster. You insert a finger, as well as part of those drenched panties inside her and finally, the right words slip out.

"Your fingers feel so good, fu-uck."

"That's what I wanted to hear." You smile and lean down to Hanni's face. Her lips instinctively pucker, her eyes fall shut, oh, how incredible: she is already yours. You let her wait there, finger twirling, pretending to push aside her panties and go for the real deal, but you're all teasing. Hanni mewls.

"Please, D-Daddy, kiss me."

"I will, when I put it in."

"W-will it hurt? Will you hurt me Daddy?"

"Only if you want me to, baby girl, but you want what Daddy wants, right? It might hurt to begin with, but it will feel so good for both of us." 

The chemistry between you two surprises Minji as she backs off, her hands away from the young women for the first time. Hanni nods. 

"Make me feel good, Daddy. I trust you."

Hook your fingers in Hanni's panties and at last, her soaked entrance is exposed, for your eyes only. You stroke your cock a couple of times, get the fresh girl juice all over it and gaze over the insanely well-trained body you're about to ravish.

Hanni's abdomen is to die for. The muscles on her midriff are absolutely stunning, the same goes for her navel perfectly resting in between them and then further up her subtle boobs, which Minji frees from the bra after your command. It all ends with Hanni’s chin, the sweat that runs down her throat, the faint sparkle of perfection—to sum it up, Hanni is incredibly beautiful.

You take hold of her hips and bask in the way your cock and her hole are magnetically attracted and connect. Hanni throws her head back at the impact and with every inch you stuff into her, her breathing becomes more erratic. Funnily enough, the same goes for Minji, who quietly scoots back and rests at the headboard of the bed.

As you slowly pump half of your cock in and out of the tight cavern, Minji goes for the same rhythm and rubs her clit, hand buried in her pants. She even goes and opens the first buttons. Is it really this girl that wants to keep control over her virginity? Let her have it for now, she'll be yours soon enough.

"Daddy, just focus on me!” Hanni whines out her first words after becoming a full blown woman. “You-you didn't need her, right?"

"Then make me forget, baby girl. Squeeze my cock with your pink little pussy." You go and have a taste of Hanni’s fat lips again, wishing they would suck your balls right now. Hanni could become a whore who would worship your crown jewels like no other. Better than Minji, whose eyes beg to be involved in the action. "Spread your legs more, I want to fuck you harder, Hanni.

"Oh and Minji: Go and suck my balls! That's what you're good for."

"O-okay, Master."

"Be grateful for it. But remember, no cumming."

"Thank you, Master."

"Daddy?” Hanni whimpers softly. “Why does she call you, Master? Is one better?" 

"Oh baby girl. Daddy is more affectionate. It's what you deserve. Minji still has to learn, her heart isn't in this yet."

Minji's heart might not be in the right place (rather the place you intend it to be) but her lips surely are. She gives your swinging balls a good suck and slows done the pace at which your fucking Hanni's pussy. 

It's amazing how well she adjusted to your size, even with your length and girth growing continuously at her fantastic heat and texture. Hanni handles you like a pro, and like one of your pro girls, she is already more drool than straight thoughts.

"Does it feel good, Daddy's hard cock in your virgin pussy? Get used to it because it's the only thing your hole will know. I will be the only one to use your holes, is that clear?"

"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy," Hanni moans and her body rocks violently on the bed sheets. "You-you are so much better."

"Better than what, baby girl?"

Hanni puts both her weak hands on the back of your head and pulls you down to where her lips meet your ears to tell you lewd things that Minji must not hear.

"Better than Minji's fingers."

You take this as a cue to grab Hanni's thighs and angle her in such a way that you can slam into her cunt harder. You let gravity do the work while the force of the entire bed frame shaking has Minji trembling in awe. She rubs her thighs together and tries to keep her hands busy with other spots of her heated body.

You can see that she wants to rub her clit while you make Hanni cum during her precious first time. She is probably projecting, wants you to go softly, then harder, but that is not your game.

"Hanni, no more of that, no more Minji's fingers. Only Daddy shall touch you from now on. You are mine and I'm going to go as hard as I want." You growl out slamming into her even more. "Take it all, Hanni, prove your fucking worth to me."

"Thank y-you, Daddy," Hanni begins her way down the rabbit hole of subjugation towards only you. The new life she will enter, all the changes, challenges and benefits will overwhelm her, but first you overwhelm her with your rod. "Thank you, for help-ing us, thank you for the wins, thank—ah, Daddy, I'm cumming! My pussy is cumming! Thank you for your cock, Daddy!"

You enter a nirvana drilling into Hanni's tight cunt. 

"Good girl, yes thank me, beg me, need me. This is the only cock you will ever have from now on and—" You kiss her with wanton lust, shoving your tongue in her mouth. The next whisper in Hanni's ear is out of Minji’s reach, though she might be too distracted from your delicious balls to get what you were saying either way. 

"Daddy! I understand, yes." 

Without losing focus of your hammering, you give a dismissive order to Minji, who is not worth your eyes on her.

"You can go Minji. I don't need you here. In fact, we can end our deal. You got what you needed right? Wins and fame. I won't meddle with your group in anyway. You are free to go."

"What?" Minji shrieks, completely offended that you could say such a thing.

"You heard me. Fuck. Off." Every word is empathized by a huge thrust that bulges Hanni's tummy. She stares at it in infinite bliss, then throws her head back as you knead her small tits and make the nipples hard like steel.

"B-but Master, you can't just do that."

"You did not keep your part of the bargain and still got what you wanted. Why the hell are you still here?"

"But I did!” Minji argues and climbs in front of you on the bed. “I brought you, Hanni, Master! I—" 

"Hanni, turn around and get in position, I want both of us to look at Minji. I'm going to fuck you from behind.

"What's wrong, Minji? You never truly wanted me in the first place. We both got what we needed from our deal. You don't need my help, your group will be successful. I made sure of it. I am releasing you from our contract with no punishments. Take the fucking deal, Minji."

Minji sits there, on the bed, not moving from her position. In utter shock as she watches Hanni smile and moan as you take her from behind, her pussy stretched again. God, how good she must feel, that face says it all. The pleasure, the desire, all the praises for your cock and it's only because she has her tongue sticking out like it's numb.

Suddenly, it all seems so clear to Minji, so easy to comprehend. She takes a deep breath and learns towards you, her upper body prompted up. All that just to throw her dignity away, to throw herself underneath you.

"Daddy, please! Give me your cock too! Take my virginity, don't push me away!"

You stop thrusting into Hanni right away and pull out for a moment to look at her. 

"Bullshit. I told you we were done here. You don't mean that. You just want my power and connections like everyone else."

"No, I mean it," Minji reassures, but words are nothing when it comes to her current state. She has to follow it up with more, significantly more. You doubt that she can deliver, but low and behold, she unbuttons her jeans and peels them off to show her long legs and the thoroughly drenched panties.

"Mi-Minji, what in the," Hanni moans and goes silent when you smack her ass. It's unbelievable that she is already so obedient and well-trained without training. The more she impresses you, the more Minji has to follow up. Soon she is on her back, jeans on the floor, shut legs turned towards you.

You put your hand on her thigh and though it's tough on her, Minji spreads her trembling legs wide. You poke her lips through her panties and when she squirms you give her a quick slap on her face. 

"Look at me, Minji," you order and she does. "Beg me, call me Master until I have given you, no, until I have taken what is rightfully mine."

"Please, Master," Minji cries out. "Please take my virginity, y-you own it."

"Louder," you growl and smack her covered pussy. Minji cries out, her pleas louder and louder with every new hit you give her cunt. Oh the way her eyes sparkle and body jerks is addicting, you don't realize that you have started to fuck back into Hanni who might have seen Minji naked before, who might have had sex with her—

—but this is new. Minji is a brainless mess, her pussy red from the beating, her face fully in tears. 

"Master, fuck my pussy, please! Fuck this pussy, my worthless pussy, it's yours! Make me full, make me full, I don't deserve it!"

"Now we are getting there," you viciously laugh and grab her chin to aggressively tonguefuck her wet, silly mouth. Minji is such a mess, dazed to the point Hanni's hands undressing her top after your order doesn't even faze her. Her top is gone, her bra as well. All that's left are her panties and Hanni has her fingers already hooked in them.

"Wait, Hanni, she should do it alone."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Ma-Master?"

"Lay down, Minji.

"Pull them to the side.

"Show me your pussy.

"Say it.”

Minji slowly and clumsily works on pulling and getting her wet panties off of her. There is an unfathomable amount of embarrassment in the way Minji’s eyes cannot hold your strong, charismatic gaze for long.

"Shall I feast on your pussy, Minji?" You ask with a smirk and hunger in your eyes.

They all turn eventually. It sometimes sounds so sudden and drastic, but it's all more or less the same. It builds up over time, like an orgasm. Some girls are quiet, until it bursts out of them in a heavy gush that has the entire floor wet. Some are loud the entire way through and what was once only lip service becomes reality, a reality they adore.

They all turn and they all get your cock. So does Minji, with her finger still spreading those sore, red folds and you ignoring her pleasure just to find yours in this wet, messy hole. Minji's cunt is remarkable, cute in the way it ripples and tightens and incredibly lewd in the way it sounds when you slam yourself in and out while holding onto her slim waist.

Now she is part of the loud girls, those idols that suddenly come to worship you more than the career that they fought so hard for. It will be later that they realize that this is the way they get approval from their company, their sponsors, their fans. You are success, the Queen maker for the outside world and a toy maker in your bedroom.

Minji is a great toy. She is euphoric now, the pain already gone. She makes sure to adjust to your will, lifts her hips off the ground when you need to slow down, shows you her tongue when you go for a kiss, and always says the right things. It was so hard for her not long ago, but now she is willing to do it despite Hanni laying next to her and admiring both of you fucking like animals. 

"Hanni," you groan and hammer your cock balls deep into Minji, who throws her head back in another (accidental) orgasm. "I know you want to fuck both of us so bad, but if you don't touch yourself until I'm finished with her, I'm gonna cum on your pretty face and tell you how good you are, okay?"

"O-okay, Daddy," Hanni mewls. Not that she would have touched herself, but you can't blame her for considering it. Caress her cheek softly for being so good, then fucking destroy Minji's cunt because she has been so bad.

"Master, more, pl-please, fuck!" Minji howls with pleasure. 

"You're going to be my good girl from now on, right?" 

"Yes, Master, use me however you want. I-I just want to live to fulfill your desires. Master!" 

You stare deeply at her and pause right before the next spike rattles Minji’s brain. 

"Really? With every atom in your body. Tell me again, Minji."

"Every-thing." Minji can barely talk but does so for you, despite you, despite the large dick that is reshaping her insides. "You own everything, Master. You c-can use me daily, everywhere, any-time. I-I mean it!"

You lean down to her and give her a simple, hard thrust to make sure she gets your point.

"You're a good girl?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then call me Daddy," you whisper into her ear and put a hand on her throat, ready to press down on it.

"Thank you, Daddy," Minji rasps before you choke her hard and fuck her absolutely senseless. Orgasm after orgasm shoots through her frame, her existence becomes numb, she is a fleshlight now. The vibrations of her climax become your stimulation and at the last possible second, you pull out of that twitching hole. 

"Get on your knees Hanni," you order in time. Hanni kneels before you as you somehow slide off the bed, legs a bit shaky and with her head thrown back because you could not resist pulling her raven hair, you cum all over her features. "God, you are such a pretty girl. I can't believe such beauty loves cum on her face."

"It's Daddy's cum," Hanni moans and sucks on your tip to get more on her lips. The rest has mostly covered her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. "Of course I like it!"

"That is right, baby girl, well said," you compliment her and pat her head while she instinctively cleans your cock with superb care. "Did you ever service someone else?"

"No?" Hanni asks and collects your cream off of her stupidly gorgeous face.

"You, I swear to God, you can't be that good right from the start."

Hanni pouts her lips and puts them under your cock. She truly is one in a million, the rare idol who barely hesitates and immediately knows how to do the right things. In many regards, she reminds you of Kazuha, who told you it was her kinks that made her adapt so easily. Maybe this is the case for Hanni as well. Should that make her devotion less impressive?

"Daddy?" Hanni cutely asks and waits.

"Open your mouth, I need to fuck it now."

[gghostwriter]

hi dear author! how are you?

I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3

Thank you!!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid

The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 

But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 

Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.

———

Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 

“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”

“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 

The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”

A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”

The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—

“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”

Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 

“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.

“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”

He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”

With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.

Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 

When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 

He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.

He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.

“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.

The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.

Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”

Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”

He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”

“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”

Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”

“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.

 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.

Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”

“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 

His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 

Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 

“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.

The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 

Silence. 

“I-I’m what?!” 

The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”

The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 

You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 

He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 

You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 

He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 

You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 

“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 

He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”

You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”

He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[vids-in-space]

Flowers...Letters...And Sex. (Caleb x fem!MC Smut)

4.3k words.

Summary: Caleb takes you somewhere new. Somewhere special. You two share a very special moment in your own little world.

Trigger warnings: None really. Just enjoy a fluffy smutty fic!

Tags: Fluffy sex, p in v sex, riding, unprotected (please be safe out there!), soft dom Caleb, Caleb and MC are virgins, Caleb is a consent king, 1st person POV

Disclaimer: I am not used to writing smut, unless it’s for a roleplay. So, I suppose this is my first smut that I am sharing on any sort of social media. I proofread and edited as best as I could. Not beta read.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The first kiss Caleb and I shared was pure. Like we were both virgins experiencing love for the first time. I think maybe we were. At least - I was a virgin. I wasn’t sure about Caleb. Then, the kiss slowly evolved into more. His passionate tongue thrusted into my mouth, making steamy breaths escape from between my lips. I felt and tasted his sweet floral salvia, and almost begged him to spit into my mouth. That was probably too filthy for our first time.

Caleb had taken me to heaven and now he was making me feel it.

The waves under the boat rocked us back and forth. It forced Caleb to press up against me, pushing his restrained erection into the hem of my dress and on the inside of my thigh. I swore these flowers we were surrounded by were made of some sort of aphrodisiac, and now all I could think about was fucking the brains out of the man I grew up with.

Pulling back first, Caleb looked down at me with those galaxy eyes of his. They swirled with deep and bright colors of purple. I could get lost in them, and happily stay lost. I brush strands of his mullet brown hair out of his face. “I like this magic trick much better…”

Caleb’s signature smile grows. “I can show you one that’s even better than this.” His eyes locked with mine, but then slowly trailed down until they were locked somewhere else. I knew where they were traveling. First, my neck, right where my heart beat would be pulsing. Then, my breasts, which were spilling out slightly of the yellow dress I chose to wear. He was hungry for me, and I was hungry for him.

I was ready.

“Oh yeah? Care to explain that magic trick you’ve got brewing?”

