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heavenlyhischier · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

word count: 6.2k

summary: You finally arrive in Switzerland and take a trip to Nico's hometown. Nothing can go wrong, right?

warnings: angst (sorta. at the end), drinking mentioned, not edited, probably some inaccurate descriptions of Switzerland, but I did my best ahaha, poorly translated german!!!

note: thank you guys for the love on the first part! i hope you enjoy this as much. my inbox is always open for questions or concerns!

series masterlist | prev part

JULY 2023

The plane rides to Switzerland were arguably the worst experiences of your life, when it came to air travel at least. First, people at the terminals were absolutely miserable and rude to you from the moment you stepped foot in the airports until you sat in your seat on the plane. Second, you almost missed your flight after your overnight layover because the hotel shuttle broke down. Then, you were unfortunately seated next to the seemingly one person on the plane who snored while they slept. On top of all of that, you were in the middle seat for both flights.

Needless to say, you had had enough of planes for the time being and you wouldn’t be upset if you stayed in Switzerland for the rest of your life if it meant never having to do that again. The only thing that got you through all of that without crying your eyes out were Nico’s excited texts about your arrival, and also Jack, who had to talk you down from fighting one of the terminal women at the airport after Charlie called him in a panic.

Once you and Charlie had gone through the proper channels to be granted clearance and had your suitcases, you searched the sea of people bustling around the airport for Nina, Nico’s sister. You’d only seen her in pictures, but Nico had made her send you a picture of what she would be wearing to make her a little easier for you to spot. You were grateful that she had, because you’re not sure you would’ve found her if it weren’t for knowing she was wearing a bright yellow top.

“Hello,” She beams, her smile just as bright and her accent thicker than her brothers, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Nico has not shut up about you since he got back home.”

Your cheeks instantly flushed a deep shade of pink as you let the man to her left take your suitcase, while she grabbed at Charlie’s. You’d known Nico had told his sister about your arrival and trip, but you didn’t think there was enough to tell that would’ve had him discussing you for the last two months. Though, you were going to choose to not dwell or read too much into it. Maybe it was a simple mistranslation.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” You grinned, letting her pull you forward into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you over the years.”

“Hopefully good things,” She teases as she gently squeezes you, “This is my boyfriend, Finn.”

You step out of Nina’s grasp and take Finn’s outstretched hand, a warm smile on your face as you introduce yourself. Once Charlie had made her own introductions, Nina was ready to set off towards the car. She relayed an apology from Nico, mentioning how he desperately tried to get out of the prior commitment just so that he was able to pick the two of you up. You had to ignore Charlie’s not-so-subtle elbow into your rib cage as she snickered.

“I’ll be sure to tell him not to worry. After all, he’s letting us stay in his house for free,” You lightly laughed, handing your backpack to Finn as he loaded the trunk.

“Yes, he told me about that. He said you are quite stubborn, in the best way,” She had a mischievous smile toying on her face, “He was ready to give up the entire place, but he said you wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah,” You shyly laughed, “I’m not putting him out of his own home. I don’t mind sharing a bed with Charlie.”

Nina slightly raised her brows at you, giving you a teasing smile when she noticed the blush that was still decorating your cheeks. You averted your gaze away from the woman in front of you, trying to not think about how much Nico had told his sister about you. Trying to ignore the stampede of butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you,” You and Charlie said at the same time as Finn grabbed the last of your bags, earning an amused look from the Swiss natives in front of you.

Nina offered either one of you the front seat, but you both declined and slid into the back instead. The drive there was filled with her pointing out landmarks or important shops, with Finn chiming in every once in a while despite his English being slightly off. You made a mental note to learn more words in their language to better communicate with him, and the other Swiss born people you’d encounter. You tried to learn the language as best as you could over Duolingo without asking Nico, but that proved to be more difficult than you’d anticipated.

Nearly halfway through the drive to the apartment, you’d gotten a text from Nico that mentioned how sorry he was for not only him not being there, but for also sticking you with his sister until he was done. You bit your lip in order to prevent yourself from smiling, though it didn’t necessarily work based on Nina’s smirk when she glanced back at you. Your response was simple, telling him that it was perfectly fine, that you loved his sister, and you were excited to see what he had in store.

When Finn pulls up to Nico’s complex, he leaves the car running outside the main front door and jumps out to grab your suitcases from the trunk. You slip out of the backseat, Charlie following suit as the two of them nearly shove you away as they grab your bags. Finn mumbles something to Nina before placing a gentle kiss to her lips and getting back into the car.

“He said wait here until he parks the car,” Nina translated, hands on her hips as she watches him drive off, “So, you and my brother are not…?”

The question caught you so off guard that you slightly choke on the air in your lungs, your eyes widening as Charlie let out a loud laugh. “We’re just friends,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking in embarrassment.

“I don’t buy it,” She shrugs nonchalantly, her brow quirking as she looks at you, “I know my brother, and you’re quite obvious too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Charlie snorted, ignoring the scowl you sent her way.

“We’re just friends,” You repeated, your voice much softer as you stared at your shoes.

Though Nina still didn’t believe you, she dropped the subject and fell into conversation with Charlie as you sat with your thoughts. It was a secret to none, except for Nico himself apparently, that you had feelings for him, and you’re not sure how you plan to keep those tucked away for the next week and a half. Nina’s subtle comments about how much he spoke about you were not helping you, either. In fact, they were letting you drift back over into the possibility of him liking you back.

Finn quickly returned, taking only your suitcase after you put up a stubborn argument when he tried to carry your backpack as well. Nina translated for the both of you in amusement, laughing with Charlie when you placed your hands on your hips and shook your head at Finn. After your small, harmless debate had been settled, you followed them inside and up to Nico’s apartment. While you were in the elevator, you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket, and you saw Nico’s name on the screen.

“Hello,” You answered, turning away from the smug smiles of the three of them.

“Hey! Did you guys make it to the apartment,” He asks, only the quiet hum of passing traffic being heard in the background, “I’m on my way now. I made them let me leave early.”

“Yeah, we’re in the elevator right now,” You told him, a light blush decorating your cheeks simply from speaking to him, “You didn’t have to leave early. We would’ve been fine.”

“Oh, he left early,” You heard Charlie’s teasing whisper followed by Nina’s giggle.

“I wanted to. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, so I will see you soon,” His voice was slightly softer than usual, almost as if he was trying to hold himself back from something.

“Great, see you soon,” You bashfully spoke, all too aware of the audience behind you.

You disconnected the call, avoiding turning around to see what you know are going to be playful grins and relentless comments on how red your face had gotten. Luckily, the elevator had reached Nico’s floor, and Nina was slipping past you to lead the way. Shaking your head when Charlie winked at you, you followed the two of them down the hallway until you reached what you assume is Nico’s apartment since Nina’s fishing around her bag for a set of keys.

When she finally gets the door unlocked, she pushes it open and gestures for the two of you to step inside. Your eyes are dancing around the apartment, drinking in all of the little details and decorations that littered the space. Pictures of his family and friends hung on the wall, but there was one picture in particular that stood out to you.

It was a picture of just the two of you that had been taken less than four months ago, after their win over the Rangers. You had tagged along with the guys and their partners out to some small diner to celebrate their win, and you ended up next to Nico at the table. You later learned it was not a happy accident courtesy of Nicole. The two of you were talking and having a good time when you had tipped your chair too far backwards, sending you toppling over.

Nico, being the kind person he is, had tried to prevent you from falling, but instead, he went crashing down with you. The two of you laid on the floor, laughter echoing around you as you looked at him. You had no idea anyone had even taken a picture of the two of you, but it made something swell inside of your heart at the thought of Nico not only knowing, but even caring enough to print it out.

“Let me show you the guest room,” Nina’s voice tears you out of your trance.

Both girls share knowing, teasing looks with each other, earning an eye roll from you as you follow Nina down the short hallway. She pushes open a door, her and Finn rolling the suitcases into the decently sized bedroom. You rush around Charlie, quickly moving to claim your side of the bed before she can do it.

The bedroom isn’t anything grand, but it looks extremely comfortable and cozy. The fluffy comforter is a light blue color with matching pillowcases that told you it likely came in a set. The walls in the room were sparsely decorated, but there was a full length mirror tucked in a corner with a small table next to it that was perfect for getting ready. There was also a TV that appeared to still have the plastic protective film over it sitting atop a nice wooden dresser.

The view outside the window made your jaw drop and your eyes slightly widen, the thought of never leaving returning again, but for a much better reason now. You had only seen very little of what the city had to offer, but you were already absolutely enchanted by it in its entirety. There was absolutely nothing that could compare.

“I’ll let you guys get settled and wait for Nico in the main room,” Nina softly spoke, “If you need help, just yell!”

“Thank you,” You gave her a small smile.

You and Charlie fall into a comfortable silence as you begin taking things out of your suitcases and bags. There was a small closet that you divided equally, and you also split the six drawer dresser between the two of you. You left your toiletries and other items on the exposed space of the dresser, not wanting to take up any bathroom space. You were in the middle of tucking your suitcase under the bed when you heard his voice.

“Well, come on,” Charlie playfully rolls her eyes as she watches you debate going out there.

She doesn’t wait for you as you briefly remain in your spot, your hands trembling with nerves, but you follow shortly after. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you round the corner, and you’re not entirely sure why. You knew you were going to be seeing him, so why were you so nervous?

“Hey Nico,” Charlie greets, letting him pull you into a side hug.

He greets her in return, but his eyes don’t leave your figure once he notices you hesitating near the hallway. The three of them notice the way Nico seems to have let them fade away, his focus now being you and only you. Nico’s arm is so loose around Charlie that she barely feels a difference when she steps away from them, her smirk matching that of Nina and Finn as Nico steps towards you.

Your eyes never stray away from his, everyone around you blending in with the background, as you watch him approach you with bated breath. Nico has the small smile on his face that he always does, but it makes your heart swell all the same. He instantly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your neck as your own wrap around his torso.

Nina shares a look with the two others as she shakes her head in amusement before she moves into the kitchen. Finn follows suit, Charlie shortly after, leaving you and Nico in the main room alone. Your head is pressed against his chest as you relish in the feeling of his arms encasing you. You could stay there forever if you had the opportunity.

“Missed you,” Nico bashfully mumbles, making your already red cheeks deepen in color.

“Missed you, too,” You whisper against him.

“I’m excited to show you my home,” He says as he pulls away, his hands lingering on your arms a tad longer than necessary, “I have a lot planned for us.”

The first couple of days Nico showed the two of you around Bern, taking you to all of his favorite spots, and spots he thought the two of you would enjoy. He let you guys have control of when you went, but he gave some guidance because certain places were best to see at certain times. He also gave you the option to say no every time he brought up something he wanted you guys to see, but you never did. Both of you wanted to see everything that you could.

The third day you were there, Nico mentioned that his parents wanted to host dinner for everyone, but he made it clear you didn’t have to go to that either. He reiterated that it was your trip and if you didn’t want to spend the little time you had with his family, he completely understood. You had given him a pointed look when you told him you would love to go and that it would never be anything except an honor to have them host you for dinner.

You had spent the majority of the day relaxing and wandering around the city with Charlie while Nico had gone off to do something work related for the morning. The two of you arrived back at his apartment an hour before you were supposed to leave, and you took turns showering before getting yourselves ready for the dinner. You were sitting on the floor in front of the mirror doing your hair when you noticed a receipt on the floor poking out underneath the table.