Chuckling, Caleb pressed his lips against the shell of my right ear. “...It’s one where I make our clothes disappear…” he spoke huskily.

Both his hands moved over my breasts, and I allowed him a gentle squeeze before I grabbed his wrists to stop him. His eyes finally flicked back up to mine, and his breath hitches. That damn near perfect Adam’s Apple of his bobs. “...If you want them to,” he added, begging me to say yes with eyes that were like puppy dogs.

How could I say no?

“Yes.” I breathed out, and immediately saw the relief flood through his eyes. He leaned down to peck my lips again.

I spoke up against his lips, not returning the kiss. “In fact, if you don’t take my clothes off right now, I fear I might explode…”

Caleb pulled back and raised his eyebrow.

Oh, bad timing.

I didn’t mean for it to come off that way, but it did. The unimpressed expression that Caleb gave me was funny. I pressed a palm against my mouth to suppress my giggle.

Caleb gently shoved me by my shoulder, pinning me back against the pillow on the boat. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“It must be very funny, considering how entertained you look right now.” I shot back then matched his grin.

I lunged up and wrapped my left arm around his neck, throwing my whole body weight into him. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but instead stumble back a little. My lips pressed to his and both our eyes closed, our panting and breaths becoming one against each other, molding into a single puff of air. He’s moaning against me, sucking my very soul from my body. I’m defenseless. I can’t stop him.

Both his hands come up, cupping my shoulders, pushing the straps of my yellow dress down. Soon, the dress spills down, leaving me completely topless since I relied on the padding of the dress and not a bra.

I gasp, and instinctively cover my breasts with both my hands. I feel my nipples pebble against my palms.

“Don’t hide from me.” This time, Caleb grabbed my wrists, trying to stop me. He doesn’t pull them away entirely, as though he was waiting for my consent. His eyes remained locked with mine. “...Right now, we exist in a world with only the two of us. You don’t have to hide from me. I don’t want you to hide from me.” Caleb’s eyes flick down to my covered breasts, then back up to my face. Slowly, I let my hands fall back down. “Thank you…Thank you.”

Grunting, Caleb pressed an open mouth kiss to the dip in my collarbone before trailing down to my breasts. He moans against my skin, leaving wet and hot patches of saliva wherever he kisses. Again, that thought of him spitting in my mouth rose. I pushed them away.

Soon, he moves his head to the mound of my right breast, capturing a nipple in his mouth. He sucks the moment his greedy mouth is on me.

I cry out and arch my back. It’s impossible not to. I nearly throw myself back against the cushion once more, but his hands steady and keep me upright with a hand on my lower back so he can continue the ministrations against my sensitive breast. His lips suction softly then move onto nibbling, and I bite my bottom lip. His hand, the one I know that he can’t feel with, grasps at my other bud and pinches it. I bite my bottom lip again to hold off a scream this time, even though I know that right now I was allowed to be as loud as I wanted to. Since it’s just us. Then, I grab his other hand and replace it with the other, wanting to make sure he feels every moment. Just like me.

Caleb pulled back from my breast, salvia connected his lips to the pebbled lump of skin.

“You sound just like how I always imagined you to sound…” He breathed against my breast. His warm breath against the cooling patch of spit on my nipple creates new sensations I never thought I would feel before.

Caleb presses a tender kiss to the nipple and lets his tongue dart up to lick a single stripe. I want more.

Coming back up, Caleb presses me back into another frenzied kiss while his large hands work on taking off the rest of my dress, leaving me bare, except in my panties. He leans back.

I know he wants to take me all in. I wonder what’s stopping him from taking his phone out and snapping photos of my naked body right now. He thinks I don’t know about the other, more secretive photo stash he has of me back in Skyhaven. He’s so mistaken. I found some when I found those old letters he wrote for me.

“You’re so beautiful…” He sighed and reached down to hook his fingers into my panties, about to pull them down.

Reaching out, I press my hand against his hard bicep. He stops immediately and looks at me. “What is it?” he asked softly. There was a hint of eagerness to his tone. He wants to tear my panties off right now, but still wants my consent. This sends a hot flood of lava up and down my body, before settling in my core and eventually on a patch of those panties he wanted to take off me.

His tongue darts out, licking his lips as he watches the pooling patch of arousal grow.

“I think you’re overdressed. I want to see you naked too,” I say, my words coming out a bit more bashful than what I would have liked.

I stroked along his chest. I wrapped my hands around the dog tag that he always wore. It didn’t match this outfit he wore in particular, but I am honored he would wear such a thing. When I first got it for him, I thought it had been such a stupid gift. But now, I could see that it had become part of his whole world.

“Please, let me undress you, Caleb…” I begged, digging my fingers into his bare skin. He flinches when my nails scrape him.

“O-Of course…” Caleb nodded his head. Right now, Colonel Caleb didn’t exist. The old Caleb did - the one I grew up with.

He put his hands over top of mine and moved them for me, helping me push his clothing aside. Together, we both undress Caleb. Each button was a slow race to the ending, the zipper of his pants coming down was me claiming victory.

We sit in silence before each other in nothing but undergarments, our faces redder than the flowers around us. We could only take in each other, just silently praising each other.

A bird nearby chirps.

“Can I?” Caleb’s hands hover over the top of my hips, breaking the silence.

I giggled and cupped his cheeks with my hands. “You don’t have to ask me for consent anymore, Caleb. I’m all yours. This is your final time asking permission to do whatever you want to me.”

His pupils dilate. I said just the right thing. He leans forward, my hands falling away from face as we kiss. Each kiss feels like fire against my skin. I’m addicted. Better than any drug found in the N109 zone.

Caleb grabs at my panties and pulls them down my thighs.

“Fuck.” He curses. “You shouldn’t have given me consent like that. I won’t be able to control myself.”

I can see the thick line of my arousal connecting me with my panties until Caleb pulls them away entirely. He holds the lacy black pair in his palm before he throws them onto his pile of clothes instead of mine. His lips chase mine, but I have to stop him for a moment since he’s fumbling with his own underwear. The outline of his erection is about to break the threads in his briefs.

I giggled against his lips and put my hands over his, helping him remove his clothing once more. “Dork.” You tease him.

Caleb scoffs, kneeling in front of me. He still hovered over me, having to look down at me. His hand strokes down the back of my head. “Your dork…” He sighed and pressed his forehead against mine, holding the spot as though he just wanted to hold me for a little while. I let him.

My eyes trail down. His cock stood straight against his stomach, lining perfectly with his happy trail, veins surrounding it. His cock head nearly reached his bellybutton. I reach down and gently trail my fingers up a pulsing vein alongside the underside of his cock. The largest one I see.

The way his groan escapes his lips, sends a pulsing sensation straight down to my cunt, oozing from my core and down my thighs.

“I want you in my lap…Can you please let me have you in my lap?”

My heart swells with a soft gooey feeling. I answer him with my body by shifting to be closer to him, my breasts pressing against his chest. He shifts from being on his knees to resting his rear on the cloth above the boat. I straddle his lap, his hands immediately grabbing my plush hips to pull me further into him.

“I’ve always wanted you.” He breathed against me. Against my neck. “The moment I knew that we could do things like this together, I knew you would become a danger to me.”

“I’ve wanted you more…”

“I seriously doubt that. I saved myself just for you.”

So Caleb was a virgin…

Caleb’s knees lift a little, allowing me to lean my rear back against them for support. I was about to press down against his cock, but he stopped me. He looked down between us, at my wet folds, before spreading my legs with one hand on my right knee, pushing it to the side. His other hand was against my shoulder blades. He was admiring me. Admiring those puffy virgin lips of mine.

Caleb’s cock was right across from my cunt. All I had to do was press forward and his shaft would fall victim to my grinding. But Caleb restrains me.

“I have to touch you first…” Caleb let go of my knee and reached between us. I did my best to keep my legs open for him, a jolt of pleasure shooting through me when he touches me, feeling around in an experimental manner. “I know you’ve never slept with anyone before. I have to be gentle. As much as I want to pound you until your cunt perfectly molds into my shape.”

At first, his eyes were locked on his fingers and my cunt but when a needy moan escaped my lips, they shot up to my eyes.

“How are you so perfect at everything you do?”

All I can do is shake my cloudy head. “I-I’m not.”

Caleb’s fingers flick against my clit, as though he was trying to punish me. “Don’t say that. Tell me how perfect you are.” He rubs circles on me, slow and teasing…Like a warning that he was in charge and would not hesitate to stop and let me squirm. “Go on, baby…” His voice lowered. The huskiness sent shivers down my spine.

“I-I am perfect…” I barely manage to breathe out. His thumb flicked over my clit some more, relieving some pressure in my lower stomach.

“Good girl. Anddddd?”

“I-I’m beautiful…”

My breath hitches as his thumb pitches up pace. He’s somehow memorized when to pull away. “We should do some more affirmations like these. Every morning. Until it’s ingrained in your mind that you are a literal goddess, do you understand me?” Caleb’s words became more firm. I knew that I had to listen to him, if I expected to make it out of this alive. “Now say it all again, and I’ll give you everything you ever wanted…” He promised.

I close my eyes, taking a needed deep breath. When I open my eyes, I make sure that I look at the man I love confidently, so he understood that I meant everything that I was about to say. “I-I am beautiful, Caleb. I’m perfect. I’m a goddess.”

The side of Caleb’s mouth quirked up. “That’s my girl.”

Everything moved so fast after that. I gasped as Caleb shifted our bodies. He pulled me closer by my hip, his other hand shifting from my clit to his cock. I watched as he ran the tip between my folds, sending shivers and shockwaves through my body. Caleb had to close his eyes as though he was processing the sensations coursing through his body.

Caleb’s tip pressed against my entrance. There was an uncomfortable intrusion that made me gasp and cover my mouth.

“Caleb⁠—!” I cry out.

Caleb stopped immediately and looked deep into my eyes, almost pulling the tip out of my hole. I reached down and stopped him by gripping his wrist. I didn’t want him to pull out of me, no matter how much it was hurting. “Please don’t make me stop…It’ll get better. Please, baby, I just need you.”

A lump bobs in Caleb’s throat. “O-Okay���”

I reached out and touched his cheek. Now it was my turn to reassure him. “Just let gravity do the work…” I pant.

Both my hands press against his chest, steading myself as I rock my hips, forcing his cock deeper inside me. We both moan in unison, our foreheads pressing against each other’s, deepening our already solid bond.

At first, when my eyes opened, Caleb’s were still closed, but his mouth was wide open in silent moans. I leaned down and pressed my mouth against his. His eyes widened in shock as my tongue pressed into his mouth, tangling with his. His cock was half way inside me, settling deep inside my core, splitting it in two. I can feel exactly where he rests inside me. It felt like he could reach the deepest depths of my womb, even though I know it’s not possible. The thought of it however makes me clench more.

Caleb groaned. He wrapped both arms around my shoulders, dragging me right against his chest, bottoming out inside me. His chin rested against my shoulder.

“I love you so much…” He whispered against my ear. “I love you so much. I’m never letting you go…After this, we’re stuck together…” He shifted so his lips pressed against the soft skin of my neck, trailing many kisses on the sensitive and flushed flesh. “I’ll make sure we’re stuck like this every morning and every night.”

“You mean everything to me, Caleb. I love you so much…”

“Can I please thrust, please? I need you so much. I need you more than anything…” Caleb begged and his breath hitches when I clench around his cock.

“Do it, Caleb. Make love with me…” I hold onto Caleb as he sputters.

Almost instantly, he tightened his grip around my waist and thrusted upward, his cock pulling out and pressing back inside me. His thick cock rubs the sensitive walls of my cunt. The burning sensation made me wild, and my hips naturally rolled against his. We were both a moaning mess, causing the boat to rock back and forth.

Please don’t tip over. Please don’t tip over.

“I’ve always wanted to do this…” Caleb’s fingers threaded through my hair, pressing against the back of my skull. He leaned forward and gently nipped my bottom lip. “To have you all to myself. I’ve been selfish, but when it comes to you I want to be the most selfish man in the world. I feel like I can’t live without you. Now I won’t be able to live without feeling your warm cunt around my cock every day.”

I savored his words. They went through my ear and traveled down to my heart, where I held them dear.

“Caleb…” My forehead pressed against his. My sweat mixed with his. “I love you so much. I don’t imagine myself doing this with anyone else…”

Caleb bucked against me, and I felt the tip of his cock stroke a sensitive bit inside me. There are stars in my eyes.

Everything tipped backward. Caleb tightened his grip on me and threw me back onto the boat. Briefly, his cock slipped out of me, and I ached for that feeling of him filling me to return. My best friend pulled me out of his lap and tossed me back onto the boat. My rear hit soft cloth while the back of my head hit the cushion. Caleb was on top of me the next second, his dog tags dangling in my face. I reached my hands out and ran them down the soft but slick skin of his chest.

Caleb’s hand touched my cheek. “I can’t hold back anymore…”

“You were holding back in the first place?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I cup his cheek. “You won’t. Please…I need you. Never hold back with me.”

Caleb reached between us and once again took the lead. He grabbed his cock and rubbed it against my clit and my folds, teasing me as though he needed to hear me whine and beg for him again, so I did. He pressed inside me before I could beg him for more friction. My walls were so slick that he slipped inside of me with less friction than before. With this new angle with him on top of me, he reached the deepest parts inside me, until I felt like I would burst.

Then, he rocked forward. His cock barely pulled out before slamming back inside, abusing my poor cervix until I swore there would be bruising. Bruises I would never see, but always feel.

His entire weight crushed me. I had nowhere to put my legs other than wrap around his waist. One of his hands held my plush thigh, keeping the leg wrapped tight around me as the other arm wrapped around my neck. I could tell that he didn’t want to get away from me. Didn’t want to lift off of me for one second. I would die happy with this man crushing me.

Wet noises different from the water lapping at the edge of the boat filled the air. The sound of our arousal as Caleb’s cock slipped in and out of me effortlessly thanks to how damn wet I was. I could even feel the slick from how it dripped down his balls as they slammed against my ass.

Caleb wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. No matter how much I moaned and whimpered, digging my nails into his shoulders, he wasn’t fucking slowing down.

I never thought I knew how completeness would feel until I felt him buried so deep inside of me that I thought he was just an extension of my body. How his lips felt better than any other man’s against mine, and how I never want to part from him.

“Gah…” I panted against his lips, both my hands framing his cheeks. At my moan, he slams deep inside me and halts. I feel the entire length of his cock bundled up inside me. He bucks, forcing a few more moans out of me, his pelvis rubbing against my engorged clit. “Caleb…Please don’t stop. Please help me. I want to cum more than anything.”

“I won’t ever stop. You’re mine, and I’m yours…” He bucked again, before continuing his steady rhythm of thrusting inside me. “Keep moaning like that for me, Baby. Let me know how much you love this.” He presses his lips hungrily against mine, licking against my teeth.

I comply. The surging call of my imminent orgasm builds up as his cock hits my G-spot. I know I’m done for when I see the mischievous glint in Caleb’s eyes. He knows that’s the right spot.

“Right there, eh?” Caleb stops and I whine. He grabs the underside of my right thigh and pushes it up. There’s a nice stretch that I would normally only feel during Yoga until my knee touched against my breast. Caleb is still buried half way inside me. I can see the explicit way he stretches my cunt, the lips spread around the shaft of his cock. I never thought that I would ever see such an erotic sight. Caleb’s eyes flicker, taking in every part of me, down low to my cunt all the way up to my breasts. He pushes my leg down a bit more before finally, his eyes find mine. Those bright purple eyes of his have darkened a little, making my clench a little more. “I think I found the jackpot.”

Caleb pulled his hips back, then slammed into me, taking my breath away. A scream is lost in my voice.

Body pressing down against mine, Caleb crushes me and pounds inside me, hitting that one spot over and over. What was a small tingling at first, was a whole overload of pleasure as he doesn’t let up for one second.

“Caleb…Caleb, please…” I choke out, my nails digging into his shoulders. I didn't want him to stop, but at the same time my body was telling me that if he didn’t stop I would explode. “S’too much…”

“I know, baby, but once you cum, then I can cum too, then we can do this all over again…”

“P-Promise?”

“I promise, Pipsqueak.”

Caleb pressed his lips against mine, his body crushing me until I felt the wood of the boat digging into me. Caleb’s pace is fast and hard, and soon I find that I can’t hold back the explosion of arousal in my lower stomach. I cum around his cock, my eyes squeezing shut.

But Caleb keeps thrusting, chasing his own high as he kisses and sucks on the edge of my neck. He keeps me pinned with one of my legs in the air. There's a messy slick that keeps following Caleb’s pelvis from my cunt when he pulls back and pushes back inside me.

“F-Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I don’t know who is cursing at this point.

I grip his sides, wanting to dig deep down and wrap my fingers around his ribs and hold on for dear life. I know he’s seconds away from cumming by how his face contorts, his thrusting becomes more uncoordinated, and his breathing is ragged.

I try to get Caleb to focus on me by holding his face and pressing my lips to his. “I love you, Caleb…”

That sets him off. Caleb curses and makes sure his hips are pressed flush right against mine, cock buried straight up to the hilt when he comes. My heartbeat drums in my ears and I could barely feel the sensation of his cum shooting ropes against my cervix and filling my womb and my canal.

Caleb lets go of my thigh and I brace for him to fall on top of me, but he catches himself last second with his elbows next to my head. His entire body lays across mine, shielding me. If Skyhaven could look down at us right now, they wouldn’t see me, just Caleb’s bare ass.

“I love you too, Pipsqueak…” His voice becomes softer. He runs his fingers up my palm before his fingers link with mine. He uses his real, fleshy hand to bring my knuckles to his lips. He kisses my skin.

As I look past the man, I see fluttering flower petals raining down, the vines of trees dangling toward us. Caleb was right. This was our little world, and this world was so goddamn beautiful. I never want to leave. I never wanted Caleb to leave me ever again. I want to move here with only him, and live out the rest of my happy days in peace and sex.

Caleb catches his breath, chuckling and bringing me out of my thoughts. “...Want to go round two?”

[supernova41st]

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who honestly looks really sweet and nice, but they're actually really blunt and rude like every time they open their mouth it's just "YOU #### ILL ### YOUR ### UNTIL YOU ######!!!"

Sweet n’ Sour 🎀

Mercs x “nice”! Reader

(pt.2)

A/n: MWAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM. Rn I’m planning to make a fic of my own after this then I’ll be doing more requests afterwards so please be sure to suggests something I may do!!

Warnings: Harsh insults, Suggestive, Patronizing

Scout

Somebody warn him before he does some stupid shit like asking you out

At first he saw you as some ditzy babe he can pull unlike how classy Ms Pauling was, so he didn’t go to spy for you

I mean he still would’ve gotten his ass handed to him if he went to spy

“Sup princess, was wondering if you’d let me pop a soda with you and maybe you’d let me pop something else” lip bite

“..can you pop that giant disgusting pimple on your forehead instead??”

he ran to his room and began to cry, spy had some questions

“…what did you do? What did you say to him?”

“Omfg, what are you his dad? Jesus it hasn’t even been a week here and I’m already so fuckin tired of these guys god it’s like middle school all over again”

You just rambled on how annoyed you were

Oh yeah, he did pop that pimple eventually

Scout (like the child he is) went to spy because he genuinely wanted to know what he did wrong, like seriously wanted to know

“And then she friggin’ told me I had a gross pimple on my face and none of it wasn’t my fault!! I mean-seriously do chics just decide to be bitchy whenever they want?”

“Scout. You went up to a woman, a real woman, patronized her, and what? You thought she was going to suddenly want to be your ‘babe’ as you call it?”

“…okay I see how she could’ve took it the wrong way, BUT”

Spy smacked the shit out of him lol

He was so scared of you even if you did fight alongside him, he was scared you were gonna chew him up again the way you did before.

At the same time it did get him pretty hard to see you out there, something about you yelling at enemies swearing to kill them and their families just got him going

“CANT SNEAK AWAY FROM THIS AK MOTHERFUCKER”

“Uhh, I need to go take a dump or sumthin’ like dat”

He always thought about asking you out but the way you responded to his attempt at hooking up with you was enough to make hide his feelings

But you definitely weren’t one to hide yours, you quickly recognized that his dumbassery turned your laced panties into a slip n’ slide. So of course you went up to him asking to go out

“Hey Jeremy, I saw you out there bashing that heavy’s head in like it was nothing. You looked cute”

“Oh, y-yeah I mean pfft it’s what I do I mean it’s nothing special unless you think it’s sumthin’ special which I totally agree with you if you think it’s cool-“

“Shh- how about when we go back to the base I help you with some new techniques and you show me some of yours?”

Scout didn’t know if that was a metaphor for sex or if he was going to get his ass destroyed by you, but either way the answer was gonna be yes

Medic

When you first joined the team he never really expressed that he thought you wouldn’t be a good edition to the team

It only ever showed while on a mission, he’d almost never Uber you because he thought of you as weak

The first time he really interacted with you was in the battlefield he kept on using his syringe gun instead of healing the the team

You got so frustrated with him and just had to say something

“MEDIC PUT THE FUCKING GUN AWAY AND UBER HEAVY YOU FOUR-EYE BITCH” you screamed, slapping his gun way and shaking his collar

He blushed at the sight of you snapping at him, so unexpected yet so.. hot

“Oh, ja.. of course ♡”

The love in this man’s eyes compared to the hate in yours was astonishing, of course he immediately went to go do what you told him, all for you and only you

As soon as the match finished he couldn’t stop thinking about how much fury you had, he was definitely going to pocket you in the next match

It was so exciting to see you, so beautiful, yet so aggressive on the field

He’s always calming you whenever you get angry, basically this photo

We all know Medic likes to be a bit messy himself with his bonesaw, you hate it when he gets messy around you

“Ugh!! Medic! You got blood on my skirt, do we need to get your ass another pair of glasses??”

“Now now, I itz nothing to worry about my love. I know my vway around a blood stain!”

“Okay,, but if this thing is still on here by then you’re buying me another.”

He enjoys watching you get ready in your pretty outfits and makeup. Medic is well maintenance but it doesn’t compare to how long it takes for you to get ready

You defending him is his fav thing ever, he never shows it a lot but he loves it when you cuss out mercs who think they aren’t getting enough healing

“SCOUT YOU PEICE OF SHIT STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM MEDIC IF YOU WANT HEALING!!”

“Aww, y/n ☺️”

No but you guys are so cute, esp when he Ubering you

He’s always cheering you on as you tear the enemy team apart

“You’re doing well my perle!!”

“Thanks my love! WHO WANTS THEIR BALLS CRUSHED”

Soldier

As soon soldier saw you he was kinda annoyed in a way? He didn’t want to kick you out or anything but he did want you to prove yourself to him, he wasn’t just gonna let a wuss fight alongside him

He once tried to push you to your limit by making you do some exercise but nothing could’ve prepared him for how you were gonna respond

“DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME 40 CUPCAKE”

“Uh-uh I KNOW ur not talking to me bitch”

“DID I STUTTER?”

“DID I STUTTER?? DONT YOU HAVE LIKE AN EAGLE TO WALK OR SOMETHING? GO SHOVE A ROCKET UP YOUR ASS”

You continued to give him the death stare, but soldier just stood there

You guys made out hard, right there and then. He just couldn’t resist, we all know how he feels about strong ladies

After that the All-American Soldier we once knew turned into a loverboy, he lives and breathes to love you

But since soldier has the lowest IQ out of all of the mercs he tends to get you on your nerves a lot

“Soldier, sweetie!! Why are we dying so much what’s the biggie? 😚”

“APOLOGIES CUPCAKE, BUT IT APPEARS I HAVE KILLED ANOTHER SOLDIER. AND IN THE GREAT NAME OF LADY LIBERTY, I MUST BURY IT IN HER HONOR.”

“SOLDIER GET YOUR ASS ON THE POINT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.”

“..copy that”

He always straightens his back every time he’s in your presence, he always wants to show how tough he is and that he respects you

The team gets so overstimulated whenever you two are on the same mission, especially Spy. It always ends with him getting a headache

He’ll try to get you cute gifts, but sometimes what Soldier considers ‘cute’ can be um

“Yehhehehe, SWEETHEART, I HAVE A SUPRIIISE”

“Is it another ear necklace? Soldier I told you to stop giving me those they’re gross..”

“NEGATIVE!”

“sigh Finally, what is it?”

“A BOW MADE OUT OF MY TISSUE. DOCTOR HELPED ME MAKE IT.”

“..okay what the fuck are you on like-what medicine do you take??”

For the most part soldier means no harm, he just wants to love you. Even if it means giving you jewelry made out of the flesh of his enemies <33

[magnetokisser]

ALL I CAN SAY IS I'M SORRY. (1/2)

request: hii! could you do a fic of mark grayson x reader? If you’ve watched s3 ep2, could you do where instead of mark having the earpiece hurting him, it was the reader? i wanna know how he’d react to that, maybe cecil done it since he’d know it would hurt mark emotionally more rather than doing it to mark himself.

a/n: im sorry i took so long to answer this! I was waiting until the final episode came out to binge everything, but then i kept getting tiktoks of the episodes and decided to ensue pain and agony a week earlier. I hope this fits what you had in mind! anyway this might be a two part idk! edit: I literally stayed up till 2:00 am to watch episode 8 and oh my god every season past this one is about to be actually like a punch in the gut. anyway this isn't exactly story line accurate but hey </3

summary: donald was cecil’s number one. you were his number two. you had known cecil stedman since you were a kid, well before he took title of president of the GDA. you had known no life outside of the GDA until you met mark grayson, aka invincible; but you hadn’t known him for long enough to question cecil’s word.

warnings: mark goes through more pain and agony, reader takes a resemblance to dc’s black canary, NOT PROOFREAD, cecil is ever so sneaky. cecil being a manipulative dih 🥀, reader is sheltered and oblivious. mark is kinda mean but reader is also selfish. probably will have a part two, mentions and descriptions of violence.

word count:1k~

the stone cold walls of the pentagon never comforted you, no matter how long you lived there. from the secret experiments to the constant world-threatening events, the building was never quiet. and whenever it was quiet.. you didn’t like it. it was unsettling, like something was always on the verge of blowing up, or something. but all of that changed when omni-man’s son got powers, and when omni-man caused the death of thousands during his attempt to get invincible to join his side. to make matters worse, cecil know that omni-man was lying from the moment he landed on this planet. he never did anything about him, and the citizens of chicago paid the price.

after that fateful day, your world tipped on it’s side. so, you started spending more time with invincible. not as a superhero, since cecil used what left of his power to forbid it, but as people. you enjoyed the time you spent with him, but you were sure you enjoyed him more. he was kind, more caring than anyone you had ever met (possibly aside from atom eve), and he liked you for you– not because you could scream louder than the highest frequency. 

so when angstrom levy attacked mark and his family, snapping debbie’s arm in two and hurting his baby brother, you could see a darkness in mark start to spread. it was amplified by the fact his father had a new family on an unknown planet as well. cecil was hiding things from mark, and while you knew, you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to talk to him about it. both in fear of losing his friendship, and losing everything you knew in the pentagon. so when cecil had called you into the white room telling you that the pentagon was under attack, you obeyed him like a dog.

“what’s going on?” you asked, standing behind him with furrowed brows. something about the older man was off; like he was scared. “invincible has gone rogue. he’s killed by guards, and i’m not sure if he’s going to kill me next.” he replied, his face hardening. this made you frown. 

“kill you?” you repeated, glancing between the ‘door’ to the white room and cecil. invincible? kill someone? it sounded wrong– it didn’t sound like mark at all. but you hadn’t talked to him in months, and the last you heard, he had killed angstrom levy.. but he hurt his family. you didn’t think killing him was entirely necessary, but if you had family, you’d be just as angry as mark was, too. 

“yes.” the older man turned to look at you, his face just as cold as ever. “wait for my signal. invincible isn’t in his right mind, and he’s here to attack me. attack us. when you see him, scream. scream as loud as you can.” he said, taking a few steps back and disappearing. you frowned in confusion. he never told you anything, just expected you to sit when told. 

for a few moments, there was silence. you looked around and sighed, unease settling in your nerves. suddenly, you could hear a loud racket in the hallway. grunting, crashes, and the noise was slowly getting closer. surely cecil was just lying, right? this was either a test or he was completely misreading mark. he wouldn't kill cecil, no matter how much he disliked the older man.

just as you were going to ask cecil to call whatever was going on off, mark– no, invincible burst into the room. though he was wearing his goggles, you could tell his eyes were on you. his shoulders were slightly hunched, and his breathing was ragged. he was angry, hurt– betrayed. “mark..?” you called out, taking a step towards him. “where is he?” he looked around, his breath coming out in short and loud gasps. “cecil? i can’t let you see him.” you shook your head, your lips curling into a small frown. 