Curiosity always gets the best of you, so you reach for the paper and pull it out to look at it. The words were in a language you didn’t really understand, but the date was something you could clearly read. It was dated only a couple of days before your arrival and it had four things listed on it, so you opened your phone to do your best google translating job.

Mirror. TV. Side table. Comforter set.

Nico had bought a mirror, the comforter set, the side table, and a goddamn TV for the room before you got there. You’re positive he would’ve done this for anyone who was visiting and staying in his house, but you couldn’t help but let the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body. Nico had a big heart and he would always go to great lengths to make those he cared about as comfortable as possible, and regret from all of the times you let your unnecessary feelings push him away flooded your body.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that when you heard him walking through the door. Nico quickly popped his head in the room and to tell the two of you he was going to shower and change and then they would head to the train station. You and Charlie finished getting ready and waited for him in the living room, talking about how much fun you were having so far. It didn’t take Nico long to come out of his room freshly showered and changed, and he looked good.

He had changed into a pair of simple white shorts and he had on a black shirt that had an unrecognizable logo above where his heart was. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it still made you flush with warmth as you looked at him. Charlie elbowed you in the side when she noticed the way your stare lingered on him, a quiet snicker passing through her lips.

“Are you guys ready,” He asks, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. You assume it’s from how quickly he got ready, but Charlie knew better.

“We’ve been waiting on you,” You tease, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Yeah yeah,” He laughs as carefully brushes past you, “Let’s go then. Our train leaves soon.”

“Why are we taking a train again,” Charlie asks while the two of you follow Nico out of his apartment, letting him lock it behind you.

“It’s the quickest way to my home city. It’s an hour by train and two hours by car,” He says over his shoulder.

The three of you took the short trip to the train station, the car ride full of Charlie practicing her German with Nico who laughed at her attempts, but corrected her with grace. You yourself had recruited Nina’s help in learning and understanding the language, a little too embarrassed to ask for Nico’s help even though you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

When you arrived at the station, Nico made sure that everyone had everything before guiding the two of you inside. It was busier than you thought, but Nico said most things there were since it was the summer months. His eyes kept glancing behind him to make sure the two of you were behind him, and he made sure to give you a small smile each time you made eye contact with him. He could tell you were becoming overwhelmed at the amount of people, and he wanted to take your hand in his own to calm you down, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

When you finally made it onto the train, Nico guided you to your seats, gesturing for the two of you to sit before he did. You took the seat by the window, and Charlie gave you a subtle wink as she took the seat across from you instead of next to you. You carefully narrowed your eyes at her, but she looked away with a smug look on her face.

Nico took the seat next to you as the three of you fell into a comfortable silence. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, silently cursing Charlie but simultaneously thanking her at the same time. She was only doing what you were scared to do. The feeling of his thigh pressed against your own made your mind hazy as you kept your eyes trained on the platform outside of the window, watching as people rushed by.

Charlie, who couldn’t stay quiet longer than five minutes to save her life, started asking about what the rest of the week had in store even though he’d told you a hundred times. Nico indulged Charlie’s questions, though his eyes kept flitting to you as you stayed quiet in your seat. He wanted to ask you if you were okay, but he felt like it wasn’t the place for that. Though you were fine, except for the always impending realization that your feelings for the man next to you seemed to grow every day.

You started joining in on the conversation not too long after the train ride started. It was a mixture of topics ranging from what you were going to do now that you graduated to Charlie’s complicated relationship with Jack. Charlie had noticed the way both you and Nico had subconsciously shifted your bodies towards each other, but she chose to silently observe rather than embarrass you both like you did to her.

When the train reached the station in Nico’s hometown, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You felt as if you had to make a good impression on Nico’s parents and you were nervous that you were going to screw it up. What if your outfit was too much? Too little? What if you tried to speak to them in their native language and you embarrassed yourself?

Both Charlie and Nico could see the worry on your face, and she gave it a moment to see if he would step in. She watched him hesitate, but ultimately had backed down so she could step in. Charlie grasped your hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you followed Nico out towards where Luca said he would be waiting.

As soon as the brothers saw each other, they were loudly greeting each other as they pulled the other into their embrace. You couldn’t help but notice the way his entire face lit up the moment he saw his brother. You weren’t used to him looking so truly carefree that it put a smile on your face, and it made you wish that he could feel that happiness all the time.

Nico lets go of his brother and introduces him to the two of you. Luca, much like his sister did, tugs you into his arms as he says, “So nice to meet you. Nico has told me a lot.”

Your face instantly heats up, as does Nico’s as you step out of Luca’s hold and keep your gaze on the ground. Charlie quietly mumbles about how much she loves this family before letting Luca hug her aswell. You are intensely aware of Nico’s proximity to you, but you’re too flustered to glance at him. Truthfully, he’s a little embarrassed himself that his brother exposed him so freely.

“Well, let’s get going,” Luca claps his hands together, “Mom is excited to see everyone.”

The ride to their home was fairly short, but Nico and Luca pointed out a few of their favorite spots from when they were children. It was a cute town, full of life and character that most towns in the United States could only dream of having. Each new thing you saw had you completely enamored, and furthered the idea that you could stay forever.

The four of you climbed out of the car and headed towards the house, and you had forced yourself to put on your best facade of confidence to mask the nerves that rippled from your chest. Charlie looked nervous herself, but the both of you knew it was for a far different reason than you were.

You admired the outside of his parent’s home as you walked up the path to the front door. It was nothing grand, but it was beautiful. They had a blooming garden tucked underneath what you assumed is the window in the main room. They had adorable outdoor trinkets perfectly littered in the yard, and they even had the most beautiful bird bath you’d ever seen.

Luca opened the front door, announcing your arrival as he gestured for you guys to follow him inside. You guys step into the entryway, toeing your shoes off in lieu of Luca and Nico. You let your eyes wander around you, taking in all the pictures that decorate the walls. A small smile makes its way on your face when you notice a picture of Nico when he was younger dressed as one of the Ninja Turtles for what you’re assuming was Halloween. Though with children, it could’ve been a random Tuesday afternoon.

Your heart slams into your rib cage as the voices of Nico’s parents fill your ears, shortly followed by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Nico watches as you fiddled with your fingers and chewed on your bottom lip, and he’s brought back to the moment he first saw you. You were sporting a similar worried look, and you were even wearing a similar dress. The one thing that hadn’t changed, though, was that Nico still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hallo, meine söhne,” Nico’s mother softly speaks as she wraps her arms around Luca, followed by Luca. (Hello, my sons)

“Hallo mama,” Nico greets, returning her affection, “This is Y/N and Charlie.”

“Oh, hello,” She beams, her accent thick and clasping her hands in front of her as she looks at you, “It’s so nice to finally meet you two! I’m Katja. Do you mind if I give you a hug? We are huggers in this family!’

“Of course,” You shyly smiled, stepping into her outstretched arms. Her embrace brought a sort of comfort to you that made you feel at ease and welcomed.

“Sie ist sehr schön, Nico. Warum ist sie nicht schon wieder deine Freundin,” She teases as she looks at her youngest child, though you can only understand a few words of what she said. (She's very beautiful, Nico. Why isn't she your girlfriend again?)

“Er ist eine muschi,” Luca laughed, earning a shove from his brother. (He’s a pussy)

Katja let go of you as she passed you an adoring smile, turning around to briefly scold her two boys before pulling Charlie into a hug. You let your eyes fall on Nico and you noticed the way his neck and cheeks had reddened, so whatever his mother and brother said must’ve been poking fun at him. You weren’t entirely sure what they had said, but you made out the words ‘beautiful’, ‘why’, and ‘she’.

“Where’s dad,” Nico asks, clearing his throat as he slightly steps towards you.

“In the kitchen. Nina and Finn said they will be here soon as well,” She smugly smiles at the way her son seems to drift towards you, whether he’s aware of it or not.

“Is there anything I can help with,” You speak up, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat.

“Absolutely not! You are a guest here. You kids go in the main room and chat. Dinner will be done soon,” She waved the four of you off, subtly raising her eyebrows at Nico as he passes by her.

Nico trails behind you as the four of you fall into the living room, and it’s almost like Charlie and Luca had made a silent agreement to force you and Nico by each other when they sat on the sofa and stretched their limbs out. You playfully roll your eyes at your friend as you sat on the smaller sofa, Nico shaking his head as he took the seat next to you. You ignore Charlie who keeps glancing at the empty recliner, instead focusing on Luca as he begins asking the two of you about your time so far.

Nina and Finn arrive not too long after, the middle child taking immediate notice to the way her brother has his arm loosely slung around the back of the cushion behind you and the way you seemed to lean into him. Luca had taken over the recliner so the couple could sit on the couch, Charlie greeting them before everyone fell back into conversation.

Rino, Nico’s father, comes in when the six of you are discussing potential plans for later in the evening and announces that dinner is ready. A trail of hungry stomachs file into the dining area, everyone taking seats at the table. Katja is on one end followed by Nico, you, and Charlie while the others are on the other side with Nina directly across from you.

“What do you girls do for a living,” Rino asks as they begin passing food around the table.

“We actually just graduated. I majored in digital marketing, and I landed an internship with Ralph Lauren,” You bashfully admitted at the slight bragging moment.

“Congratulations! Nico told us about that, I believe,” Katja nonchalantly added.

Your face flushed as you take the dish from Nico’s hands, his eyes full of mortified apology. Charlie comes to your rescue by going on about her own major, the attention shifting on to her instead of you. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed by the things they had been saying, it just caught you off guard. They were making it increasingly difficult to deny yourself the pleasure of knowing that he didn’t feel the same. It was causing a war within your brain and heart.

The rest of the dinner went by with minimal teasing comments, and you had a fantastic time. You felt slightly guilty when his family would stumble over their English, and you made a point to tell them they didn’t have to do that the entire time. Katja was quick to wave you off and say that it was no problem and they needed to practice. However, you and Charlie both said you needed to practice too, so you compromised. You would speak to them in German and they would speak to you in English. It did not go very well on your end.

You refused to let his parents clean up dinner without your help, telling them how disappointed your mother would be if she found out you didn’t help. Once they realize you’re not backing down they end up letting you help Nico with the dishes while Charlie and Nina are tasked with cleaning the table. Luca and Finn corral Katja and Rino into the living, telling them to relax before they pick up the leftover tasks.

“Sorry about my family,” Nico quietly speaks after a brief silence, taking the dishes you hand him to dry.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” You laugh, “I love them. They’re amazing.”

“Yeah, but I mean the- I’m sorry about their comments,” He shyly admits, clearing his throat as he intently analyzes the plate in his hands.

Your movements still, the warm water running over the dishes as you let your gaze settle on him. The light above the sink illuminates his face in a way that’s almost certainly angelic. His brown eyes seemingly deepen in color under the light, and it makes your knees weak even though he isn’t even looking at you. His Adam's apple bobs as your silence starts to worry him, but when he turns his head he sees you’re already looking at him.

He sees the ghost of a smile toying at your lips when he meets your eyes. Your hair has delicately fallen in your face, and he knows you’ve tried to push it back countless times only for it to happen again. He knew it bugged you, and before he could realize what he was doing, he had placed the plate on the counter and he was reaching for the loose strands.

When you saw Nico’s hand reaching for you, you breath caught in your throat and you swear your heart stopped beating. You kept his gaze, your eyes slightly wider in anticipation as his fingers grazed your cheek. He pushed the hair that had annoyingly fallen in your face behind your ear, your mouth dropping open when he kept his palm against your cheek.