“you’re protecting him?!” he exclaimed, his hands balling into fists. “if you would tell me what was going on, i’d tell you why! he hasn’t told me anything either!” you threw your hands out, feeling attacked. there was very clearly something wrong with mark, be it emotionally, physically, or mentally. “bullshit! you knew d.a. sinclair wasn’t in jail! you knew he was here, with cecil and you protecting him!” he pointed at you, causing you to look away for a moment. this, unfortunately, was true. you didn’t agree with it at all, but your own selfishness stopped you from letting anybody know. you fell silent following his accusation.

he scoffed, shaking his head as he took another step towards you. “you’re protecting a murderer, and someone who only wants to protect himself,” he growled. “show me where cecil is, and i’ll think about forgiving you.” 

luckily, or maybe unluckily, cecil stepped in for you. his hands were behind his back, and his gaze bore into mark. “there’s no need for that, mark.” he sighed. on command, about 5 reanimen appeared, surrounding mark. without giving him a chance to talk, mark ripped the reanimen to shreds. it was a scary resemblance to his father. “why would you even need these things?! d.a. sinclair and darkwing need to go to jail. they’re murderers!” he exclaimed, turning towards cecil covered in blood. 

“i need them for protection, mark.” cecil spoke, keeping up a calm front as more reanimen appeared. mark continued to fight them, and while they were doing damage, he was still taking them out. “protection from what?!” he asked, punching one of the reanimen out of the way. cecil frowned, his eyes narrowing as mark took another step towards him. 

“you, mark. i need them as protection from you.” 

mark paused and went still for a moment before his face contorted in anger once more. before you could register it, mark flew towards cecil, his hand wrapping around the older man’s throat. you knew he wasn’t trying to prove his point, but he was trying to deny it in the worst way possible. cecil looked towards you as he gasped for air, shaking his head. 

“mark..” you murmured, slowly making your way towards the two. mark looked at you, his grip on cecil loosening for a moment. “i’m sorry.” you whispered, sighing softly. you took a step back and screamed, letting out a supersonic call. mark dropped to the ground and writhed in pain, curling up into a ball. “that, mark, was y/n’s specialty. paired with your earpiece that’s too far into your brain to reach and a copy of the call that monster you fought, her scream can amplify that by tenfold.” he said, watching as mark got up. you didn’t think it would hurt him. you just assumed that he was literally invincible. but there was nothing you could say now. 

“you.. what?” mark stammered. cecil pressed a button, or something, and the void that was the white room disappeared, showing an army of reanimen. you looked around, feeling a mix of fear and shock. the two men kept talking as you looked around, not knowing what to think. this was getting to be too much for you. just as you tuned back into the conversation, mark tried to fly off, and cecil pressed a button to turn on the frequency. “cecil..” you frowned, talking a step towards him. 

“no, y/n. he needs to learn that his ego won’t get him anywhere. he could turn into his father any moment, and we– the entire planet would be defenseless.” he said, turning it off as he turned to you. “that doesn’t mean you have to hurt him! he hasn’t hurt anybody!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms out. 

while the two of you were arguing, mark made his escape. he left the white room and flew through the ceiling of the pentagon, cecil telling donald to tail mark and take him down before he was out of range. if there was one, at least. you were left standing in the white room with reanimen surrounding you, not knowing what to do. if cecil didn't trust mark, did he trust you? he already had his engineering team create earplugs that would block out your scream if needed, so were you really in the same boat as them, or were you in the same boat as mark.

stumbling out of the room, you made your way through the halls of the pentagon. there were two things you needed to do. get out of here, and find mark so you could apologize. maybe it was time you let go of cecil, anyway.

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

JUST ONE MORE TEAR TO CRY AU

(I saw a new lantern core and was, like yes sorrow sounds like Tim lol.)   Tim Drake becomes a lantern, not just any lantern, a sorrow lantern. To save Bruce, he sacrificed everything, and he lost Robin. He knew deep down this would be his last mission as a red robin, as a robin, maybe even a bat. The league didn’t believe him. He tried to hand the USB with everything they pushed it away, saying he needed help.   “No please.” He begged, but they only gave him pity, and he couldn’t do this without them. He doesn’t have the power, nor does he have the resources. He leaves more like escapes, and now he is sitting in an old abandoned warehouse not knowing what to do everything he did seemed pointless, hopeless he couldn’t do his job and save Batman, save Bruce and he lost Superboy, impulse he couldn’t even say their names, everything was taken from him everything he worked hard for and this USB with everything to prove Bruce is alive and how to rescue him wasn’t even looked at.   His tears fall soundlessly as he grapples with frustration and a deepening sorrow over at the thought of how close he was to saving Bruce, only to be startled by his father’s ring he kept on him to remind him of his failure to save his father, which begins to steam. The steam begins to expand filling up the room and when it dissipates, his father's ring is now on his finger, transformed into a grey colour, he stares down in confusion but something else is also all he can feel is deep sorrow not only that his outfit has changed its completely grey and when he reaches for his face; it feels as if covered. It doesn’t take him long to figure out he must be in some type of lantern situation, but he’s never seen a lantern ring like this and he’s pretty certain rings come to their holders, not made by them. Silent tears stream down his face underneath the bandana, as he stares at the USB all he can think of is everything that’s ever made him sad it’s so painful, he’s clutching his chest but he can’t give up he has to get it to the only person who will actually look at it and make sure the league looks at it too. So he flies, he flies into the air. It should be so thrilling, but it’s not. He has the USB in hand and makes his way to the warehouse. He knows he will be in. Unfortunately, he’s not here at the. Moment that’s okay, he floats down and places it on the desk before hearing the cocking of a gun and a familiar voice yell at him. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my warehouse?”   Tim turns around slowly. It takes a moment for Jason to realise who it is standing in front of him. “Tim?” He asks in disbelief, in doubt. He tries to go towards him, but before he can, Tim just floats up and away. He can hear Jason call his name sounding panicked.   (After Jason reviews the USB, makes the league look at it, and makes sure to retrieve the tape from when Tim was in the warehouse before showing Dick who is currently Batman as well as Alfred, bringing up his concerns to the pair. It temp put on the back burner when Bruce is back not wanting to worry the man. Oh also, in this AU Tim’s gonna be the first sorrow lantern. Oh and I promise Im gonna start writing fics instead of just little drabbles of AU lol so questions for any AU or ideas send them my way.)   ALSO NOT EDITED AGAIN.

[popcornforone]

ARE YOU NOT EDUCATED?!

A Mr Ben Fan Fic (with some surprises)

At the time of writing this after creating & editing a first draft of this fic, it’s just gone past midnight into Monday 24th March. The last week we were spoilt for Pedro content & when we get our man looking that good for so many days it’s hard to stop the creative juices going. So yesterday after I posted something on Saturday which took off, I decided to write a fic about it, & well once again Mr Ben is our suffering man for this.

Synopsis:- after the release of Gladiator 2 it’s all the kids at school can talk about so Ben asks you to come & sit in on one of his enthusiastic classes

Word count:- 8200

Warnings:-DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex 69, size mentioned, lots of innuendo, swearing, colleagues to lovers, unrequited love, age gap, alluding to more sex, teasing, fantasy’s, role play.

Thanks as always for stopping by & having a read peoples. It’s always really appreciated that you read these. Yea I know I was meant to slow down with the fics but I just can’t stop writing at the moment.

Monday second period, your free lesson, no kids, no interruptions, time to play catch up. You were halfway through grading a stack of essays when a familiar, slightly exasperated voice broke your concentration.

“Please tell me you’re free third period on Wednesday.” You glanced up from your desk to see Mr. Ben standing in your doorway, leaning against the frame with the world-weary look of a man who had just fought a long & exhausting battle except, instead of a battlefield, it was probably the high school hallway. His dark curls were slightly disheveled, & he was gripping his flask probably filled with strong coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Uh…” You hesitated, already sensing whatever he was about to ask would be a lot. “Why?”

He sighed & stepped fully into the room, rubbing a hand down his face. “I need another teacher to monitor my lesson because my students have lost their minds. Every single one of them has apparently watched Gladiator 2 this weekend at the cinema, which, by the way, they are not old enough to see they are underage, & now they’re convinced they’re living in ancient Rome.”

You bite back a laugh. “Oh no.” You hadn’t had this issue yet, maybe your students knew to not bring it up with you. Where as they all see Ben as a much more fun teacher who would have probably seen the film this weekend. He had, you’d actually gone with him & a couple of other friends as a large group to see it. You did sit next to Ben & share popcorn with him while you fawned over Paul & Pedro on the big screen.

“Oh yes,” he said, dropping dramatically into the chair across from your desk. “I tried to start a lesson on the fall of the Republic, thinking it would at least make them read, & one of them actually stood up and shouted, ‘The Senate is corrupt!’”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. “That’s… impressive?”

“It’s insufferable.” He gestured vaguely, looking at you like he was already regretting every life choice that had led him here. “They keep calling me ‘General,’ they refuse to sit unless it’s in some kind of weird, dramatic gladiator pose, & one kid actually tried to fight another kid with a ruler because he said he ‘had to earn his freedom.’”

At that, you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “Okay, yeah. That’s a disaster.”

“Exactly!” He pointed at you like you finally got it. “So now I need backup. Someone to keep them from forming an actual underground fighting ring while I try to salvage my lesson.” He tilted his head slightly, giving you an exaggerated pleading look. “Please? For the good of the Republic?” Those eyes love to be big & pleading. So brown. So smouldering.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Fine. I’ll help.”

Ben let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Thank you. You are a true ally to Rome.” He winked.

You smirked. “Just promise me you’re not going to encourage them.” There was a pause. A very suspicious pause.

“…Define ‘encourage.’”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Ben.”

He stood there with a sheepish look, already backing toward the door. “See you Wednesday!” With his coffee in hand he made his exit, leaving you with the distinct feeling that whatever was about to happen in his classroom later this week was going to be absolutely unhinged.

You weren’t trying to look nice today. Not exactly. It’s just that… well, if you were going to spend a whole period sitting in the back of Ben’s classroom, watching him flail through whatever chaos his students had planned, there was no harm in making sure you looked presentable. So what if you spent an extra few minutes on your hair? Or picked a shirt that you knew looked good on you? That was just… professionalism. Totally normal. Absolutely not because of the way Mr. Ben somehow managed to make a button-down & rolled-up sleeves look ridiculously attractive every single day.

Nope. Not at all.

By the time third period rolled around, you were a nervous ball of energy for lots of reasons. You were already seated at the back of his classroom, casually checking your phone as you waited for him to arrive. The desks were empty for now, but you could practically feel the energy that was about to hit. Those kids were going to walk in like they were entering the Colosseum, & you were just here to keep them from actually killing each other & help Ben out in anyway you could.

Then, the door opened. In walked Ben. In a tunic!

Not just any tunic, a white Roman-style tunic with a fitted waist, draped fabric, & a damn leather strap slung over one shoulder like he’d just stepped off the set of the movie. Like he was actually Pedro Pascal.

Your brain short-circuited. He was still wearing his usual work shoes, & he had a coffee in one hand, but somehow, he still looked like he belonged on an ancient battlefield instead of a public high school classroom. Your fingers tightened around your phone as you stared, way too hard, at the ridiculous yet unfairly good-looking sight in front of you. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Ben, completely oblivious to the effect he was having, blew out a breath & ran a hand through his dark curls. “Okay, before you say anything, just know that I tried to resist.”

You blinked, mouth slightly open. “Resist… what, exactly?”

He motioned vaguely at himself. “This. The whole… outfit.” Your brain was still buffering. “But then,” he continued, sighing dramatically, “I realized that if I don’t lean into it, they’re just going to push harder. So, I figured, fine. Let’s embrace the chaos. If they want a gladiator, I’ll give them a gladiator.”

Oh, you were so in trouble. You’ve had a thing for Ben for a while but this was now unlocking a fantasy you didn’t know you had. The white tunic, the knees on display, his hair all messy. It was going to make you a hot mess especially if he was going to use his strict teacher voice at the kids, that always made something brew inside your loins.

You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay even. “Uh-huh. & you think this is going to help?” Ben shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee like he wasn’t currently dressed like every history nerd’s fantasy.

“Honestly? I have no idea. But if we’re going down, we’re going down in style.”

You nodded slowly, crossing your legs to keep yourself from fidgeting. “Right. Totally. Very… strategic of you.”

He shot you a grin. “Glad you think so. You ready?”

Absolutely not. But before you could respond, the first wave of students started trickling in, & as soon as they saw him, all hell broke loose.

“GENERAL BENEDICTUS HAS ARRIVED!” One of them screeched, the madness began.

Ben barely had time to set his coffee down before the classroom erupted into full-blown hysteria.

“GENERAL BENEDICTUS HAS ARRIVED! Roma! Roma! Roma!”

Half the class immediately slammed their fists over their hearts in some kind of dramatic salute, while the other half started chanting. Ben sighed, rubbing his temples like a man who had seen too much.

“Guys, we talked about this. No cult-like behavior before noon.”

You, meanwhile, were still recovering from the sheer visual impact of him in that tunic, so you barely managed to stifle a laugh. A group of students suddenly realised you were there. Your little chuckle instantly recognisable. A few whispers started going around.

“Miss is in awe of your presence, General,” one of them announced solemnly.

You immediately choked on air. “That is not what’s happening, I’m merely here to observe” not that any child really paid attention to that statement. Neither did Ben, the absolute menace, he grinned as he addressed you staying in character.

“You hear that? You’re in awe.”

You shot him a sharp look, refusing to acknowledge the warmth creeping up your neck. “I’m in awe of how you still have a job.” That only made him laugh as he reached for his glasses, sliding them on in one smooth motion before ruffling his curls, because apparently, he needed to make this harder for you. Those thick frames make you feel so unnecessary. You swore he did it just to be annoying. Or worse, just to test you. Because now, with the slightly messy hair & those glasses slipping down his nose, he looked less like a ridiculous history teacher playing dress-up & more like some unfairly attractive historian who had just come back from excavating Pompeii. It was too much. You needed help. You needed divine intervention. You needed to not think about attractive mr ben is normally let alone right now.

But instead, you’ve got a classroom of unruly students, whispering like this was some kind of romance subplot in their imaginary Roman drama.

One kid leaned over to another and muttered, “The Empress is struggling to contain her feelings.”

Ben clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s enough. Everyone focus, it’s time to learn.” Damn that strict voice made the heat rise even more.

Silence. Blank stares. One kid yawned. Another pulled out their phone. Ben sighed. “Oh, so now you’re quiet?”

One of the students shrugged. “It’s just, you know… we were expecting something a little more…” He gestured vaguely. “Inspirational.”

Ben arched an eyebrow. “You want inspiration?”

“Yeah! Like, something that moves us. Like Maximus or Lucius did.”

A slow, devious smirk crept across Ben’s face. without warning, he turned, swept his arm dramatically across the room & launched into a deep, commanding voice:

“What we do in life… echoes in eternity.”

You are trying so hard to play a poker face but it’s failing. This is not good for your own imagination.

The class lost their minds. Gasps. Cheering. Someone actually stood up & yelled, “HONOUR TO GENERAL BENEDICTUS!”

You? You just sat there, gripping your chair so tightly your knuckles went white, because of course the one time you had to monitor his class was the day he decided to be the most attractive man on Earth. Ben had no idea of the effect he was having on you.

The classroom was buzzing. The students were practically vibrating with excitement, fully buying into whatever delusions of grandeur General Benedictus had inflicted upon them. Ben, clearly thriving on the attention, paced at the front of the room like he was about to lead an army into battle. You, meanwhile, were still trying to recover from that damn what we do in life echoes in eternity moment. You were not recovering well.

“Alright, soldiers of Rome,” Ben called out, clapping his hands together. “Since you all think you’re gladiators now, let’s see if you’ve actually learned anything.”

Once again Silence. The students, so loud just a second ago, suddenly looked anywhere but at him, textbook signs of kids who definitely didn’t do the assigned reading. Ben let out a long, dramatic sigh. Then, with a slow turn & a sharp flick of his wrist, he pointed straight at them.

“ARE YOU NOT EDUCATED?”

The students erupted in laughter. Someone pounded their desk. Another kid actually fell out of their chair. This was the most chaotic & most engaged you had ever seen a class.

But You on the inside, You were so done.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your fingers to your temples. Ben just smirked. Smirked! Like he knew exactly what he was doing & was loving every second of it. If he wanted to be that dramatic, then he’d better start actually teaching something.

“So,” he continued, rolling his shoulders back. Such big broad shoulders that you had tried to rest your head on in the cinema when this outfit was on the screen almost dropping hints to him that he could be your general “Let’s try this again. Who can tell me what the phrase strength & honor meant in the context of Roman military culture?”

Silence. More averted gazes. You sighed. Classic kids.

Ben, still ever the optimist, scanned the room, waiting for someone to answer. When no one did, he huffed & turned toward you.

“My lady?”

Your brain crashed.

Like, full system shutdown. Because first of all… my lady?!

Second of all, he had said it so smoothly, like it was the most normal thing in the world, like it wasn’t a one-way ticket to your complete& total flustered demise. Like he had been Acacius trying to seduce his wife in the film. Heat flooded your face instantly. You were absolutely sure, that you had just turned the exact shade of a ripe tomato.

“W-what?” you croaked, barely processing the question.

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at your sudden inability to function. “Strength & honor. What did it mean?”

Oh. Right. The actual lesson. You’d completely forgotten this was actually happening.

You cleared your throat, trying to will yourself back to sanity. “Uh, it was a motto used by Roman soldiers. It represented their loyalty to Rome & their personal code of ethics, courage, discipline, self-sacrifice.”

Ben grinned, snapping his fingers. “Exactly! See? At least someone did the reading.”

The students barely reacted, still caught up in the fact that their history teacher had just called you my lady.

You could feel them staring at you. Whispering. Giggling. Just to make it worse, one kid whispered, “The General & his Empress… a forbidden love.” But it was near you & loud enough that you could hear it.

You wanted to die.Ben, oblivious as ever, just sighed dramatically. “Can we please focus?”You were never going to live this down.

Ben then actually started teaching, everything still chaotic but getting calmer. A bit like the senate in Rome. You were so close to regaining control of yourself. Sure, you were still vaguely overheating from the my lady incident, but at least Ben had moved on. At least the students were somewhat engaged again.

“Alright, let’s talk about the structure of a Roman legion. Who can tell me how it was organized?” Ben asked the class. Dead silence. The students just stared at him, their newfound obsession with gladiators clearly not extending to actual military formations. Ben groaned. “Seriously? Nothing?”Still nothing.

You sighed, pushing back your chair as you stood up. “Okay, come on. You all know at least something about this.” The moment you moved to the front of the classroom, the energy shifted. You had co taught in the past but usually he was in a blue shirt & you hadn’t put as much effort into your look as you had today.

A low murmur ran through the students. Smirks. Whispering. Your stomach dropped. You had just hand-delivered them a golden opportunity to make things worse.

Ben, still completely unaware, just gestured toward you. “See? She believes in you. Show her that her faith is not misplaced.”

One of the kids leaned forward, grinning. “Ohhh, she believes in you, General.”

A chorus of ooohs swept through the room.You froze.

Ben turned to you, frowning in confusion. “Wait, what?”

More snickers. Another kid stage-whispered, “Our Empress stands beside her General at last.” You could feel your soul leaving your body. It’s hard enough to get kids to respect you at school but now, this would spread like the plague.

Ben blinked at the class, then looked back at you. Really looked at you. & after many years of being colleagues & friends finally, it happened. You saw the exact moment realization dawned on his face. The slightly widened eyes. The way his breath hitched just barely. The slow, dawning comprehension that maybe, just maybe, this was affecting you a little more than it should. Your lips parted slightly, your whole body tense, praying he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, being Ben, the hapless fool he is, made it worse. His mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“Oh,” he said, voice dropping just enough to be dangerous. “I see.”

No, you don’t see anything, shut up shut up shut up.

Before you could form a single coherent thought, he turned back to the class, hands on his hips like he was thoroughly enjoying this. “Alright, settle down,” he said, his usual easy confidence returning. “The Empress & I are here to teach, not provide entertainment.”

Laughter. Absolute chaos. Someone actually clapped. You were done. Absolutely, completely done. worst of all? Ben knew it now. You could see the amusement in his stupidly handsome face. The awareness. You were so screwed.

Eventually bell finally rang, cutting through the chaos like a lifeline. You had survived just. Ben was in his element in lots of ways. Students grabbed their things, still whispering & giggling as they filed out. One of them actually had the nerve to pause by the door, hand over their heart, & declare, “Strength & honour, General. & … best of luck with your Empress.”

Ben barely held back a laugh. “Out.” You said sternly. The kid grinned & bolted before you could put them in detention for sassiness. just like that, the classroom was empty. Except for you & him. You exhaled, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Well. That was…”

Ben leaned against his desk, smirking. “Educational?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “I was going to say insufferable. But sure. Let’s go with educational.”

He chuckled, arms folding over his chest, the fabric of that damn tunic pulling across his broad manly shoulders in a way that was deeply unfair.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head at you. “You survived.”

“Barely.” You scoffed. You turned to grab your things, determined to get out of this room before your body temperature spiked again. But then, because the universe clearly hated you, Ben spoke again.

“You know,” he mused, “for someone who came here to keep my class in order, you seemed pretty entertained.” You froze. Slowly, so slowly, you turned back to him, carefully schooling your face into neutrality.

“I was entertained,” you admitted, tilting your head. “Your theatrics were… impressive.”

Ben let out a low, amused hum. “Uh-huh.” He was looking at you now, not just with the usual casual charm, but with something… else. Something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could think too hard about it, you added, because clearly, you hadn’t suffered enough yet:

“Plus, you did look the part.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Silence. Tension that the sharpest Roman blade would find hard to cut. Ben’s eyebrows lifted slightly, that slow smirk returning like he knew exactly what you meant.

“Oh?”

Oh no. Abort. Abort! Your brain thinks but your heart is leaping with joy.

“I mean…”You waved vaguely at his tunic, grasping for literally any escape. “The outfit. It worked.” Again the wrong but right thing to say. Ben watched you, eyes flicking over your face, his smirk deepening.something had shifted. The teasing was still there, but underneath it, there was something quieter. Something sharper. Like he was actually seeing you. For the first time today, maybe for the first time ever, you weren’t sure you could handle it. Your own little crush no one knew about had been fine for you to secretly have on Ben but now you could see it his eyes… he knew.

You cleared your throat, grabbing your bag. “Anyway, I should go.” Ben was still watching you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. As you reached the door, he called out,his voice lower, softer:

“You really think I looked the part?” You didn’t dare turn around. Instead, you just threw a look over your shoulder, as casually as possible:

“Don’t let it go to your head, General.”

“Of course not…” there was a slight pause before you left & then you heard him say those two words “…my lady”

You left quickly back to your own class room, before he could see the ridiculous, completely flustered smile that had taken over your face.

You had almost recovered. Almost. How you taught period four you had no idea at all but you got through it. You were desperately trying to focus on your actual job, shoving any & all thoughts of General Benedictus out of your mind, & those rather stunning knees.

Ben was already in the teachers’ lounge when you walked in at lunch time, back in his usual teaching look, blue shirt lose tie. Not your favourite though he only wears that on parents evening.

Because the universe loved to torment you today, he was mid-conversation with another staff member, loudly recounting his lesson. You hesitated at the door, debating if you should just turn around & starve, but it was too late. You were already here. You could do this. You’d just grab your lunch, not make eye contact, & pretend like Ben hadn’t spent an entire period unknowingly ruining your life. Easy… or so you think.

You headed straight for the fridge, determined to keep your head down, however Ben’s smooth voice carried across the room. Always music to your ears.

“I mean, I knew they’d be excited about Gladiator 2,” he was saying, “but I did not expect full-scale reenactments.”

The other teacher, a geography guy from down the hall chuckled. “Yeah, I heard one of the kids say something about General Benedictus?”

Ben groaned. “Oh, that.”You stiffened, pretending to be very interested in your lunchbox. “They started calling me that the second I walked in,” Ben continued. “I figured if I didn’t lean into it, they’d only get worse.”

The other teacher laughed. “Well, they’re definitely invested. I overheard a couple of them still talking about it after class.”

Ben smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah? What were they saying?” Your heart started to race.

The geography teacher grinned, grabbing his coffee. “Something about ‘the General and his lady.’” You choked on absolutely nothing. Ben froze. You both knew by the end of the day the whole highs school would know. You are both doomed.

The other teacher frowned, looking over, not putting two & two together . “You okay?”

You cleared your throat, way too quickly. “Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!” Ben turned his head toward you so fast you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash. Slowly, his lips curled into a smirk. The menace of the man.

“Oh,” he said, voice way too entertained. “So you did hear all that.” You hated him. But you also wanted him.

Desperately trying to play it cool, you shrugged & grabbed your drink. “Hard not to, considering you’re basically broadcasting it to the entire room.”

Ben hummed, still smirking. “Huh. & here I thought you weren’t that entertained by my theatrics.”

Any bit of resolve & restrain from you was falling, crumbling like the Roman Empire.

The geography teacher, completely oblivious to the war happening between you two, just laughed. “Man, those kids are gonna be talking about this for weeks.”

Ben shot you one last look, smug, amused, interested, before turning back to him. “Yeah,” he said, lips quirking. “Something tells me this isn’t over.” You practically sprinted out of the room with your lunch. Because, judging by the way Ben had just looked at you, you had a very bad feeling he was absolutely right. There was nothing you could do to stop this plague of the general & his empress being the school gossip.

You barely managed to hold yourself together until you were out of the teachers’ lounge. The second the door swung shut behind you, you let out a sharp, frustrated breath. You didn’t know your heart could pump that hard & fast. Every nerve on edge. You stormed down the hallway, gripping your lunch like it had personally offended you. You weren’t even thinking about where you were going, just that you needed out. Away from the smirking menace that was Ben. Away from the way he’d looked at you, like he was considering something he never had before.

Your feet carried you straight to his classroom. Of course they did. It was auto pilot. On Wednesdays you & Ben always have a little catch up at lunch in his class before the afternoon lessons. You shoved the door open, dropped your lunch on a desk, & pressed your hands against the cool surface, trying to breathe. You needed a minute. Just one minute to collect yourself. To not think of that smug handsome face.

The door swung open behind you.

You knew who it was before he even spoke.

“Wow,” Ben said, voice far too amused as he leaned against the doorframe. “Didn’t realize my classroom was your personal melodrama retreat.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Oh god, just leave it for 5 minutes please”

Ben stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. You felt him approach before you even turned.

“I mean, you did run out of there pretty fast,” he continued, his tone light but aware. “Almost like you were trying to avoid something.”

You whipped around, pointing at him. “Oh, don’t you dare…”

He raised his hands in mock innocence. “What? I’m just making an observation.”

You scoffed, grabbed you lunch & went to walk past him to head to anywhere he wouldn’t be. But Ben, of course, moved with you. He turned just enough to stay in your space, his smirk deepening as he watched you try to put distance between you.

“C’mon,” he drawled, voice dangerously smooth. “Tell me the truth. You were a little entertained today.” He was close enough you could hear his voice reverberate. Sounding so soothing. Ben leaned in slightly. “Also…” His voice dropped just a bit. Just enough to really ruin you. “You did say I looked the part.”

You whirled on him, eyes flashing. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.” The tension was suffocating now.

Something tight & hot crackled in the space between you, heavy enough to steal your breath. You swallowed hard, pulse hammering as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “You…” Your voice came out shakier than intended. “You are the most insufferable man I have ever met.” Ben tilted his head, studying you. His smirk faltered for just a second. His eyes flicked to your lips. that was when you knew. He wasn’t just teasing anymore. He felt more .He wanted you flustered. He wanted this tension. He wanted you.

Your breath hitched.

Ben exhaled slowly, his voice turning low—thoughtful.

“…Huh.”

You swallowed. “What?”

Ben’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip, his gaze burning now. “Just thinking,” he murmured. “Maybe the kids were onto something.”Your stomach flipped. Because suddenly, you were the one being studied. You were the one making him pause.The tension was too much.You needed to get out.

Now!

Without another word, you spun on your heel, practically running for the door. Ben didn’t stop you. But as you yanked the door open, his voice followed you, soft, teasing, and way too damn smug.

“Speak later, my lady.” You slammed the door shut behind you. Ben on the other side of the door just smiled. Feeling his own butterflies. Wondering how his heart had never felt this way about you before.

You had never been so happy to see the end of the school day. Back home, no kids, no gossip, no Ben or General Benedictus. You had done everything in your power to shake off the day. You’d taken a shower. You’d put on comfy pajamas. You’d made tea, curled up on your couch, & sworn to yourself that you weren’t going to think about him.

Yet Here you were, staring at your phone. Almost like you were manifesting it as you opened your messages, right there, was his name on your screen. New message to read.

Ben: So. About today.

You blinked.Oh, hell no.

You couldnt help it though. You were typing back before you could stop yourself.

You: No.

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Ben: What do you mean, “no”???

You groaned, flopping back against your couch. Of course he was doing this. Of course he wasn’t letting it go.

Another message popped up.

Ben: C’mon, admit it. You had fun today.

You hesitated.Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, torn between ignoring him &…well …Being honest. Because you had fun. You did. You always did with him. Even when he was an idiot. He was your friend, your idiot & you wanted him to be more than a friend. Even when he was making you want to tear your hair out. You needed him more than air especially, when he was making your stomach flip with nothing but a smirk a

& a well-placed my lady. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head before finally typing back.

You: It was tolerable.

Ben’s reply was instant.

Ben: Tolerable?? Wow. Okay. I see how it is.

You smirked, suddenly very pleased with yourself.

You: Glad we’re on the same page.

A pause. Three dots… & then

Ben: …And what page is that, exactly?

Your breath hitched. Because that… that was flirting. The menace. The smug handsome menace. You bit your lip, heart hammering as you stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to respond

…Another message.