The two of you stare at each other, nothing but the sound of the running water filling your ears. His thumbs moves in the smallest of movements against your skin that you almost don’t feel it, but the action still sends shivers down your spine. Your breathing stutters, and you swear that he starts to move closer to you, but you’re interrupted.

“Are you guys do–,” Luca’s voice cuts through the tension between you, causing the two of you to spring apart, “Oh, I’m very sorry. Carry on, but we do want to leave soon.”

Luca has a smug smile on his face, one that rivals the many you’ve seen on Jack. He hastily walks backwards out of the kitchen, but not before tossing his brother a wink. Humiliation fills your veins as you quietly go back to washing the last few dishes in silence, not trusting yourself to speak. However, Nico mistakes your silence as a sign that he had misread the situation and he puts all of his focus on getting done.

The two of you finish not too long after, filtering out into the main room where the others are waiting to leave. There was no subtlety in their glances, but you ignored it and walked to stand by Charlie before they began going over the plan again. The six of you were going to some bar that they love and meet up with some of Nico’s old friends before coming back to sleep.

After everyone was in agreement, you split into two cars and made your way to the bar. Charlie was texting you the entire drive, trying to get the details of what happened in the kitchen, but you told her it was nothing. She didn’t believe you, saying she’s been third wheeling the whole time and there’s just no way it was nothing. Though she dropped it when you asked her how Jack was doing, noting that he hadn’t been texting you nearly as often as her.

When you arrived at the destination, you filed out of the car and fell in line with Nina and Finn as they led the way inside. Nerves were pricking your skin the closer you got, suddenly feeling more out of place than you had the entire trip. You were no longer going to be surrounded by strangers, you were going to be surrounded by people from Nico’s life here. The thought alone made you nauseous.

Luca trailed behind you as you walked inside and through the sea of people, quite a few of them greeting Nico and his siblings with smiles and hello’s. You felt small when their gazes would fall on you and Charlie, your mind wandering to the most anxious thoughts of what they could be saying about you. With one glance at you, Nico could see through the thin veil of calmness you had draped over yourself.

As Nina and Finn settled at the table, Nico was leaning down to your ear as he spoke, “Do you want to go with me to get a drink?”

You quickly nodded, knowing the alcohol would help ease some of the nerves. You asked Charlie if she wanted anything, but she said she was fine for now and that she would get something later. You followed Nico up to the bar, making a few stops so he could talk to someone, sitting on the bar stool he gestured to.

Nico placed his hand on the exposed part of the seat, his arm pressed against your back as he leaned forward to order a round of drinks for everyone. You tried not to let the effects of his touch show, but anyone who knew you could see that it left you frazzled. He looks down at you, giving you a small smile to attempt and bring you some sort of comfort, and it works at first. Until you hear the sound of a delicate voice directly behind you.

“Nico! Ich wusste nicht, dass du in der Stadt bist.” (Nico! I didn't know you were in town.)

You glance over your shoulder, noticing the way Nico quickly retracts his arm to his side as he slightly turns towards her. A beautiful blonde girl stands there with a bright smile on her face, and it feels like an exceptionally harsh reminder that you were virtually nobody even more so here than you were in Jersey. You watch as they engage in a brief conversation you barely understood before she looks at you.

“Uh, Y/N, this is Julia. She’s an old friend,” Nico awkwardly introduces, not looking away from her as you turn towards them.

You try not to read too far into his body language, but he makes it difficult when he completely turns away from you. He angles himself so that he’s covering a quarter of your body, and it makes your body heat up in embarrassment. You cast your eyes to the ground, but what the girl in front of you says nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Don’t be silly, Nico. I’m his ex-girlfriend.”

next part

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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viivenn · 5 months

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making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

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iamjellyfish · 2 months

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-`,✎The Idol Soldier-`,✎

❥ Author note: Hello:) this is my first fic! I suck at naming fics so it will be straight to the point! I should work on pin post first but my Soshiro brainrot needs to be fed! Thanks whoever got the idea of the reader being an idol TvT Ily!

❥ Summary: You're the famous and beloved idol of Japan! Jelly is your idol's name and a certain vice-captain is obsessed with you! Little did he know, that you joined the JAKDC for an appreciation song idea. He didn't realize it was you even though you only wear glasses!

❥Part: 1 you're already here:) ❥ Warning: English is not my first language, rejection, angst-make up, you fall first - he falls harder, simp Soshiro, oh yea very long ahh yapping from me:3... OOC?

Everyone is grateful for what JAKDC has done for society, and because of that, your producer thinks it might be good to make an appreciation song for them. You of course don't mind, but idol-fighting kaiju is something very fictional, to be honest. Of course, you panic about the examination test, what if you fail so misery?! The media would have a good laugh about you!

So you study hard for the writing test and have to pick up extra martial arts practice class because you're not sure if your current strength can get you in. It's not so bad for the most part, your normal idol practice makes this easier a bit, you kind of understand since it was famous that idol practice would be very hard and strict.

The day came, and you looked around to see how others doing, you could recognize the son of the famous Izumo Tech company, the famous Kikoru Shinomiya, and others who all seemed to have a lot of experience in this field, it made you a bit left out and odd out? At least better than standing out by being an idol. You disguise yourself with glasses because you were too panicked about the exam after you researched its rates to get in, lose sleep, and haven't had the time to prepare a better disguise to work with. So with glasses and a simple hair-down style, you somehow successfully disguise yourself, you kind of guess it's the Superman effect that you saw on the internet. But when you see Kafka chasing Kikoru in the field you wonder if your fans recognized you, would they do the same? You managed to get 21% on the suit though, your lucky number! Jelly had got into JAKDC!

❥Hoshina Soshiro's side!

Oh how much he loves his Jelly! The life of fighting kaiju is pretty stressful and when that happens, he finds himself listening to your songs. Jelly always encourages people to chase their dreams, to love, and to keep going, that's what makes him a Jellybean(fan name). He always feels left out because of his using blades and used to feel discouraged fighting kaiju with blades but you somehow always cheer him up! Hoshina Soshiro, the man who stays up at midnight waiting for the moment your concert ticket is available on the website, he will immediately buy it. The man who had one of the biggest Jellybean pages and posts about you in his free time.

Jelly announce she had the merch made a return and will be available to buy on XXX to XXX.

Of course, he would buy more of the merch even if he already had it! Hoshina Soshiro would use half his paycheck just to buy your merch, you know those crazy amounts of merch on a shrine of idol images? His shrine already goes viral once (nobody knows that the shrine is his).

He would also listen to your music a lot when he is doing his paperwork. Sometimes you would catch him humming your music while goes on patrol. He definitely talks about Jelly with Okonogi a lot and totally makes a jellybean club at the JAKDC!

They would roast the hell outta your antifan!

❥ current time: You sometimes hang out with Kafka in the library and since you trade secrets with the old man, he knows you're an idol, and you know he is a kaiju. You would now freely write your song lyrics while he doing his things. Tonight, accidentally watch the vice-captain training at night with Kafka. Oh man, he is so hot, his muscular figure got you good. You had silently got a crush on him for a while now. Reason? His voice is so hot, he has a good figure, and he is so cool. You did laugh at the old man for getting overwhelmed by Hoshina in battle but now if it was you, you would get overwhelmed too. Before the vice-captain recognizes your existence, you already dash back to your room using your dodging and runway from paparazzi skillsets, perks being an idol? Probably not. You could feel Kafka's annoyance for leaving him there with the vice-caption.

So after a while, you got along with everyone, especially Kafka's group. And you are encouraged by them to confess your love for the vice-captain. Even though you're unsure, your time at the defense force is running out and you can't keep hiding your feelings and probably never meet him again, you already have to leave on Monday so you have to shoot your shot quick. So you ask him to meet you on the rooftop at the end of the day...

"Um... Vice-captain..."

You spoke, anxiety filled your chest as you turned around and looked him in the eyes. Your heart felt heavy and you were so afraid of rejection, but even if you get rejected, you can't complain you were only here a few months and your idol life is unstable for love life since scandals about idols having lovers happened all the time. So in the warm radiation of sunset, you decided to confess with all your heart.

"Yes? Why did you call me here?" Hoshina said he looked a bit concerned since you sounded so afraid and ill too at the same time. He seems to kind of guess that you would confess since you kind of make it obvious by getting him gifts, letters, and sweets. You were a sweet one and he didn't want you to get hurt so he had to calculate how to reject you without making it sting, he had feelings for you too but the kaiju fighting life is no guarantee that he can make it or survive, he might even hurt your sweetheart even more if he doesn't reject.

"Vice-captain Hoshina, I really really like you!" You said with your heart out and your face basically blushes like tomatoes. You breathe slowly, ready for the worst, you keep telling yourself that you are ready for this. With the hope that at least the fall would be light, you waited for the results. Hoshina just sighed a little and then said in a usual upbeat voice.

"Sorry, but my heart belongs to Jelly! I'm a loyal Jellybean so I can't return your feelings." He smiled and you could see his little fangs out, before you could react, patted your shoulder while leaving and you could hear him say from afar "Keep up the good work though!". And you're kinda just standing there, surprised 'cause you don't really think that he likes you Jelly. That day, you were crying to Okonogi about it. "Shhh...Shhh y/n, you will find someone too! Hoshina is too obsessed with Jelly, don't worry there will be someone else better than Hoshina!" She said trying to calm you down, and you cried so hard that the glasses were all blurry and wet so you took off your glasses, wiped them, and tried your best to smile brightly at her after really thinking through it, since it was fine after all, at least you got a cool person as your fan. "Thank you a lot Okonagi-san! I really need it!" You got kind of confused when she kept staring at you with a calculating look. "You're Jelly right y/n?" "Eh-... Yea.." You ended up having to tell her about the whole song thing. "I'm already done writing the whole album so I will probably quit on Monday. Please keep a secret though!" You plead, since if the tea got spilled, you would definitely get yelled at by the producer. You kind of trying to manipulate her by using her sparkly idol eyes in the hope that she would keep it a secret, was it an ass move? Yes, but you're desperate.

"I'm not sure though... this secret is a bit too much..!" Okonogi said, waving her arms to signal she is very unsure of this. You sigh and then pop right back up saying. "It's fine! At least keep it 'till Monday alright?" You hand her a Jelly with a chat bubble "Thank you" keychain then leave before she can reject.

Glad that your producer handled the resignation process from the JAKDC because you had no strength left to look at the captain and vice-captain the last time. You packed your stuff and are ready to leave as your friends, especially Kafka all tearing eyes about you leaving. You were waiting for the company's car to come to pick you up so you didn't even bother to disguise yourself but Vice-captain Hoshina approached you. With hands in the pocket, he kind of tries to pick up the conversation but the awareness fills the air. "So, y/n or Jelly. Okonogi told me about you..." He said as she held out his phone with Okonogi's messages, her nickname was "The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝". Not gonna lie, you almost laugh out loud at the nickname.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: You might wanna know this.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝ has sent two attachments.

It's a picture of you in your idol outfit and your disguised self with red circles pointing at the similarity.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: If that isn't enough proof... The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝ has sent two attachments.

It's a document of the similarity between you and your idol self, "She even has receipts on me, that's scary." you think to yourself as you look at the last messages.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: You still might have a chance though. Try to catch up.

"Hm... well at least still kept her secret."

You said, you certainly didn't expect that but you guess it was fine. Though, seeing the person you secretly admire standing before you... You of course very happy. But a part of you thinks if he comes here for the confession, does he really love you as you or because you're Jelly?

This is definitely not the first time you encounter something like this... People only love you because you're an idol or Jelly. You don't think he is that type of person but who knows? "Y/n, please stay in contact. I will be honest with you since we might never get to talk like this again because you're an idol and stuff but meh... I think you're very sweet, even as Jelly, you take my hand and pull me out of the shadow." He said, with stars in his eyes. No, it was you that was in his eyes, his star, his idol, his Jelly. He held your hands, his hold was tight, not that it hurt but it definitely surprised you. You could hear him rambling on and on about how you had saved him somehow. You feel very happy, you know you have cheered people on with your songs but hearing it from your fan, from him makes your heart beat faster. "But my life-fighting kaiju is not stable, I could die anytime and I don't want you to suffer because of it. So even if I don't want to, I still have to let you go." He said, you could see sadness in his eyes. Oh how you hate it, no, no... It can't end like this. You won't allow it. The next thing the vice-captain knows is that his dream of kissing has come true. You basically jump on him and put your soft lips on him, it was warmth and he thought this was a dream. "I changed my mind, I want to stay with you Hoshina! I won't allow you to push me away! I want us to try, to be together!" You said you hugged him tight, and you held your tears. He returns the hug and then quickly looks at you with worry on his face while he has a hand on the back of his neck and says.

"But you already submit your resignation paper. How can you stay?" You smirk at him with a devilish expression, as a jellybean, he knows that this means Jelly will pull something that could put everyone in trouble. You take out your phone and text your producer to help you stay and somehow make that resignation paper invalid. You kind of expect she would be annoyed and get mad at you but didn't think she would send you a very long ahhh email yelling at you.

"And, now Hoshina is my boyfriend and I can stay." You declare, as you hold his hand and move it on your cheek. You know this is a very bold decision, but in the end, you still had an idol career, and fighting kaiju while being an idol is like a weird combination but you wanted to try. Try and balance both out, because you found someone you love. Right now, staying with Hoshina makes you feel something you have never felt before, and you will let the present open itself for you to see what is inside.

"I already got things under control, so let's go on a date!" You said with excitement eyes full of stars and smiling at him with warmth, Hoshina opened his eyes to take on all that radiating sunshine deep in his memory and laughed, he never thought he'd see this side of Jelly, he knew from those shows and series that you're a ball of sunshine who would cause some kind of trouble that makes everyone laugh. But now? You're much more and he wanted to learn more. You laugh with him, that is what he remembers clearly to this day.

To be continued...

A/N: omg, I hope my write fic isn't a disaster:) I will learn to improve my writing the next time:D

#kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #congrats you found a new writer that I had no idea what they're doing!#kn8 x reader #kn8

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buttdumplin · 20 days

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a ride home

cw: Gaz x reader, reader is not entirely neutral because it was written with someone specific in mind, fluff word count: 1309

AN: This was written for the lovely, wonderful, incomparable @mikichko. She was the first person in the fandom I actually engaged and connected with, and I could not be more grateful to have had that experience. Thank you for noticing all my rambling in your tags and talking to me. My life would literally not be the same without you, your love, or your support. <3 We also love Almond in this house <3

The last thing you expect to see as you leave work, exhausted from an over-long day caused by last minute meltdowns that no one in your team thought to prepare for, is Kyle standing right outside your building. Even through the blurry privacy frosting, you recognize him, his stance as deeply familiar to you as your own heartbeat. How could you not. You can feel the warmth of his skin just thinking about it. And there he is, waiting for you to come out. His head pops up as each person opens the door, hoping it’s you.

“I never said when I was coming home.”

His face softens with joy, excited to finally see you. Kyle leans against his motorcycle, thighs hugged snug by his riding pants, sleeves rolled up to leave his forearms on proud display. Maybe you should do a quick photoshoot with him one of these days, print some for the house and some for yourself.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he pulls you in by the waist of your pants, bending to kiss you softly. “I know, you said long night.”

It’s three hours past your usual clock out time. Precious boy, you could smush his face and cover it in kisses, but the day has left you drained. He grins and leans down for another peck, reading straight through you. You eye him carefully, looking for the faintest sign of tired, but all you find is happy pleasure on him.

“Train or bike?” Kyle asks, easing your heavy backpack from your shoulder.

“You can’t leave your bike here.”

“Not what I asked.” His tone is firm. He has full plans for both.

Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, crushing your nose to his chest. That’s what you need, your own little cocoon made of him. No other sounds or people to encroach in your space, no strangers or riding alone, just Kyle and the reassuring confidence wrapped around him.

“Bike, please.”

Taking your sweater off gently, he sneaks another kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to let the day wash away. It’s so easy with Kyle. It always has been. You never have the need or urge to mask and hide yourself from him for convenience. He’s always there to meet you as you are. Waiting for you to come out the door, apparently. You feel one strong hand steady you as he double checks the buttons and straps on your riding jacket once he has it in place.

“Got us new helmets,” he bonks your head lightly with yours.

The helmet seems pretty normal as you inspect it, a simple black with no additional decor. The brief and shallow disappointment on your face tells him his gut feeling was right, that he should take you into the shop next time so you can personalize and decorate it. You slip it over your head as he slips his own jacket on, his checks much faster.

With your helmet slipped on, you stand in front of Kyle, chin tilted up and towards him, visor popped open so he can see how sweetly you smile at him. He really should do a photoshoot with you. He can see it so clearly, a picture of you only wearing that smile and helmet to grace his wallet with.

“Who let you be so fucking lovely, hm?” he coos down at you, buckling the strap under your chin and pulling it snug, quickly doing the same with his.

You pull him towards you again, you gently tap your helmets together in a quick kiss. His shoulders shake as he chuckles.

Watching him closely as he swings a thick leg over the bike, you eye his bulging thighs holding it in place for you to climb on behind him.

“Good god, he’s delicious,” you mutter under your breath. “Does the simplest thing and he makes it look beautiful.”

You climb on behind him, a practiced jump slotting you in place behind him, your thighs wrapped tight around him. Somehow, you always forget how intimate the pose is until you’re on the bike again. The position leaves him vulnerable to your touch, body left open to your wandering hands as he maneuvers. But it also leaves you completely exposed to him. Kyle reaches back with both hands, fingers digging possessively into the fat of your thighs, reveling in the heat of your stomach pressed against his back.

“What a gorgeous little backpack you are,” you hear him say.

His voice is crisp and clear. Not muffled from the helmets, not distant from him facing away from you.

“Mics,” you say, your face burning.

“Mics,” he says, his grin evident in his voice.

You wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight, avoiding your embarrassment.

“Told you they were new.”

“Don’t we gotta be getting home?”

“As you wish,” the bike rumbles to life under you. “We’ll take the scenic route, yeah?”

You nestle against him as he takes off, content to hold him and escape the day. There’s no need to think about your lackluster teammates or the failure of a structure the company is based on. Don’t need to worry about any emergencies that only you seem to be able to handle. Best not to let them continue to overwork you when you have the option of spending your time with Kyle instead.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanna hear your voice while we ride.”

“I’d kiss you right now if I could.”

“Too bad there’s not much stoplights this way.”

The last streaks of sunlight fly right past you, night falling cool to cleanse you. Kyle’s humming comes in clear through the mic and after a couple of seconds you recognize it as the opening song from the very first playlist he made you. You squeeze him hard, gratitude fueling your strength. His hand grips yours, pressing them further into his belly. He continues to hum for the rest of the ride, soaking in all the little sighs you don’t quite realize you’re making.

The long way around usually takes about 20 minutes, which can be cute or can be long, but now it feels like not enough. The greenery is still beautiful, the pastel of the clouds still stunning, the cicadas still blaring, but it feels like you get home far too soon. Not enough time spent with Kyle in your arms. Pulling into your usual parking spot normally feels so relieving, but tonight it hits a bit sour.

“Dinner is set, just gotta heat it up. I’ll do that while you go change,” he undoes his straps and buckles quickly, racing to beat you to the heavy backpack.

Your mouth opens for another question, but he beats you to it, “Almond is fed and no upset tummy to report. New food is sitting well with her.”

Fully aware of how concerned you’ve been, amazing cat dad he is, he’s keeping careful track of any changes. Even bought a little journal to keep all Almond notes in, knowing seeing it all would help alleviate the hurt you’ve been wearing. Worry shouldn’t cloud your time with her. His best girls deserve to have fun and love on each other. Which reminds him, he’ll have to show you that new polaroid film he got you when you get inside, the one with the hearts on the frame.

“Why do you treat me so well?” you grab his wrist and pull him against you, already missing him.

Kyle barks a big laugh, “You mean like I love you? Hm, wonder why.”

“Thank you,” sincerity creeps into your voice, “This means a lot.”

“I’m just a call or text away,” he pulls you in for a tender kiss, lingering to bask in your sweetness. “I’m still working on telepathic messages, but I’ll get there.”

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader #cod

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superhaught · 6 months

Text

You Hang the Stars in the Sky

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word Count: 1400

Reader replaces Towa Bird at the Oscars after party as Reneé's guest. Established relationship.

Just a short little thing I wrote while depressed post-Oscars because I like hurting my own feelings.

The only thing that was keeping you grounded in this moment was her pinkie finger twined tightly with yours. You stood side by side with your girlfriend as you waited in line to have your photos taken at the Vanity Fair red carpet for the Oscars after party.

Reneé, of course, looked stunning as always. She was in a gorgeous white dress with an intoxicating plunging neckline, black heels and her trademark simple, yet elegant, smokey makeup. She had hair extensions that went down to her mid-back and you had been absentmindedly playing with her hair all night, whenever you could.

You felt fine with how you were styled. You were in a flattering suit that complimented Reneé’s fit well, your hair done just so, light makeup to just conceal and brighten… but this whole experience was so far beyond anything that Nae and her team could have prepared you for.

All around you were blinding lights and flashing cameras, people yelling, celebs everywhere you looked. Even Reneé was feeling the anxiety and she was much more familiar with how to navigate these events than you were.

You knew that your life was going to flip upside down when you started dating, you weren’t foolish in that regard. Being with Reneé for the duration of her Europe tour the past month meant that people had been looking your way and starting to talk, but you felt assured by the fact that Reneé wasn’t pressed about making a big deal out of going public. She just wanted you two to live your lives together and she didn’t want you to worry about things that were outside of your control.

Europe was a whirlwind. What was once just a lifelong friendship between you and Reneé suddenly exploded into more shortly before she was getting ready to leave for tour. Her asking you to travel with her was a spur of the moment decision, but one that neither of you regretted in the slightest.

She had said that you were her saving grace during it. You took care of her when she was sick, made sure she was resting enough, encouraged her to say something about the less than ideal signs that had started showing up at the shows, and just generally loved her and looked out for her. You had said, “I’m just doing what anyone would do for you.” But she insisted that, “no, they wouldn’t.” There were depths to that statement that hit hard for you both, and you realized that she was just as deeply into this relationship as you were.

Now that you were back in the states and things between you had only gotten more serious, your famous girlfriend had warned you that the attention on you might get crazy really fast, and she was right.

You weren’t famous. You weren’t even famous-adjacent. You were just Reneé’s person. And now, you were standing on a red carpet with her and doing everything in your power to not completely dissociate.