Ben: Because personally, I think we’re on a very interesting page.

You froze.Your pulse roared.Oh.Oh. Not that he could see you getting flustered, but you felt like he could. Ben was not just teasing anymore. He was doing this on purpose. Your stomach flipped, for a split second, you considered throwing your phone across the room, changing your number & running away. But that was to irrational. Instead, you took a steadying breath &typed back, pulse racing.

You: And what kind of page would that be, General?

This time, his reply took a little longer. when it finally appeared, your entire body burned.

Ben: Wouldn’t you like to know, my lady?

Oh, you were so in trouble.

You had barely slept. Which was entirely Ben’s fault. When you did eventually get some

Sleep, your dreams were filled with him wearing that costume, smiling like the cat with all the cream & also adjusting his glasses in the sexiest way. After that conversation last night, especially the teasing, the my lady, you had spent hours replaying every little moment from yesterday, overthinking everything.

Now on Thursday you were sitting at your desk, nursing a coffee like it was the only thing keeping you alive, desperately trying to pretend like you weren’t waiting for him to show up. Because of course he was going to show up. He was Ben. Even without his information he liked to pop in each morning to see how his friend was… now the tension & unspoken words meant more than friends was very much on the cards. when the door finally opened, & he stepped inside you felt the flutter of your heart. Yeah. You were so screwed. Because Ben wasn’t just Ben today. He was smug Ben. Ben with a purpose. & this Ben, well he was wearing your favorite tie.

You froze. It wasn’t parents evening, this was a deliberate choice for you… for his empress eyes only. Ben smirked, strolling in with zero shame, his hands tucked in his pockets like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Morning,” he said casually. God that voice was so enchanting. Your eyes flicked to the tie. Then back to his way too pleased face.

“You’re wearing that on purpose,” you accused.

Ben tilted his head, all faux innocence. “Wearing what?”

You glared. “The tie.”

Ben glanced down at himself like he’d just now noticed. “Oh. Huh. I guess I am.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well it’s still a nice tie” he shrugged at your words. “your impossible somethings you know that”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer. “You said that yesterday too. Starting to think it’s your pet name for me.”

Your face burned. Like you had been a naughty student being told off by her favourite teacher.

Before you could snap at him, he pulled something from behind his back, a coffee. Your favorite coffee. He placed it on your desk with a smirk. “Peace offering.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “Why?”

Ben shrugged, his voice dipping into something softer,something almost sincere.

“Because I was kind of an ass yesterday, it was kinda fun though,” he admitted. “& because…” His lips twitched. “I don’t want my lady holding a grudge.”

You hated how much that stupid nickname made your stomach flip. You sighed, glancing at the coffee. “You’re so lucky I need caffeine.”

Ben chuckled. “I know.”

Yours in your mug had gone cold so because you were weak, you took a sip. It was so good. You let out a little moan, this was when Ben moved closer. Close enough that the air shifted. Close enough that you could smell him, his stupid cologne, the faint scent of coffee on his breath. Close enough that your heart stumbled, because suddenly, it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. It felt like something else. Something bigger. Something dangerous. Something desired.

You swallowed hard, setting the cup down with slightly shaky hands. “You should…”You cleared your throat your voice trembling & betraying you. “You should go before class starts.” Ben didn’t move. His gaze flicked down, to your lips, which you didn’t realise were pouting.Then back up. Slow. Intentional. & so very hot. Your breath hitched.

finally, Ben exhaled, stepping back with a knowing smirk.”See you later, my lady.”

He left you staring as he walked out, trying to comprehend its all, gripping your desk, completely ruined.

The day had been torture. Ever since Ben waltzed into your classroom that morning, smirking, wearing that tie, giving you your coffee, he’d been everywhere. Usually this is nice but after the recent developments of the last couple of days this was suddenly impossible. Walking past your door at just the right moment. Flashing you a look during lunch. Brushing just a little too close in the hallway. Every single time, it sent your brain straight into dangerously unprofessional territory. With that & kids from all year groups asking you about his infamous history lesson, You’d barely made it through the day.

Just before the final bell, you found yourself back in his classroom. Alone. The excuse had been flimsy at best, something about checking on a lesson plan, making sure tomorrow’s class was set, but the truth? You had caved. Because avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. Neither was pretending you didn’t want him just as badly as he wanted you.

You stood near his desk, fingers tapping against the edge, when the door opened behind you. You didn’t even have to turn around. You knew who it was.

Ben’s voice was low, teasing. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You let out a sharp breath, turning to face him. “You are”

“I know,” he smirked. “Impossible.” You glared, but your own eyes danced at him betraying you. Ben took another step closer. “Admit it,” he murmured, tilting his head. “You’ve been thinking about it all day.”

You swallowed. “Thinking about what?”

Ben’s gaze dropped, to your lips. Your stomach flipped.

“This,” he murmured.

His large hand cupped your face, your eyes locked, warmth filled you veins as your lips parted & then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was everything he had been holding back. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him, & god, he kissed like he meant it. Like he had been dying to do this. Like he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Your fingers curled into his shirt, your body melting into him, holy hell…this hot & it was happening. After all the teasing. After all the tension. It was bloody happening.

Crash!

The door swung open. A chorus of outrageous teenage gasps filled the room.

“Ohhh my god!”

“Called it! Called it!”

“THE GENERAL & HIS LADY.”

You ripped yourself away from Ben, mortified, while he just groaned, rubbing his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. You turned to face the students, who were, at this point, losing their minds.

One of them dramatically clutched their chest. “Sir, I feel betrayed.”

Another wagged their finger at you both. “So that’s why she was in the back of the class yesterday, she wasn’t just observing; she was admiring.”

Ben let out a deep sigh. “Alright, that’s enough. You all have classes to get to” It did nothing.

One kid just grinned at you. “Miss, was the lesson that entertaining?”You wanted to die.

Ben turned to you, clearly biting back a smile. “You did say you were entertained.” You digged him in the ribs, Hard.

The kids absolutely lost it, Ben just laughed, because now, neither of you had any chance of pretending this wasn’t real. You didn’t want to. You were ecstatic Ben felt the same way as you.

Some of the kids dispersed & left the door & you saw this as your moment to leave too. You had made it maybe three steps out of Ben’s classroom before a very firm hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you right back inside.

The door now shut. Just you & your man. The kids all off to their lessons their little display they had witnessed now private.

Ben wasted no time & pressed up against the desk, staring up at a very smug, very smirking Ben. You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way your entire body thrummed at the closeness.

“Running away?” he asked, voice way too amused.

You glared. “You’re insufferable.”

Ben just hummed. “& yet, here you are.”

Your pulse roared. Because he was right. You were here. & you weren’t running. Not anymore.

“I’ve always been here Ben, it’s always been you” you run your hand through his hair.

Ben studied you, his smirk softening just a bit.

“So,” he murmured, voice dipping into something dangerous, “are we going to talk about what just happened?” You swallowed hard.

“Well,” you managed, trying to sound casual, “we did just get caught making out in your classroom, so…” you face can’t hide your delight.

Ben groaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You grinned. “Oh, we will never be allowed to live this down.”

His eyes flicked open, burning now. “That so?”

Your stomach flipped. “Mhm.”

Ben tilted his head, watching you closely. “Y’know,” he mused, voice dropping just enough to ruin you, “I actually kept the costume.”Your breath hitched. Oh, that was dangerous information. Your lips parted slightly, your brain immediately spiraling into places it shouldn’t…

Ben noticed. He always notices even when he thought he didn’t.

His smirk deepened. “Oh, you like that, huh?”You refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But your face, the way it burned, the way your gaze flickered just slightly, betrayed you.

Ben grinned. “Wow,” he teased, “& here I thought you were all prim and proper”

“I am into roleplay,” you cut in flatly, surprising even yourself. Ben froze. You saw it, the slight stumble, the way his pupils dilated. His tongue gliding over his bottom lip.

“Ohhh,” he murmured, stepping closer—too close. “You’re going to be so much fun.” Your breath caught.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in slightly, just enough to whisper, “Isn’t that right, Benedictus ?” Ben froze solid. For the first time all day, he was the one caught off guard. His jaw tensed. His fingers twitched against your hip. His entire body stilled as something hotter, something darker, flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, you were the one in control.

Ben inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking over your face. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, my lady.”

You smirked. “Am I?”

Ben exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You have no idea what you just started.”Your heart pounded. Then just as he leaned in, just as you swore he was about to ruin you completely.

A knock.

You both jumped back as the door creaked open slightly.

“Uh, sir?”

You turned, only to see one of the students from earlier, barely holding back a shit-eating grin.

“We forgot our books,” they said, clearly lying, their eyes flicking between the two of you.

Ben sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

The student just smirked. “You’re welcome.” They bolted, laughing way too hard as they ran down the hall. Ben groaned. You just grinned, grabbing your bag & heading for the door. But just before you stepped out, you leaned in one last time, letting your lips brush his ear.

“Strength & honor, Benedictus .” Leaving Ben standing there, stunned, breathless, & completely ruined. This was so not over. Not by a long shot.

One thing lead to another & it was soon Friday night. You were sat on Ben sofa, an occurrence that happened from time to time as friends. It’s usually at this time in the evening you either ask for a pillow & blanket so you can crash at his or he puts the two of you in a uber so he can make sure you get back to yours safely before taking the exact same uber back to his. He was always a gentleman to his lady, he had never truly realised it until earlier in the week.

What at the start of the week had been a friendship had tonight ended up with the two of you at a nice steak house, longing glances over wine, hand strokes, moments where silence was all the was needed, & kisses tasting better then the delicious meal you had eaten. This was more than friends. You sat in the sofa trembling a little, wondering where Ben was he had been gone a while. Had he gone to bed & forgotten about you sat on his sofa?

“My lady” you hear bounce off the walls breaking the silence.

“My gen…” you don’t complete the sentence as you turn your head to his direction. The room is now filled with your laughter. There he is. Back in his Roman costume. The white glistening, the cape swishing, the hair messed up. He’s showing off his broad shoulders & Tiny waist. Those knees, oooh they made your own go weak. He look’s ridiculous & exquisite at the same time. The smirk on his face twitching. Clearly he is glad this has an impression on you.

“Tell me, if we were the general & his wife, how would I court you?” He asks. “Would I bring you flowers, would I bring you wine, would…”

“Your favourite tie, bringing me coffee & your sexy glasses is all I’ve ever needed Benedictus” you interrupt & slowly get off the sofa making your way across to him. You hesitate at first to touch him but then see the want in his eyes so your hands glide over his shoulder. You let out a deep sigh, inhaling his scent. Always arousing.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“cos your much older & way out of my league”

You say looking down stroking the soft material. He then grabs under your chin & lifts it. The eye contact intense, his words from the soul.

“I may be slow at picking up signs, but if you’d let me know much sooner, we could have been addressing this along time ago” his thumb trails over your lips. You stand on your top toes to make sure those lips connect with his. Deep, powerful & emotional, like this kiss has been built up for years, which in your head it has. His hands were caressing your neck as the kiss got steamier before one of them slid to your back & slowly started work on the zip on your dress.

“Maybe this needs to happen somewhere more grand for a general” you say, breathy already. Radiating arousal at his touch as the zip reaches your lower back.

“Only the best for my lady” he says before he scoops you up into his arms & carry’s you to the bed you have long dream or of occupying.

Ben lays you down gently on the bed, his hands never leaving your body, as if afraid this might all vanish if he let go. You reach up, fingers immediately finding the soft folds of his cape, tugging at it slowly until it slips from his shoulders & you discard it onto the floor. Your eyes trail over him, the absurdity of the costume, the way he somehow manages to make it sexy. The chest plate is next, & as you unclip it, your knuckles brush against warm skin & tense muscle beneath. Ben watches you, breath heavy, lips parted, not saying a word. His gaze is hungry. Focused. Mush like a general about to conquer what’s rightfully his.

“Tell me,” you whisper as you reach for the fabric at his waist, “did they make underwear in ancient Rome?”

Ben huffs a soft laugh, tilting your chin with his finger. “For you? I’m going historically accurate.” & sure enough, when the final layer drops, he’s gloriously, completely bare beneath.

Your breath catches. You’ve seen him before, glimpses, tight shirts, damp post gym moments, but nothing prepared you for this. He’s all power & heat & perfectly ruined restraint, & somehow, still smirking like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You sit up, sliding your dress off your shoulders & letting it pool around your waist before you shimmy it the rest of the way down. You’re in your underwear, but not for long. Ben takes over, unclasping your bra with skillful fingers before tossing it aside. He kisses down your shoulder, your collarbone, reverent, teasing, & hot as sin.

“Now,” he says lowly, voice rough & dark against your ear. “How do you want this?” Its commanding. He’s into this.

You bite your lip, emboldened by the haze between you. “I want to taste you.”

Ben’s breath catches. His hands flex at your hips. “Yeah?” he murmurs.

You nod, grinning as you push him back onto the pillows & crawl up his body, straddling his chest for a moment, teasing, before shifting lower. At the same time, he tugs you gently forward, guiding you with that same maddening patience he always has, only this time, it’s deliciously wicked.

Before long, you’re both shifting into place, mouths hungry, bodies aligned in that perfect, obscene symmetry. You moan against him the moment he slides his tongue over you slowly, expert, so Ben. He groans, hips jerking as you take him in your mouth in return.

It’s messy, hot, overwhelming. It’s worship & ruin & everything you’ve both been holding back. He tastes like salt & skin, & you make a mental note to thank the Roman gods for whatever twist of fate led to this exact moment. Just before the edge starts to creep in, before your entire body threatens to break from the pressure of it all, Ben pulls back just long enough to murmur, breathless against your thigh:

“Still entertained, my lady?” You just moan your answer because words? Useless now… & will be for the rest of the night.

Saturday morning & Ben’s bedroom was a mess. The sheets were tangled & smelled of you. His gladiator costume was somewhere on the floor, a discarded relic of the absolute sin that had taken place. You were still breathless. Your body was boneless, melted into the mattress, your skin still buzzing from everything he’d done to you the night before & this morning. Ben, equally wrecked, lay beside you, one arm draped lazily across your stomach. Neither of you spoke. Not yet. Still in a sexual haze of lust. Because neither of you had fully recovered. But the silence wasn’t awkward. It was warm & comforting. You look at your man, watching his magnificent chest rise & fall. Noticing every drip of sweat. He’s perfect. He’s your kind of perfect.

Your fingers lazily traced along his forearm, & Ben hummed, a low, deep sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. Arousing you instantly. You turned your head, finding him already watching you. Smirking. The Smug bastard.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, voice hoarse from… well… Everything.

Ben chuckled. “& impossible” he added that made you laugh “yet…” His hand slid along your waist, pulling you even closer. “Here you are.”