You stood at her side and warped your arm around the small of her back as she gently settled her fingertips into the hair at the back of your neck, moving them in soothing circles, letting your hair twirl around her fingers to calm and ground you. You echoed the motion with your hand on her back, falling into old habits of wordlessly comforting each other through moments of anxiety.

You tried not to look dead in your face. You tried to look light and joyful and grateful. But every camera flash stung your eyes and every single photographer was screaming at your girlfriend in a way that made your blood boil.

You could hardly tolerate the way that these people speak to Reneé. And frankly, Reneé was much more prone to flying off the handle than you were so you couldn’t really fathom how she could get through things like this.

You glanced over at the blonde and quickly got an inkling for how she managed. She was dissociating, as best as she could anyway. She had learned to master the facial expression that wasn’t really a smile but still looked pretty. She kept her eyes loosely focused and her mouth relaxed. She ignored the shouting photographers and just took things at her own pace, posing the way that she wanted to, not really giving thought to whether the photographers got the shots that they wanted.

In that moment, you made the conscious decision to switch tactics. You gave up looking out at the cameras and just started to look at her. Everything got easier, then. Everything was easy when your focus was Reneé. You just looked at her gorgeous blue eyes and the highlight on her cheekbones and the softness of her lips and the slope of her shoulders and everything was all right. Your genuine smile formed on your face and when Reneé caught your gaze on her, she couldn’t help but smile genuinely, too, laughing sweetly at your expression and taking a second to nuzzle her face against yours as if no one else was there.

She guided you through the rest of the whole ordeal which you desperately needed. When you finally exited the red carpet area, you both took deep breaths and squeezed each others’ hands. You kept a hold of her hand and guided her down some steps, being careful to watch her footing so that the combination of her heels and floor-length dress wouldn’t trip her.

She sighed at the bottom of the staircase and finally spoke to you, now that it was just the two of you and her agent, “well, that will be a hard-launch if I’ve ever seen one.”

You raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

She giggled, “at the end there, you were looking at me like I hang the stars in the sky. I don’t think anyone will be doubting our relationship anymore.”

You smile and nod your head, “ah…” suddenly, you felt panicked, “wait, is that okay? I didn’t-”

Reneé cut you off, “baby, of course it’s okay. Don’t worry,” she squeezed your hand, “I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours…”

You nod again, feeling the anxiety ease a little, “okay… are you sure?”

Reneé stopped walking and turned her body to face you directly, pulling you forward by your hands so that you were close to one another, “I’m sure, c’mere.”

She reached out and placed a hand on the side of your neck. Shivers raced down your spine from the touch of her fingers and the cool metal of her rings. She pulled you in and kissed your lips gently, lovingly. You melted into her like always, your hands instinctively finding their home at her hips and lightly tugging her even closer to you. She smiled in the midst of the kiss and caressed her thumb over your skin, and rubbed her other hand along your upper arm.

She was everything. At the end of the day, she was all that mattered. You would brave any storm for her, and you’d never want anything about her career to change for your sake, but you were very lucky that Reneé valued your personal lives and your security as a couple a lot. You knew that she wouldn’t jeopardize what you had together, and you promised her that she would never have to choose between you and her work.

When the kiss you shared came to an end, you met each other's eyes and smiled adoringly at one another.

“I love you, Nae,” you state, “thank you.”

“I love you too. Thank you for being here with me.”

You nod and lift her hand to your lips, placing gentle kisses on the back of her hand and her knuckles. She smiled and fixed some of your hair, inducing a flood of butterflies in your stomach. She could always do that to you, without even trying. And when she was trying, forget it.

You met her eyes and said, “for the record, you do hang the stars in the sky.”

The blonde rolled her eyes at your cheesy line and then pecked a kiss onto your cheek, “you sap,” she joked, “now come on, let’s go party and enjoy ourselves, yeah? You up for it, baby?”

You crack a smile and nod, “of course, angel.”

#renee rapp #renee rapp fanfiction #real person fiction #fanfiction #my writing

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ghost-emoji-anon · 2 years

Text

hi! i'm not entirely sure how this is going to play out if i post something here and now, but i'm going to post it and see how it goes! it's for the call of duty fandom and audience, but hopefully whoever follows me here can engage with it as well. :)

right so, könig obviously has his sniper mask on at all times. sticks to himself and doesn't go out of his way to make friends. talks when he's being spoken to, etc. that sort of thing. that is until one day someone new is joining the team

he sees you. first thing he notices is the mask you wear and his interest in you went from 0 to 100 real quick. but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe you're wearing it because you just got off a recent mission before coming here.

but that all changed when he sees you and your mask on at all times. in and out of the battlefield. he notices your demeanor is different on the field and out of it. you remind him of himself sometimes, but you're a little more open to speaking to others than he is so he's sort of afraid to approach you. so he just silently admires you from afar.

you, obviously you, take notice of this giant man off in the back keeping to himself and no one around you ever says anything about it. you wonder why no one takes notices of könig, but you never bother asking anyone that. you just silently watch him from afar as well. neither of you catching the other watching.

but by some odd miracle, you two are paired up on a mission. you really don't know how that even happened but you're grateful for whoever is watching over you and glad you've gotten some opportunity to at least speak a few words to him.

what you expected was a silent man on a mission... what you got was the complete opposite. you can very well get used to this, because you were in the same boat. both of you grinning under the masks, neither of you seeing the others smile but could only tell just by looking into the others eyes.

that one simple eye contact was what sent you and könig a jolt of some sort of electricity and now the pair of you became inseparable.

the others on the team noticed how well you worked together and more often than not, you two were paired up. getting the job done quick and efficiently.

as the months came and went, you formed a sort of friendship that bordered onto something more.

down time was soent with him. he taught you simple words and phrases in German, you taught him your own. (whatever language you speak)

he shared his favorite foods from his homeland, you did the same.

very rarely would you two open up on your personal life, but it was starting to get to the point where you two would indulge the other on your past.

he told you about his hard time growing up, being bullied and the like.

you told him of your own insecurities.

each day was a anew experience with him and as the months continued to go by, you and him had gotten to the point where you would nap/sleep in each other's rooms.

and one day, the tension was so high between the two of you that you could no longer hide the one thing you kept from him

your face.

so you asked him to come by your room one. kept the lights low but just enough that he could still see you when you finally decided to take your own mask off.

he stops by and wonders what was going on

you tell him exactly what you were going to do and of course, he panics a little inside and reassures you that you don't have to do this. but you tell that it's something you want to do and that you felt like you can trust him with everything you have. all of you.

he nods in understanding and that's when you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding

slowly, you remove your mask. lifting it from your neck and up. your neck is exposed first. revealing the soft flesh of your skin and könig nearly chokes on air.

he's antsy. his fingers are lightly drumming across his thighs and he doesn't know what to do with himself at this very moment. but he lets you continue

his eyes are taking in everything and it nearly makes you nervous but it also fills you with this adrenaline

your chin is next then your lips

könig's throat is DRY

your nose and cheeks come into view and at this point, he doesn't know how he hsdnt passed out yet

and then finally

you reveal the rest of your face and könig is just staring

you're not sure how you should react to his staring but you almost think it's a bad idea until he mutters something in his native language

you know the word, you've heard him say it before and he told you what it means as well

he called you beautiful.

you nearly choke on your own breathing just from that one word alone

what you weren't expecting was for him to do the exact same thing. you never asked him to, you didn't say you expected him to do the same but he did

könig did it just for you. only you.

he didn't take his time, he just took off his mask like it was something he did with everyone. but that's how you knew that he could trust you with everything.

you both stared at each in awe. taking in each other and memorizing the lines, ridges and everything and keeping it within your memory for as long as you both drew breath

neither of you ever realized the two of you were getting closer and close, not until both of your breaths mingled with one another and you both shared a small, hesitant chaste kiss.

what felt like eternity was only a couple of seconds. both of you opening your eyes and giving each other a smile that only you two had the pleasure in finally seeing

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im-ovulating · 11 months

Text

(A/n: Finally another Ahk post?? NSFW version coming soon)

(Alphabet belongs to @squid-god-supreme)

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️

Summary- An A-Z of our favorite Pharaoh

Warnings: None

Age Rating: None

Ahkmenrah SFW Alphabet

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

A-ffection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Ahkmenrah is a very affectionate guy. He loves everything that has to do with showing your partner just how much you love them. His number one love language has to be physical touch. Specifically, cuddling. He loves the way your warmth seeps into each other as you both talk about anything that comes to mind.

Act of service and words of affirmation are Ahk's go to love languages after tactile affection. He'll do anything from secretly helping you lock up just so he can see the surprised and grateful smile that graces your lips to showering you with the most extravagant compliments he can think of.

B-est Friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

He'd be the best friend that you know you can tell anything without judgment. Real judgment that is, he won't hesitate to tease you over minor or petty things. He's a really good person to just sit, talk to, and vibe with. You know that no matter what, you can also rant, vent, or rave to him whenever you need to, and he'll listen with open ears.

C-uddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ABSOLUTELY. If there's one thing this pharaoh loves, it's cuddling.

His time in the museum is a damper on his cheery disposition, but having someone to cuddle with - someone warm and properly alive, with a regular heartbeat and paced breaths - helps him keep his sanity.

D-omestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking/cleaning?

If he could, he would.

It's that simple. Ahkmenrah was so young when his older brother turned on him. He never got to experience the most basic, natural things of life.

He never got to marry and have children. He never got to experience the deep, unwavering love that he saw within his parents. He never even got to properly rule the kingdom he so dearly loved.

So, if he had the choice of settling down with you - the only person he has ever felt this way about -, best believe that he would do it in a heart beat.

E-nding: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

He would do so only after thinking through any and all solutions to whatever problem has caused this.

He would sit you down and calmly and articulately explain his feelings and the cause and would softly break the news to you.

He would definitely hold you and cry with you, promising over and over that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you and that it kills him to do so.

F-iance: How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

If he felt strongly about someone, he would be happy to marry them as soon as he could after properly getting to know them. That being said, he would be completely understanding and willing if they wished to wait.

G-entle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

He is the epitome of teddy bear. He is so sweet and caring towards you.

That will quickly go out the window if someone disrespects or hurts you. He is a pharaoh after all...

H-ugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What do their hugs feel like?

Loves hugs. It's like a mini cuddle.

He'll hold into you as long as he can, lightly swaying you side to side as he breathes you in. He only gets to see you at night, so it's understandable that he misses you so.

I- love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

He would say it as soon as he recognized what he was feeling. As soon as he realizes his feelings for you extend further than that of friends, he is telling you. Acceptance or rejection doesn't matter to him as much as being truthful to you does.

J-ealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?

I don't think he would get jealous over typical things. I think it would be less jealous of a guy near you and more so jealous that said guy gets to see you in the beauty that it the radiant sunlight; meanwhile, he only gets to admire you in the museum's artificial lighting.

K-isses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

Slow, passionate, but not sexual. He wants to show you how much you mean to him, wants you to feel every ounce of love he has for you.

The type of kiss that leaves your cheeks hot and your lips puffy as you gaze at each other with half lidded eyes.

L-ittle ones: How are they around children?

He's good with children until they get sassy. He doesn't quite get how to intereact with the sass and (what he was taught) disrespect.

Ahk is a sweet guy, but he is also a royal. He was raised with the notion that no one should talk back, sass, or otherwise maime him so the kids of today are a bit of a culture shock for him.

M-ornings: How are mornings spent with them?