Your lips twitched. He wasn’t wrong. You exhaled, tilting your head just enough to kiss him, slow, lazy, thorough. Ben sighed into it, his fingers pressing into your hip, his body shifting just enough to remind you, that He wasn’t done with you yet. His erection is already starting to form again.

When you finally pulled away, he gave you that look. The one that had ruined you in the first place. The one that meant trouble.

“Y’know,” he murmured, his nose brushing against yours, “I think that was my best history lesson yet.”

You huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” His fingers trailed absently along your thigh. “& you, make an excellent student.”

Clearly the role play of him coming home after a grand battle was now making him have even more of a teacher fantasy. You were only going to encourage it. You smirked. “Think I deserve extra credit?” Ben grinned, flipping you onto your back with zero effort, settling right between your legs.

“Oh, my lady,” he murmured, voice wicked & full of promise.”I think you deserve everything.”

Then he showed you exactly what he meant.

Again.

& again.

& again.

Making sure you really were entertained.

[eri-pl]

TLDR: good!Maeglin in the Fellowship, he fits there so well!!!

Long post under cut.

So I was thinking about Maeglin and what if didn't betray Gondolin, and about his father's curse and I realized that if he was more heroic, Maeglin would inevitably have died killing a balrog. Because, you know, for some reason the only way to kill a balrog is to fall with it from a great height.

(To clear any doubts: I am assuming the interpretation where (pre-capture) Maeglin behaved like a decent young adult, and Idril behaved like a decent adult and none is to blame.)

There are different ways to do it:

He tells Morgoth where the city is but then warns Turgon, Turgon doesn't evacuate the city anyway, Maeglin does protecting Idril &co from a balrog OR

He doesn't tell Morgoth anything, is allowed to escape and Morgoth learns the location of the city by having someone follow Maeglin

He's lucky and doesn't get captured at all, someone else betrays the city, or Morgoth just brute-forces the location OR

Anyway, Maeglin dies fighting a balrog and it's a hero

So, he's sent to ME instead of Glorfindel, because:

A smith (and we have to get rid of a metal thing so it fits?)

Sneaking skills 100/100

He's got a talking sword!

Therefore:

→ → → Maeglin in the Fellowship ← ← ←

(Glorfindel didn't get in because he was too noticeable; Maeglin is not noticeable, he's good to go)

I think he'd replace Legolas. He can have all the same BFF beats with Gimli, it just starts different, not "sorta-enemies to BFFs" but "one-side racism, one-side fascination to BFFs" because Maeglin sure loves Dwarves. And tbh Gimli is less against him than against Legolas (see: Thranduil's behavior in "the Hobbit").

Also also:

Aragorn: You have my sword. Gimli: And my axe. Anguirel: And my Elf.

@lanthanum12 you may like it (and maybe he'd be able to talk to the ring, because of his awesome skills with metal, and well, I can't imagine him persuading Sauron to be better but you probably can. :) )

Also: "Boromir, you think you have a difficult father?!? You know nothing."

Also, Anguirel. In general.

…If anyone feels like writing this fic, have fun!

Edit: ok this goes up in the queue (my posting methodology is elaborate and makes no sense ok?) because I got hyped because this means Maeglin gets to save Frodo after he gets stabbed by the witch king, and the location and vibe of the wound is (iirc) the same as the the wound with which his father killed his mom??? Ooooh! I want this fic to exist

Ok ok ok did I just find a way to get more invested into Maeglin? (He's less evil in here but anyway)

Also: Anguirel talks telepathically with unconscious Frodo but it's nice, not like Anglachel was to Túrin. Yes, we need to figure out how even Anguirel got back with Maeglin. I guess it was in the Gondolin-stuff-heap in the Hobbit, with Glamdring and what not. And then Gandalf gave it to Maeglin later.

Also we need a way for Gandalf to die on the Balrog and for Maeglin to survive but not to be a coward. I say: just wound him enough or something, it shouldn't be very difficult to make it work.

Mmm I'm more and more hyped about it.

OK tbh he'd likely go by Lómion, but I'm too accustomed to calling him "Maeglin". Sorry.

Maeglin would have a *perfect* chemistry with Frodo, they both have this particular vibe, how do I explain it, perceptive, quiet and somewhat dark but not evil. I mean this AU's Maeglin and Frodo after some time with the Ring. The trauma, the healing… seriously I can see Maeglin as being the person who spends the most time with post-ring Frodo and introduces him to Undying Lands and later holds him as he dies.

Also:

Maeglin: Oh, you found the chainmail I had made for Earendil! Hi, chainmail. Nice to see you. Frodo (scared): …does it talk too? Maeglin: No, but that's not a reason to be rude to it! Frodo (to the chainmail): …nice to meet you.

Also with Elrond: both had absent fathers but one because the dad was so good, the other because the dad was so evil (and also bc Turgon). Both grew up without their mothers and with a parent figure being someone who caused (at least partially) the absence of their parents (Maglor and Turgon, also both of those are kinslayers idk what the official version is about Turgon).

Also, Maeglin lived very short (only 190 years! Another reason to let him spend more time in ME!!!) so outside of Aman he behaves a bit child-like sometimes, he generally feels much younger than he is, because old habits kick in. And Elrond is reacting to this in a parental way. But also Maeglin is older than Elrond, probably even without counting the years in Mandos he's a bit older, and is Elrond's weird-kind-of-granduncle (+ had had a crush on Elrond's grandma… took some time in Mandos to get free of it).

Oh and in this AU he saved Elrond's father's life.

I don't think he'd have much in common with Elrond's children. They respect each other, of course, but they just don't vibe together much.

But with Aragorn, oh, Maeglin would see Aragorn as a parallel of Tuor, and therefore an opportunity to address his regrets. Yes, even though Maeglin behaved ok in this version, his intense emotions still prevented him from forming a friendship with Tuor (until Aman, at least) and generally ... he has regrets.

And he is really invested in the Aragorn x Arwen thing. Maeglin the shipper. :D

And as he replaces Legolas, we are having the whole "three hunters" part, so Maeglin does get to spend a lot of time with Aragorn and do cool stuff together.

Also: Maeglin being the one to reforge Anduril? (This might have some side effects in the form of: Anduril kinda talks now)

He would also have interesting interactions with Celeborn. Not very intense, but he is distantly related to Eol (probably) and I imagine he's got similar ethnic/cultural/whatev background, so looks a bit similar to Eol, just is nice and respects his wife and doesn't hunch or work with metals… And Celeborn would be likely aware of this, he knows the stories. It would be a little awkward and both would be very emotionally cautious at the start.

And with Eowyn, he'd vibe with Eowyn too. Her feeling locked, all that stuff, she's got Aredhel vibes. A lot. Hmm now I want Meaglin to be involved in getting Eowyn alive from the battlefield and getting her healed. So many opportunities to relive and heal his past griefs!

Also he of course sees the whole romantic mess of her-Aragorn-Faramir and actively ships her w Faramir because he's got experience and doesn't want Eowyn to end up sad due to unrequited love, like he was. Mmm Maeglin the shipper again. XD

I need to reread LotR or at least rewatch it, I had to check whether Legolas was there. (And yea, we're basically replacing him with Maeglin without large-scale changes of the journey path).

Earlier, of course Maeglin would figure out that Gandalf the White was Gandalf, not Saruman, but Maeglin is a quiet guy and doesn't like to speak loud unconfirmed guesses, so we can have the suspense anyway.

[diegoshako]

Still in Bloom

pairings: blair waldorf x male oc

summary: blair waldorf and luke humphrey have always liked one another, but never took the chance to admit the truth of it.

notes: friends (sorta) to lovers, no blair/dan, no royal wedding, chuck is a red flag in himself. luke humphrey is fan-casted by me by tom welling, but picture him as you want. fan-edit is on my tiktok (diegoshako) if you want to see that! this is a little short, but it's my first tumblr one-shot so i'll get used to writing rather than in fic-chapters blocks!

"I don't know," Dan complained, the empty coffee cup remaining in his hand as they walked up to V Magazine. "Just count yourself lucky you're not working with Blair Waldolf. We cut a deal, but she's going to find a way to sabotage me, I just know it."

Tugging his gloves up a little from where they sat snugly on his wrists, Luke glanced at his slightly younger brother as he ranted.

"Isn't this your third day interning at V Magazine?"

Dan's hand came out in a dramatic gesture as if Luke was supporting his point, "Exactly." His fingers then click, "I have got to sabotage her before she does it to me. For once, it would be nice to not be on the losing side, you know?"

But, the thing was, Luke didn't know. Not really. He'd never been made a target of Blair Waldolf, the woman most famous for her take-downs.

Luckily for him, he'd always been on her. . . good side. Better words, she'd always liked him even before she knew that she did.

And even if she hadn't, Luke hadn't really ever thought about making enemies with her.

He'd fancied her since the moment they crossed one another in the school corridors. She'd flashed some small, semi-sarcastic smile after he'd opened the door for her to the courtyard where they sat for lunch, and he'd been hooked ever since.

Luke Humphrey was well aware how pathetically hopeless he was.

He was just thankful of how little people knew of that fact.

"Or maybe you can leave the scheming behind you and act like adults that you are?" Luke suggested, leaning forward with a raise of his eyebrow.

Dan scoffed as if that idea was pitifully idiotic. "Come on, Luke. This is Blair Waldolf we're talking about. Scheming is second nature to her."

The cold air tinted his cheeks a rosy colour as Luke glanced around, moving out of the way to avoid bumping into a lady walking toward him. It was his day off, and Dan had asked him if he wanted to walk to work instead of staying in, and Luke somewhat regretted saying yes.

Though, it was nice to see Dan for longer than a minute or two this past week. The Humphrey twins were so used to being one another's closest friend that it felt as if they were missing limbs to not be around one another lately.

"You need to give her more credit than that," Luke sighed, though he didn't really blame Dan's doubt — Blair's kindness on Luke had not extended to either of his siblings. Jenny had involved herself in Blair's world for popularity and Dan had been pulled in by the wind-whirl that was named Serena.

"I'm sorry, but are you saying that Blair Waldolf wouldn't take the chance to sabotage me?" The younger twin glanced at Luke with disbelief, finger pointing against his own chest, "You are aware who we're talking about right now, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm aware. I'm just saying, take the time to get to know her. She's not all schemes and tricks." Luke did his best to not be so on the defensive, but judging by Dan's face, he was failing miserably. Blair hadn't done anything wrong as of yet, and maybe she wouldn't.

"Am I talking to the right Luke Humphrey?" Dan peered closer, eyes narrowing. "What's going on with you?"

"Me?" Luke was glad that he was wearing gloves and his hat, because it was freezing. He didn't even bother to remove his hands from his jacket pockets as he turned his body in Dan's direction again, nose scrunched. "I'm just saying, Dan."

Dan pulled a face, not quite sure whether he believed that, but he didn't have any time to speak on it further, as they arrived at his internship.

Throwing the empty cup into the bin that was outside it's entrance, his shoulders moved up and down in a heavy motion, glancing up the building before meeting his twin brother's eyes.

"Wish me luck?" He offered for his own satisfaction.

Luke narrowed his eyes, "I think you'll be just fine."

Sensing that was all the sympathy he was going to gather from his sibling, Dan gave a light roll of his eyes and bid his goodbyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as well and making his way inside.

The taller Humphrey huffed, shaking his head. He was definitely regretting ever saying yes to this walk. Now he would have to take the entire journey back, alone and cold.

At least he'd gotten his exercise before he could spend the rest of his day off catching up with his Father, who had already demanded the length of his son's day.

But as Luke spun on his heel, blowing out a breath, his eyes met the soft, dark brown ones that he still remembered seeing for the first time. Even if that was years ago now. Nearly a whole decade, actually.

Her lips were parted, eyes slightly rounded in size for some reason, as she stared back.

Did he have something on his face?

He immediately moved to take a wipe at his cheek, self-conscious that he looked any form of an idiot in front of her.

"Hey," Luke said at the same time, greeting her with a warmth that he'd not even been speaking to his own brother with. But when she said nothing, one hand clutching the side of her bright purse, he asked with concern, "You okay, Blair?"

"Huh?" Was all she managed for a second.

The step closer that he took seemed to snap her out of her dazed state.

"Right," She cleared her throat, head coming up higher as her stare turned into an eye-ball, "What were you —" Her hand comes up, finger pointing, "Two just talking about?"

"What?" Luke asks, looking to where her finger is pointing toward the front of her work, "You mean, me and Dan? Nothing important. Just. . ." He wasn't sure how to admit that his brother hadn't been speaking greatly about her. "Just stuff about your internship, that Dan also has."

Blair furrows her brows, and just over her shoulder, he can see where her limo is still parked by the side-walk. "So, you weren't just talking about me taking the time to sabotage your brother?"

What?

That was certainly not what Luke had been saying, at least. He had said the opposite, but to admit that would be to admit that his brother had been saying that instead, and it was Dan who was working alongside her.

Her disappointment shone brightly and Luke wanted to tell the truth. instead, the silence that drilled between them momentarily made all background noise fizzle out, as if that didn't matter between them.

When her eyes glance away, Luke shifts in his footing. It's a natural instinct to do whenever he's lying and he notices immediately when her gaze pings towards his legs.

"Were you really just about to take the fall for your idiotic brother?"

This time when he looks at her, the disappointment had gone away, and there's something else there mixed with the playfulness that she owed in possession.

Blair had something about her that just radiated. Luke had always fallen victim to her charms.

"Did I really have a choice?" He jokes back slightly, hoping she wasn't too angry at him for it. By the seems of her face, she wasn't.

In fact, she even cracks a smile, stepping closer. "You defended me." Blair shakes her head slightly, "And you weren't even going to tell me that you defended me to save face for your brother."

( And there she had been, only some weeks ago, chasing after Chuck Bass.

Even though she'd been drawn to Luke since the day he held the door open for her. )

"I always knew you were the only hope of the Humphrey brood," Blair pitches in jokingly, unable to help herself. She's glad to hear his laugh at that, even though the small shake of his head disagrees with it in a serious note. "Thank you."

His shoulders come up and down in a soft shrug, not wishing for gratitude. He'd not defended her to be given something back. He'd simply down it because he believed in her growth. In the fact that she cared for her work now more than ever.

"Why don't I thank you over —"

"I don't want you to feel like you owe me something for something so. . ." Little, he cuts himself off but finishes his words in his head, unsure on how that sounded out loud. "My brother's just an overthinking idiot sometimes. He means nothing by it, really. He doesn't."

"Daniel Humphrey is the least of my concerns," Blair finalises, and Luke blinks, taken back by the seriousness of her tone. She spots his surprise, masking a gentle touch of a smile behind a smirk as her hair falls over her shoulder with the sudden movement of leaning to her side. "And I had no plans to sabotage him. . ."