The moments before sunrise are spent getting him prepped to go back in his sarcophagus. Soft kisses, promises, and extra promises that you will be there as soon as the sun goes down to get him out of the golden prison.

N-ights: How are nights spent with them?

Nights at the museum are either spent alone in his section as he attempts to teach you ancient Egyptian, in the break room watching a movie on your laptop, or playing around and partying with the other exhibits - smiling at the pure joy that Ahk clearly gets from working the dj booth.

O-pen: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Ahkmenrah is a tad bit blunt in his words, so he would probably nonchalantly tell you anything and everything from his past without a second thought. He just feels so comfortable and safe around you that he doesn't feel the need to guard his words.

P-atience: How easily angered are they?

Normally, he is pretty easygoing. But insult his home, kingdom, parents, or self, and he is quick to snap back. After a while, this same protective nature extends to you as well.

Q-uizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

He remembers everything. He doesn't have much else to do in the museum, so why wouldn't he fill the empty spaces with memorizing details of his favorite person?

R-emember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

The first time yoh said "I love you".

He knew exactly when he started loving you, so to hear it back is the epitome of cloud 9. He would only admit it in the most desolate of nights, but he is a bit insecure that he can't give you the normal relationship you deserve. So the affirmation he gets from your vocal and physical love is definitely worth remembering.

S-ecurity: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How do they like to be protected?

He is very protective. He may not have that much life or battle experience, but by gods is he ever ready to defend you or your honor. No one hurts or disrespects you if he can help it.

T-ry: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

He puts as much effort as he can into the little "dates" you can go on in the museum. Set up small picnics in the natural habitat exhibits with the help of Larry, will sneak out to the park in front of the museum to stargaze with you as long as he can safely do so.

U-gly: What are some bad habits of theirs?

When it's a really bad mental health day, he has a tendency to talk down in himself in his current "life." It takes several promises of ypur adoration for him and many hours of cuddling and running your fingers through his hair before he is even slightly less self depreciating.

V-anity: How concerned are they about their looks?

He's not super obsessed with his looks, but, like any person, he wants to look decent at all times. He knows he's handsome, so as long as he isn't busted, he doesn't really focus on his visuals.

W-hole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

X-tra: A random headcanon for them.

Yes.

Resounding yes.

You make him feel normal, like he's truly alive again and not stuck forever in a museum filled with wax figures and taxidermied animals. Without you, his not-so-after life would be dull, and the nights would just blend together.

You introduced him to the concept of fuzzy blankets, and now he is rarely seen without one. He had you bring one to keep in the break room for your movie nights. (And so that on the nights you can't come to the museum, he has something that smells like you.)

Y-uck: What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?

Z-zz: Sleep habits?

In general: anything sour.

Since he is the only "real" person in the museum, he asked if you could bring some modern candy to try. Seizing your opportunity, ydecided to bring War Heads.

He never asked you to bring modern candy ever again, he gets his fix from Larry now.

In a partner: being detached.

He knows everyone needs time alone. He's not stupid. But if you're constantly shut off and distant, he wont hesitate to confront you about it.

He won't be rude, but he wants to know what happened to make you pull away like that.

He "sleeps" enough during the day. The last thing he wants is to fall asleep during the few hours he has with you.

#ahkmenrah x reader #natm ahkmenrah #night at the museum ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah fluff #ahkmenrah x you #ahkmenrah #night at the museum x reader #night at the museum

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dingochef · 9 months

Text

Instructions for a Good Time

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC-Elsa Matthews)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), blow jobs, fingering (all kinds), rimming, pegging,

Summary: An innocent question from Boys Night Out ™ leads Jake to an entirely new way of pleasure, and you're more than happy to give it to him. AKA, the long awaited pegging Jake fic.

Word Count: 5.5k (a quick drabble my ass….pun intended).

A gift for you all lovely lovelies and just in time for Christmas. What started as a tiny idea for a drabble/ficlet to celebrate 200 followers….here we are. Enjoy, fellow sluts reblog, and let me know where you got to awkwardly read this during the holidays!

Masterlist

“How was your boys' night, Jake?” you ask, noticing how your boyfriend sways slightly as he hangs up his jacket and takes off his shoes.

“T’was good,” he responds, a slight slur emphasizing the slight Texas twang usually hiding in his accent. He shuffles into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water.

You move over on the couch to allow him a spot to plop down, making sure your wine glass is safe on the table. Jake had gone out with some of the guys from the Dagger Squad, a few of them, including his bestie Coyote, being in town as guest lecturers for Top Gun. Rooster declared it a “Boyz Night,” which Jake only agreed to when it was spelled correctly, the sucker for details he is.

Jake settles in next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder, languid and relaxed, a tipsy amount inebriated, not sloppy. You put your book down on the coffee table, exchanging it for your wine glass. You're about to take a sip when Jake asks, in perhaps the most casual manner ever given what is about to come out of his mouth,

“Have you ever pegged anyone?”

You're grateful that your wine glass has just reached your lips and you hadn't fully tilted it up to drink, or there would be a fine mist of merlot spraying across your living room.

“I'll answer, but where did that come from?” you ask, gently, looking down to see the wheels turning in his head.

“Got talking about sex stuff with the guys,” he replies.

You raise an eyebrow in concern that some of the intimate details of your sex life with Jake were up for public discussion. He clocks the gesture and reassures you quickly,

“In general terms, nothing too detailed. And, it came up.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“There has to be more discussion than there's a sex act called pegging. Moving on,” you counter and Jake slightly blushes.

“Coyote talked about the difference of being with a woman versus a man, specifically receiving instead of giving. Said it would blow your mind.”

Coyote, Jake's best friend and his ride or die for many years, is gay. A simple fact that no one in the Dagger Squad, especially Jake, had ever batted an eyelash at.

“Makes sense,” you hum, combing your fingers through Jake's hair, “Men do have a prostate.”

Jake chuckles and then says,

“I did choke on my beer when Rooster agreed.”

You and Jake sit comfortably for a few minutes, before you respond.

“Yes, I have pegged someone.”

Jake perks up, waiting for more details.

“I had a boyfriend in grad school who liked…to explore…that side,” you pause,

“Is that something you'd be interested in exploring?”

Jake turns a satisfying shade of red as he considers the offer,

“With you, yes.”

You let out a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan at the thought of that experience with Jake. The boyfriend from grad school had a more feminine, softer body, and a more submissive vibe to him. The idea of taking Jake in all his muscled alpha male glory does things to you, those things mostly being getting your thong very damp.

Before your imagination goes too far thinking about how each muscle in his back would ripple deliciously every time you thrusted, you remember there are some practical matters to attend to, you ask,

“Have you ever engaged in ass play?”

It's Jake's turn to have his eyes bug out in surprise, he coughs on his water before answering,

“Umm, no. No, I haven't.”

You slide your hand into his,

“That's good information to know, we're going to have to work up to actual pegging. As much as you like to go balls to the wall with everything,” he laughs quietly, shaking his head slightly at your terrible joke. Your other hand cups his jaw, a light graze of stubble tickling your palm,

“I don't want to hurt you, Jake. I want to take care of you.”

He leans into your hand and kisses your palm.

“Okay, El. I trust you, completely. I know you'll take care of me and I'll have a very good time.”

“I will Jake, you okay to try something tonight?” you ask, a little unsure, “Like blowjob with some extras?”

Jake laughs, bright and loud,

“El, I will always say yes to a blowjob. And yes, we can try some stuff.”

After a quick peck on his lips you spring off the couch, and tell him,

“Stay there, I'll be right back.”

He nods as you slide across the hardwood to your bedroom where you find the lube in your bedside table.

You return to the living room, where Jake is sitting on the couch awaiting your return. Placing the lube on the table you straddle Jake's lap and pull him in for a deep kiss, your tongues melding together as you rock your hips. You sigh when his hardening cock puts pressure on your clit through your thin sleep shorts and underwear.

He reaches down to pull your shirt over your head and you let him guide the soft fabric of one of his worn Navy tees off your body. You return the favor and slide his shirt off, dropping it on the couch. Instantly his mouth is on your breasts, teasing and licking at the nipples. The sensation is so good that he almost distracts you from your original mission. Reluctantly, you slide off Jake and kneel on the floor in front of him.

You snicker to yourself as you ease his belt through the Texas Longhorns belt buckle, like anyone would ever forget Jake is from Texas. Jake lifts his hips to allow you to pull off his jeans, leaving them in a small heap next to the sofa. Lightly you run your nails up Jake's leg to the top of his boxer briefs and pull them down, releasing his hard cock, precum visible on the ruddy red tip. His underwear joins his pants on the floor and you turn your attention to him and his gorgeous cock.

Peppering light kisses along the shaft you work your way up to tip, pausing a moment before you take him into your mouth. You take a little bit more of him on every bob up and down till his dick is hitting the back of your throat. A natural steady rhythm forms as you work Jake up, listening to his moans, grunts, and words of praise.

“Fuck, El, that feels good. You suck my cock so well,” he murmurs, holding back your hair as you pleasure him. He is getting close, so you pull off of him and drag a finger down the shaft wet with your spit, past his balls, and very gently circle around his hole.

“Can I touch you here?” you ask, almost breathless in anticipation of his answer, you've kept your other hand slowly jerking him up and down.

“Yes, fuck, El. Yes, touch me,” he pants out, his green eyes hazed over with lust. Grabbing the lube from the table you squeeze some out on your hand, enjoying the little whine from Jake when you pull your hand away from his cock.

After the lube has warmed up, you lean back down, taking him in your mouth as you press your middle finger gently against his hole. You tease just the tip of your digit past the ring of strong muscles. Your other hand stroking his cock. Jake moans softly above you,

“Color?” you ask Jake, pulling off his cock for a brief moment.

“Green, El. Green,” he responds, voice calm.

Emboldened by his answer you push your finger slowly up inside him up to the second knuckle. The way he moans only gives you some more confidence. Making sure there is enough lube, you push your finger further into him, seeking his prostate.

The moment you find the small rubbery bump with the thin tip of your finger, you know Jake understands how it feels to have your clit sucked. He lets out the deepest, most primal grunt mixed with a moan you've ever heard from him.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, El…yes, there, keep touching me, ugh, there,”

Jake grunts. His breath catches every time you surge up on his prostate with your finger. You slide your mouth back down on him.

Syncing up your finger thrusts into Jake along with each slide of your hand and head up and down his cock.

Above you Jake is losing his mind,

“Fuck, El, not gonna last long..too good,” he pants out.

It only takes a few more repetitions for Jake to come undone, his entire body spasming from head to toe. Jake is lightly thrusting as he falls over the edge. He is speaking but not forming any words you recognize.

“Oh my, fuck, good, so good,” he says, interspersed with grunts and moans.

His release floods your mouth, some spilling out the corner of your mouth. Slowly and gently you slide off Jake's and pull your finger from him, earning a light sigh from him.

He is looking down at you, sated and face filled with love and tenderness that seems out of place with what you just did. He runs his thumb to collect the come that has dribbled down your chin. He swipes his thumb across your lips and your tongue darts out to taste him.

“Damn, El. You're going to kill me if you keep on like that,” he groans and pulls you up to his lap, grabbing your head for a deep kiss.

“How was that, Jake?” you ask, curious about his reaction. He smirks and nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Really fucking good,” he responds, smiling shyly in the skin of your neck.

“I’m glad,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him on the forehead, mindful to keep your lube covered hand away from Jake and your upholstery. Jake yawns, causing you to yawn.

“Let's head to bed, sweetheart,” Jake offers and you nod in agreement,

“I need to take care of my girl.”

–

“Couldn't we just order this online?” Jake, slightly whines, stepping into the sex shop behind you.

“I think this is the best way to, I don't know..., pick out something that's going in your body. Just think of all the other terrible Amazon purchases you've made. Do I need to remind you of the Tiny Chair Debacle™ ?” you respond.

“To be fair they didn't say it was for a dollhouse,” he counters.

“It was an armchair for ten dollars, Jake,” you remind him.

“Okay, okay, you're right,” Jake concedes and lets his shoulders relax as he follows you deeper into the store towards the toy section.

“Here we go. Which one do you want to take home?” you ask, big smirk on your face. Jake glares at you,

“You're loving this aren't you?”

“Yup, for such a sexual person, you being all bashful when it comes to sex toys is endearing,” you answer, going up on tip toe to to give his mildly grumpy mouth a kiss. He sighs and points to an all black dildo of rather substantial size, asking,

“How about this one?”

Tilting your head and picking up the object, you offer some advice,

“Mm, seems too stiff,” Jake snickers at your word choice, “And a little ambitious for a first time.”

Setting it down you walk down the wall where dildos of all sizes, shapes, and colors are perched on clear plastic shelves, Jake trailing behind you.

You select a slimmer blue model with some give and a slight curve and hand it to Jake. He takes it and considers it.

“This one would be good, reasonable girth, flexible, and it's shaped to hit your prostate.”

Jake stops and looks at you, a smirk on his face,

“You researched this, didn't you?”

“Of course, you didn't think we'd just go into this blind? I want this to be good for you.”

“God, you are such an engineer. And it's really hot,” he places the dildo in your hand, “Yes, let's get this one.”

Quickly you find a harness and some other lubes. A few minutes later you've got an entire pegging starter pack in a bright magenta shopping bag.

When you get home you place the bag on the bed, Jake follows you in and slides up behind you. His hands on your hips, he starts to kiss a line down your neck.

“Can we try it out?” he asks as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt.

“Yes, I'm game,” you reply and Jake pulls your shirt off. Turning around you return the favor and shed Jake's shirt.

“Let's start with a shower,” you suggest. Jake grins and slides his strong hands down your back over your ass and under your thighs pulling you up to him. On instinct you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and your legs around his waist. Jake captures your lips into a deep kiss and walks you both to the bathroom.

“Showoff,” you tease as he sets you down. Jake continues to strip as you start the shower. Your clothes hit the floor as the water warms up. Stepping into the water you hold out your hand for Jake to follow and he does eagerly.

Your arms wrap around Jake and his around you as the warm water envelops you both. He leans down to kiss you and you both sink into the kiss. You slide your arms down Jake’s back massaging the muscles as you trace his lips with your tongue. He sighs and allows your tongue into mouth and his into yours.

You let yourselves get lost in each other's mouth, embrace, and bodies. Hands sliding easily with the water, gently caressing each other.

Knowing just how long your water heater will last, you finally break apart and grab a washcloth. As you pull Jake's body wash off the rack you say,

“Turn around, let me wash you.”

Jake takes a deep breath, turning quickly and slapping his hands on the wall with his legs spread like he's preparing for a cavity search. The gesture pulls a laugh out of you.

Jake turns and looks at you confused.

“Come here,” you say softly, squeezing some body wash on the cloth. He steps back to you as you run the sudsy cloth along his shoulders.

“This is about relaxing you, not just some perfunctory step in the process. Let me take care of you. Just like you take care of me.”

His face loses the tightness it had before as you run the cloth on his chest, enjoying your touch.

When you're satisfied with his chest, you gently place your hand on his shoulder and he turns around.

You reassure him with a hug, even if your face mashes in between his shoulder blades because of your height difference. He sinks back into your embrace, folding his arms over yours.

Starting at his shoulders you swipe the cloth around, making sure to massage each muscle earning you some sighs and groans along the way.

“Feeling good?” you ask, continuing to work your way down his back.

“Yes, El. I should have you do this more often. You have magic hands,” he replies, arching his back to allow you more access to some of his lower back muscles.

“I think that can be arranged,” you reply, sweetly kissing between his shoulder blades. Convinced that Jake is relaxed and close to being putty in your hands, you let the wash cloth slide down the sharp slope of his ass making sure to gently caress the firm muscles with your other hand.

Trailing kisses down his spine you kneel down continuing your worship of his body. You make sure to kiss both dimples on his ass; the thought that you want to leave lipstick marks on them someday flashes in your brain.

You lead with the washcloth and gently swipe across his hole as you drop more kisses on his firm ass. Dropping the washcloth you place both hands symmetrically on each cheek, your thumbs just at the top of his crack. Massaging small circles you slide down his crack, pulling apart his cheeks as your tongue follows the same path.

Stopping just shy of his hole, you ask,

“Color, baby?”

From above you hear Jake's head thunk onto his forearm planted on the tile.

“Green, El. So green,” he pants out. Satisfied with his answer you dart your tongue out to trace the delicate muscles around his hole.

“Fuck, El…feels good,” Jake moans, slightly muffled by his arm.

Slowly and methodically you swirl around him, enjoying the sounds you're pulling out of him.

“More, please, El, more,” he begs and you oblige him and push the point of your tongue into the center.

“El, fuck…,” Jake's words fade as you thrust in and out with your tongue. It's when Jake starts to push back at your face that you know it's time. Settling one last kiss on his ass you stand up.

“Ready for more, baby?” you coo into his ear. He stands upright turning to look at you and catch you in a kiss.

“Fuck me, please El. Fuck me,” he moans into your mouth.

Getting out of the shower, dried, and back to the bedroom is a blur of hands, kisses, and a few giggles as you maneuver down the hall to your bedroom.

When you reach the edge of the bed, you direct Jake to lie down,

“Get comfy. On your back.”

He lays down with his easy grace for a man so large and looks at you in anticipation, the bright magenta shopping bag still on the bed. Flexing his arms to put his hands behind his head he watches your movements as you pull out the dildo, strap, and one of the new lubes. A lube the lady at the store swore by for anal. You lean down to give a quick peck before saying,

“Let me go make sure this is clean and open the lube. Be right back.”

A quick rinse with some soap and water and opening of the lube later you’re back at the bed stepping into the harness, an understated neoprene number in black. (Recommend because it's machine washable, it appealed to your practical side.)

Jake watches you intently as you adjust the straps to your liking and attach the dildo. With the final adjustments completed, a slight look of apprehension crosses Jake's face as he reaches out and touches the dildo and considers its size. Sensing the tension you decide to crack a joke,

“So tell me the truth. Who wore it better?” you ask, grinning and swinging the dildo back forth comically. Jake cracks a grin and laughs.

“Well, I hope I wore it better, but mine’s not blue,” he replies, his patented smirk on his face.

Leaning down to kiss your favorite smile in the all world, you answer back, against his lips,

“Without a doubt you wear it and me better, lie back and let me take care of you.”

He sighs into the kiss and lies back, settling into the pillows, and letting any tension ebb out of his body in one long breath out. You chase his lips down and kneel on the bed, taking your time to drag your lips along his jaw, neck, and chest leaving kisses on your wake. Your hands come up to cup Jake's pecs and gently brush against his nipples with your thumbs.

Looking up at Jake you can see is relaxed, his eyes hazy and watching you worship his body. You meet his gaze and tell him,

“You are so beautiful, Jake.”

He blushes at the comment, but graciously accepts it and cradles your face in a loving gesture. Planting firm kisses down the midline of his abs you slide into place between his legs.

Jake's half hard when you draw him in your mouth, and you enjoy the heady feeling of him plumping up in your mouth as you work down his cock. You slide up and down with your mouth and hands a few times, letting your spit run down to his balls. You leave your hand on his shaft and trail your lips down to his balls, licking them generously.

“Feels good, El,” Jake pants from above. You give each ball one last kiss and lick your tongue across his taint and finally to his hole.

“I'm going to open you up, Jake. Is that okay?” you ask, you've been gently stroking his cock this whole time.

“Yes, El. Green,” he answers. You grab the lube and squeeze a dollop on your fingers and try to warm it up.

“This might be cold,” you warm Jake as you smear the lube on his hole, he starts a little and then relaxes again. Slowly and methodically you start with one finger, not getting deep enough to hit his prostate, a second, and finally a third. You check in at each stage and receive a breathier “Green” each time from Jake.

“Are you ready for my cock, Jake?” you ask as you kneel up, making sure to make eye contact with Jake.

“Jesus, El. Yes, I'm ready for your cock, please fuck me, it's been hours,” he answers more strung out than whiney.

“Roll over on your knees,” you instruct him and he complies. A few pillows are stuffed under his hips and he leans down crossing his forearms and resting his turned head on them. It takes a few adjustments from both of you to find the right height and angle for the mechanics of it all to work. Those details worked out with a few giggles and laughs, you lube up the dildo and place it at his hole.

“Ready? We can always stop,” you reassure him.

“Yes, please, El. I'm aching for it,” he answers. With that all clear you guide the tip of the dildo to his hole with your hand and gently, slowly insert the tip into the tight ring of muscles. It glides in easily, all of the prep worth it. You slide a bit farther and pull back out just a little, testing the waters.

“Fuuuck, fuck that feels good,” Jake practically shouts. He starts to push back at you in an effort to get more of the dildo. You smile to yourself, feeling accomplished as you thrust in. The push and pull repeats itself a few more times and a low moan is pulled from Jake and a frenzied,

“There, fucking there, so good, please more.”

Triumphant you've found his prostate you keep thrusting at the same depth, determined to get Jake to that edge in a new way. Your hands grip hard on his hips, just where his Adonis belt meets his quads, to keep you in place as you pull in and out of him. The rhythm established, you take the time to savor and thoroughly enjoy the vision before you. Jake has lifted up onto his forearms, no doubt to get more leverage to push back. His head oscillates between being thrown back, neck stretched out as he moans, and hanging down as the pleasure overwhelms him. Every time you surge forward he meets you halfway. You let one hand wander to catalog each of the muscles in his back and how they flex and twitch each beat of the rhythm. You can't help but be transfixed watching the dildo, your cock as you've started calling it now, slide in and out of Jake. The absolute ecstasy you're giving him is a heady feeling and ratchets up your arousal, soaking the neoprene of the harness.

“Fuck, Jake, you look so good damn hot, can't believe I'm the one who gets to see you like this, fuck you like this, make you feel so good,” you pant out between each push of your hips.

“So good, El, so fuckin’ good. You fuck me so well,” he responds, the words scattered between each ebb and surge of your bodies.

“Think you can come just like this, Jake?” you ask, knowing your stamina for this position is waning.

“Need more, touch me, please, please,” Jake begs, “Something please.”

“Okay, one sec,” you reply. You pull all the way out on your next beat, earning an anguished moan from Jake, words of confusion tumble out of his mouth,

“No, where? What? El?”

Laying a reassuring kiss at the small of his back and stroking his flank in a soothing manner, you instruct him,

“Flip over.”

He complies with amazing speed as you sweep the pillows off the bed and slide up to meet him. Sweat is beaded up on his face, hair in a dozen different directions, and his eyes are glazed over with pleasure. His cock pulses on his abdomen, a sheen of precum on his abs.

“Hands here,” you direct him, taking his hands in yours and sliding them under his thighs as you lift his legs up for a better angle, “Hold them, right there.”