The sound of beeping knocks Luke out of his amusement, head turning to the ongoing traffic, and the pick-up of business with more people travelling to their work destinations.

"Why don't we go out for a drink sometime?" Blair then blurts out, the words swirling in her mouth for a little before she can no longer hold them back or swallow the letters down.

The brightness of his blue eyes had always captured her attention, even across the room. Even when she'd tried to stick it out beside Nate, lost her virginity to Chuck, been betrayed in different ways by them, Blair had always found herself searching for Luke's gaze.

The blue of his eyes had always made her calm. Like she was capable of conversation outside of holding back or having to think of another scheme to keep one's attention.

And that smile.

( Luke thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. The melt of her stare, the darkness of her curls, the way she knew how to walk and talk and capture all the room's attention.

And her smile. )

The way he grins at her with a brightness has already made Blair's day.

"It's a date."

[shemasterbates]

FROM THE SIDELINES x suffocatingspring

I WANNA PREFACE THIS BY SAYING IM OPEN TO OPINIONS BUT NOT STRAIGHT UP HATE OR NASTINESS!

so i am a LATE fan to the mha fandom, i heard of the anime in like ? 2020 but i actually didn’t start watching anime myself until 2023 LOL. anyways- i think started watching the anime in like june/july of 2024? so i watched the last few episodes of season 7 as they aired. i immediately jumped into the fandom bc i needed MORE so i did what every sane person does and i watched edits, followed fan pages & YES i flew to ao3 bc i am not a stranger to fanfiction lol. the first mha fanfic i read was actually called In Medias Res by whileyouresleeping- (i adore this fic so much! its bkdk as an established relationship but turns into a bkdktd fic and it’s so beautifully written!) so the more i got into the fandom i saw a repeating trend with from the sidelines.. some ppl hated it, others loved it, it was talked about as THE bkdk fanfic so i was like ok i’ll give it a whirl, what the worst that could happen? RIP. so yeah i read ten fic late November (bc i remember reading at the dinner table during thanksgiving lol) and ha. this fic uprooted my fucking life. so here’s what i need to get off my chest before i scream:

1. i’ve been reading fanfiction since i was maybe 11 years old and yes i read sex scenes and YES i read MM or FF sex scenes. bro i promise the ppl who are mad about a FAN WRITTEN piece of literature featuring high schoolers based of FICTIONAL characters need to relax. the fic is tagged as smut so really what the hell else is the author supposed to do to “protect” readers? like bro just don’t read it if you don’t like what’s in the tags ??? the hate the author gets is soooo unnecessary like yeah i get it they are in high school in the fic but um.. real life high schoolers have sex i’m sorry to tell yall

2. SHE (the author) WAS LIKE 16 WHEN SHE WROTE THAT!!?!?!?!? 404k WORDS?!?!? ARE YALL MISSING THAT!?!? I CANT WRAP MY HEAD AROUNF THAT!!!!! its so beautifully written like seriously, for a CHILD to write something so well written that’s mind blowing. she is so underrated as a writer. you can SEE THE SCENES so clearly, i FELT the emotions, that angst tag nearly killed me cause OOOOOOO there was times i had to sit my phone down and walk around because i felt physically ill LMAO (sry i’m dramatic but yes it did happen) so like yeah the hatred the author gets is the worst, bc her work was an actual masterpiece

3. the outfits: …. ok ok were they cringe? yes. did i hate them so much that i wouldn’t recommend the fic because of it? girl no. and if i’m being 100% honest…. when i read the outfits i literally just made up my own shit in my head… idk what most ppl do when they read something like that but the outfit choice was such a minor detail like i just changed it in my head and continues reading with the characters in the outfits i imagined myself ? i read “blue tights and white oversized sweater” for the scene at the party i think? and i remember thinking yeah that’s not bad…. but what if he wore tight dark wash skinny jeans and a cropped sweater with a collar instead? and boom i continued happily reading with that outfit in my head :D same with the …. slip dress .. yeah idk i get the idea she was going for but in my head i just made him wear a mesh top with micro shorts and kept it pushing. the outfits weren’t that big of a deal and i think some ppl might not be capable of making their own reality when reading or maybe the lil images they have in their head are already tied to something negative? but for it to be such a big deal amongst fts haters i really just wanted to tell them they hated it because they can’t read LOL

4. the fucking soundtrack: yo. i haven’t read a fic that had a soundtrack SOOOO PERFECTLY MATCHED oh my gosh i’ve changed as a person bc now when i read a car scene/ dancing scene/ adventure scene/ ANYTHING all i can think is “damn what the music? what’s the vibes? FUCK.” like fts spoileddddd meeee UGHFJFJFJJG. NOT TO MENTION!!!!!! my dad grew up in the 80s so nearly all of those songs i knew previously because i had heard them growing up! ANNDDDDD i had two of the songs (take my breath away and nothings gonna change my love for you) on my FUCKING WEDDING PLAYLIST!!!!!! BEFORE I WAS EVEN A MHA FAN!!!!!!! NOW. HOW AM I GONNA DANCE AT MY WEDDING TO TAKE MY BREATH AWAY WITHOUT SOBBING BC OF BKDK !!!! HELLLPPP!!!!! but no seriously THAT SCENE bruh… nothing at my wedding would be that romantic i’ve accepted it lmaoooo. but yes i made my own fts playlist plus added some other 80s love songs and i listen to it DAILY. since nov 2024 ive been listening to every breath you take and happily fueling my delusions. i hear a whisp of 80s music in the grocery store and start hallucinating. AND I DON’T CARE!!!!! the playlist amplified the whole experience 100 fold and the contrast between katsuki’s character and the music choice just itched my brain TEW GOOD.

5. the height difference: ….. some of y’all TOO strict omggggg like bffr…. of all the things to get your underwear in a wad over ??? bye i can’t take y’all seriously

6. the smut scenes: LISTEN. i used to read larry fanfiction ok and when i say nothing has surprised me since…. so i mean it when i say that from the bottom of my heart that the fts scenes were TASTEFULLY WRITTEN AND JUST PLAIN GOOD?? unrealistic? maybe. but THATS WHAT THE PPL WANT!!!!! WHY WRITE A FIC WITH ACCURATE ANATOMY AND REALISTIC SEX SCENES WHEN YOU CAN WRITE A MASTERPIECE!!!!!!! like the quote: “we can run through the whole pack” AYOOO??!!? I SCREAMMEDDDD!!!!!! a man’s refractory period between sex is quite long (in my own personal experience) so that sentence had my head fuzzy & skin hot … AND IT WAS THE FIRST SCENE!!!! and i loved that the scenes were mostly vanilla (vanilla as in missionary & no heavy bdsm or other dynamics) it was passionate, RAW, and just so tender… and YES even the whole “pretend to make love” uuuUYGGHHHHGDHFHFH ARE YOU KIDDING!!!!! i ate that shit up bc that boy was NOT PRETENFING !!!! DONT YALL GET IT !????! FUCKKKKKKK!!!!! jeez it was all so very perfect, call me the #1 fts glazer IDC IDC IDC

7. I DID NOT READ THE ALTERNATE ENDING!!!!!! I CHOOSE PEACE!!!!! DONT SHARE A THING!!!!!!!!

8. i wish with all my heart, soul and essence that the author would release some fts one shots. i cry. like FUCK!!! i want to know how THIS relationship looks on like…. graduation day! or maybe one day katsuki gets an injury & izuku babies him back to health and katsuki pretends to hate it even tho he secretly loves it. i need a fts one shot of these two fucks buying an apartment together. a one shot of the day izuku moves out of his moms house. LIKE GUYS!!!!!! COULD YOU IMAGINE A FTS ONE SHOT OF BKDK PROPOSING????? PLEASE SOMEONE CRY WITH ME.

9. CAN SOMEONE PLLEASSEEEEEE DRAW MORE FTS FAN ART???? FUCK. IF I GOTTA LEARN TO DRAW AND DO IT MYSELF I WILL DAMN.

oKAY IM DONE

sorry that was long and annoying but you don’t understand i’ve been going fucking insane since i finished this fic and i have no one to talk to about it and all the comments i see online are like totally fucking rude and negative!!!! idc if you call me a meat rider the fic was overall fucking amazing and i really think most of the hate is forced. like even if you thought it was out of character, the writing/story itself was monumentally better than most books i’ve read in my life. i just love from the sidelines so much and ive shed REAL TEARS over this fic i just !!!!! i’m past saving at this point.

BUT! if anyone agrees with anything i said or wants to share their thoughts id love someone to fangirl with!!! lemme know your fav quotes! or your favorite scene! lemme know your fic recommendations! and PLEASE lemme know your post fts coping mechanisms!!! :333

[marikamlp]

Thoughts on ShaunaHat so far

Spoilers up to S03E06!!!

Before I say anything, I want to point out that I do not hate on anyone shipping them or enjoying their dynamic. I think everyone has their own right to ship whoever they like and I'm glad you guys have content to enjoy!

That being said my issues or, more so, concerns with ShaunaHat are purely narrative. Because what does this relationship mean for the narration? Well, it's definitely a confirmation of Shauna being bi. It has also given us a confirmation of JackieShauna (And I love it, I'm a number one JackieShauna shipper). However, I do feel like writers might just be spirling a bit too much into fanservice. I have recently read an article by Abby Monteil on Them (which I'm linking for anyone interested in reading the whole thing) and the author stated there something I am myself wondering: "How many Shauna-Jackie fics did these writers read before deciding to give Melissa vocal cords?" For me, the relationship between Melissa and Shauna is very random and something no one was expecting because Mel had like one line in season two and was one of the unimportant, randomly spawned extras.

This season some girls that have not been of interest before, seem to be getting bigger roles, especially Mari and Akilah. And I'm not mad about it. Mari's and Akilah's stories are interesting and help shape their character. I'm not even that mad about some of the fan service, it's funny like with Tai and Van's comments in episode 6 and sometimes it's a nice wink to the audience like with Mari and Pit Girl parallels (and I still believe it was a confirmation and a wink to reward the viewers and not a middle finger to the viewers) or even episode 3 Jackie reveal. It's not big things that influence the narrative really but a good way to acknowledge the viewers.

However with Melissa... do we really know anything about her beside the fact that she likes Shauna? And do we even know if she really likes Shauna or if this is some ploy? What are her thoughts on what is happening? Misty said that "Melissa can swing both ways" and honestly, yes, because I don't think there are any clear answers on her views and personality. She only appears in relation to Shauna and she usually says what Shauna wants to hear, instead of having her own voice (which I guess could be a point if she's supposed to be a new Shauna to Shauna's Jackie but it is taking away from the depth of the character). I'm still giving her a chance that there will be a turning point that will explain her actions beyond the idea of her wanting to score Shauna. Melissa barely stands as her own character. She seems to be playing a lady Macbeth role so far, encouraging Shauna and manipulating her actions (notice how she's giving Shuana compliments for being this chaotic and deadly and how she makes Gen vote against Ben first even though Shauna's screaming at other girls isn't doing much). If she does stay in this role, then maybe we will get some development for her. But I can't help but think Melissa was chosen as Shauna's new girlfriend, acolyte and servant because the writers have spent too much time on Reddit, watching edits and reading fanfiction during the hiatus, and they wrote it in to appeal to the viewers.

All in all, I'm not going to make any final opinions until the final of the season airs, but so far I've been getting a feeling that we're getting more of writers trying to appeal to their viewers than real hints and answers for the mysteries happening which is giving a feeling that they... might not know what they're doing. I am glad they are engaging with the fan base, I just hope their original idea for the show and story won't turn into a fanfiction.

[marisandini-chu-blog]

OC IDEA!!!

Okay... if the first 4 episode of TBHX is gonna be the standard for the rest of the series, I'm gonna prepare a Fix-It Fic just to fight Canon by the end of this.

DON'T THINK I WON'T DO IT, LH0!! I WILL FIGHT YOU FOR A HAPPY ENDING!!!

Dramatics aside, if I do end up writing a fix-it fic or the like. I definitely want to write an OC with Precognition ability.

Now, any of you taking the time reading this (thank you btw) would think the reasoning for this ability is because it's the easiest ability that help prevent the bad future from happening and you're not wrong.

But the primary reasoning my OC would have precognition because I want her (yes, a her) hero origin story to be a psychic.

Now, you might be wondering "Hold on, shouldn't she be a psychic after being a hero?"

And you are right, because she isn't an actual psychic.

She's a fucking conartist.

A conartist turn hero, and not by her own volition.

And I found the idea one of the most hillarious thing 🤣

Now Jane Doe (because I haven't decided a name) beginning is just a humble girl who needs money and use her talent of keen observation, cold read, being a good mentalist, and a bit of slight of hand to bring about the illusion of someone being gifted with the "third eye". Think of Shawn Spencer from Psych, she has that vibe around her.

People are reasonably skeptic of course until she has proven them otherwise, and before they even establish any trust for her, Jane Doe moves to another location because... you know... she's technically a criminal and she doesn't want to stay in one place and gamble her chances of getting caught in her lies

Now, I need to make this clear that Jane Doe isn't an inherently good person. She is clear asshole who would laugh at the idiots who would believe in her lies and take advantage of them.

However, being smarter than anyone else means she sees better than anyone. So when one of her clients revealed to be connected with heinous crime (maybe a spouse is actually a serial killer or a child being unknowingly stalk or worse)

And Jane isn't enough of an asshole to figure this out and ignore it. Instead she thinks, "Oh shit, someone gotta do something. Oh shit, does it have to be me?!"

A series of shenanigans happen later for the culprit to get caught, and before Jane Doe could dissapear into the night and move to the next city. Her face becomes viral.

And suddenly, seeing the future isn't a lie anymore.

Now you would think this would be good news for her. After all, Jane doesn't need to lie anymore in order to rip off her clients.

But it's one thing to manufacture a future in order to con someone.

It's another to actually see an actual concerning future. Like on the level of – "don't cross the road on Saturday 10 AM or Truck-kun will come for you" anytime someone ask to see their fate.

She has drawback in the form of anxiety – believing that if something bad can happen, it will happen. She ended up adopting meditation in her routine in order to keep herself from spiraling in her day to day life.

But she's also the type of person who will stubbornly persist as herself , which an unapologeticly materialistc. In the way like "Screw the attention, screw this anxiety, I will not let anyone and anything keep me from enjoying a comfortable lifestyle. Now excuse all of you, I have a cruise to catch."

But also, never once did she not try to save the people from a bad fate once she knows.

EDIT: there is also an OP-version of her that I just find it funny if she is confronted with any difficult skeptic client, she would make up an ability like "talking to the dead" in order to convince the client. So over time, the more she lies to make her life easier (and because lying is her defense mechanism) the more ability she has to juggle as she began to have difficult time to enjoy life when she cannot stop her survival mode after getting a stable lifestyle