He complies and lets them bend at the knee. Shuffling the last few inches, you rest the tip of your cock at his hole as you apply more lube.

“Ready?” you ask and are startled by how fast Jake replies.

“Fuck yes, please just get in me, El.”

Happy with that answer you slide in smoothly as deep as you'd been going before, the same feral reaction from Jake when you find that special bundle of nerves.

“Ungh, right…fucking…there, El,” he pants out between thrusts. Satisfied with your rhythm you grab the sides of Jake's waist and hold hard against his prostate on one thrust in and gently massage his prostate with a slight rocking of your hips, Jake's moans change in response.

“Fuck…good…ahhahh…there, ungh.”

You lean down, thankful for all your gymnastics training and twice weekly yoga, because you know Jake is about to lose his mind, and you're more than happy to do it for him. You slide one hand from his waist to the base of his cock to hold it one place and with no warning take Jake's cock as far in your mouth as you can and suck hard. The overwhelming combination of your cock in his ass, your hand jerking at the base of his dick, and your mouth are the explosive elements Jake needs for total liftoff.

Jake's orgasm is a whole body experience, his hand flies down to the back of your head holding it there as he thrusts up into your mouth flooding it with his come, and his ass clenches around the strap on and puts a delicious pressure on your clit. He comes with a loud shout,

“Ohmyfuckin’ god, fuuuuck.”

His release floods your mouth and you can't hold it all in or swallow it and it drips out of your mouth onto his abs.

Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through his body accompanied by another spurt of come. The waves decrease in intensity and Jake falls back to the bed limp, his hand sliding off your head. You take that as your cue to release him from your mouth.

Leaning up, you warn him,

“I'm pulling out, okay?” and he feebly waves a hand in answer. Gently you pull the strap on out and quickly unclip the straps releasing it to the bed.

You climb over Jake, mindful of his oversensitive cock where it rests on his belly in a puddle of come. Sliding up his lax body, you position your knees on either side of his chest and lean up so he has a front row seat of your glistening cunt.

“Fuck, Jake. That was so hot, so fucking sexy. Fucking you got me this wet. Feel,” you pant as your hand slides to give your clit some relief. Jake is mesmerized by your frenzied movements on your clit and brings his hand up to offer you two fingers to fuck yourself on. They slide in easily with how turned on you are, it takes a few pumps of his thick fingers and tight circles around your clit to fall over the edge, a gush of your slick coating Jake's hand and arm as you clench on his fingers.

“I'm coming,” you shriek as your pent up arousal bursts forth. Unable to hold yourself up you lean forward planting a hand in the pillow next to Jake's head. Under you Jake groans as you clench on his fingers as each wave hits you. The pleasure ebbs as Jake pulls his hand from you and both are left panting gazing into each other's eyes. A few moments of silence and you both crack a giddy smile.

“Wow,” you say, at a loss for more eloquent words.

“Wow,” he repeats, making you both laugh. Rolling to Jake's side, you lie on your back catching your breath. When you look over, Jake is lying peacefully, eyes closed and a wide smile on face.

“I'll be right back,” you tell him and slide off the bed, he nods lazily. You head to the bathroom for thorough hand washing and tooth brush before grabbing a bottle of water and some dark chocolate squares.

Back in the bedroom, you sit on the bed and brush Jake's shoulder gently, he stirs looking up at you in a way that can only be described as “dreamy”.

“Here, sit up. I got some water and chocolate for you. Drink and eat this while I get the shower going.”

He sits up and leans against the headboard and takes the water and chocolate from your hands. You give him a quick kiss on the forehead before you grab the strap to bring to the bathroom.

As you let the water heat up, you disassemble the strap, throwing the harness in the dirty laundry and washing the dildo off with a gentle soap per the directions. Those tasks completed you go and gather Jake, he has dutifully drank the water and eaten the chocolate.

He follows you when you take him by the hand to the bathroom and settles on the bench in the shower. You pull down his shampoo and tilt him forward to get his hair wet. Standing in front of him you lather his hair, making sure to comb your nails through Jake's hair in the way that he likes. Jake leans his head against your stomach and wraps his arms around your back. You grab the hand sprayer to rinse Jake's hair so you don't have to break this embrace and closeness. Rinsed and just luxuriating in the water you hook a gentle finger under Jake's chin to direct his gaze to you. Satisfied his gorgeous green eyes are meeting yours you ask, softly,

“How do you feel, Jake?”

He smiles in response and pulls you down to straddle his lap, in a gesture that clocks as intimate rather than physical.

“Really fucking good. I liked it, well loved it, obviously, it was different in a way I didn't know my body could do. But I think the part I enjoyed most was just how focused you were on taking care of me. It made me feel…,” he pauses, a bashful look creeps onto his face,

“Incredibly loved.”

Your face softens and you surge forth to give him a reassuring kiss,

“You are incredibly loved, by me. Everything I give back to you is a reflection of the love you give me, Jake. I love you so fucking much, it takes my breath away sometimes. I always want you to feel our love.”

A brilliant smile blooms on his face as he kisses the side of your neck in a sweet gesture.

“Thank you, El. I love you so much too,” he replies, trailing his lips up to meet yours for a kiss. It's sweet and followed up by a few playful pecks. You and Jake sit wrapped up in each other, the sound of the water soothing as you lean your foreheads together soaking up the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

You startle slightly when Jake breaks the silence,

“I didn't know you were that flexible,” he says.

The thought that Jake was surprised by your flexibility makes you laugh, bright and loud, it echoes around the shower.

You lean back to look Jake in the eyes.

“Really, Jake? Think of all the ways you've fucked me like a pretzel,” you say, eyebrow raised. A dirty montage floats through Jake's brain, bringing an equally dirty smile to his face, as you say the next thing,

“I'm not a former gymnast who does twice weekly yoga for nothing.”

He laughs and tilts head in agreement, a mischievous look appears in his eyes, one you know well.

“Just think of what we could do with yoga three times a week, sweetheart,” he says, signature smirk in place.

“Jake!”

–

Of course I couldn't write these two disgustingly in love people doing something as intense as pegging as a quick ficlet. No, we HAVE to know why they're fucking and all those gooey emotions with it. Hope you enjoyed it.

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mamachasesmayhem

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

#top gun maverick #hangman #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #jake seresin smut #hangman smut

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five-and-dimes · 7 months

Text

Unsung Lullabies (Prologue)

The day has finally come- here is my piece for @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!

An attack on the Dreaming leaves Dream wounded and weakened in an unexpected way- physically, mentally, and emotionally, Dream is temporarily left as a child. Hob is given the task of watching over him until he heals, which seems simple enough, but slowly through their time together he learns more about the things his love struggles with and why. He learns more about Dream’s family, and the ways he’s been hurt that he won’t admit. But with Hob’s help, he may begin to heal some of his ancient hurts.

Warnings: Implied/referenced Child Neglect, Implied/referenced Emotional Abuse

Read the whole thing on AO3

I got so lucky and was paired up with @elliotsissues who did the most beautiful and adorable illustration for my fic!

For context, well, keep reading ;)

~~~

Hob is bored and misses his boyfriend.

There’s nothing unusual about that, and while in the past he may have held some embarrassment at the idea of missing his partner after a single day of not seeing them, Hob has grown well past such shame. Yes, he saw Dream at breakfast yesterday morning and that does not stop him from missing him now.

Even after over a year of dating, Hob still sometimes finds himself in awe that he ever managed to survive a whole century between meetings with his stranger- though he is certainly not a stranger anymore.

Hob remembers how much of his life was spent assuming he would never see his mysterious stranger outside of the White Horse. Even after Dream returned to him, a part of him assumed that he would only see Dream in the New Inn. And for a while, that was true. After receiving a name, and a declaration of friendship, and an agreement to meet more than once a century, Hob hadn’t felt like pushing his luck. So they had met at the New Inn twice a month, and Hob would drink and speak of his experiences since their last meeting, and Dream would keep a hand around a full glass that was never lifted from the table and stiltedly spoke of his own life.

It had happened by chance that Dream came to meet him during an unexpected dinner rush, the Inn packed with groups waiting for tables or a space at the bar. Dream had been so blatantly uncomfortable with the crowd that Hob hadn’t even though much before suggesting they head somewhere else.

Suddenly they were outside and Hob was blindsided by the fact that he was seeing his stranger- seeing Dream- in the hues of a fading twilight. Not low burning candles, not lanterns, not harsh light bulbs (not dark, unforgiving rain). Just the slowly fading light of the sun as it sunk to make way for moonlight.

And Dream was standing beside him, bathed in oranges and blues, blinking slowly and waiting. Waiting for Hob to show him where to go, waiting to follow Hob because he chose to trust that Hob would not lead him astray. And Hob thought “Oh, I love him so,” and was quietly grateful that it was not a daydream. It was just a fact.

After that they began to meet in other places, other cafes or bars, sometimes just walking winding paths through the city, and Dream began to visit even more frequently and Hob fell even more in love, which he hadn’t thought possible after 600 years. He supposed before he had only been in love with an outline, a paper-cutout that Hob could only see the shadows of. Now he sees so much more of him, sees him, knows the things that make him smile and the things that make him flinch and the things that make him slam shut like an iron gate and the things that coax him out again.

It was outside, in the dark of night when Dream was accompanying Hob back to his flat, when it finally happened. They were just outside Hob’s door, darkness hiding much of Dream’s face and figure, and maybe that was what allowed him the strength to reach out and take Hob’s hand before he could pull his keys out.

“Hob,” he said his name on a breath, and there was something sad there that Hob couldn’t wrap his head around, “You are. My friend.”

He said it as a statement, but Hob nodded in answer anyway, “Of course.”

Dream nodded in return, “And…” his voice dropped and his gaze lowered, “I love you.”

Hob’s only regret from that night is that he took so long to answer.

Dream had just begun to pull away, shadows shifting along his neck as he swallowed thickly, and then it all caught up to Hob and he was grabbing Dream’s other hand, tugging him close and placing a clumsy kiss against his lips.

“I love you too,” he whispered against his lips, and he wanted to say more but all he felt capable of in the moment was kissing Dream harder.

Now he has been spoiled, and Hob has become greedy for his lover’s time. Any moment he can spare Hob will grasp with both hands and still want for more.

But, he sighs to himself, Dream had been pulled away pretty suddenly during breakfast. Matthew had arrived looking ruffled and speaking of strange earthquakes, and Dream had of course departed swiftly to ensure his realm’s safety, giving Hob a chaste kiss before vanishing in a swirl of sand.

Well into the afternoon of the next day now, and still with no word from Dream, Hob figures it was probably a more complex problem that Dream will need to take some time to sort out. Hob understands his boyfriend has a great responsibility.

He still misses him though.

Nothing for it but to distract himself he supposes. He had done a light cleaning of the kitchen after lunch, and he didn’t feel like working, so instead he sat on his couch with an old paperback that had been recommended to him by one of the New Inn’s bartenders and figured it was a nice day for reading by the window, letting the sun illuminate the pages. The hours pass peacefully, just tea and reading, the sounds of the city a pleasant, muffled white noise through the window, and the book actually is quite fun- cheesy action and romance but in the best way.

Hob is just getting to the good part when there’s a knock on his door.

Whipping his head up, Hob narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Dream always just appeared in his flat, and his mortal friends always call or text before coming over. Door-to-door salesmen aren’t really a thing anymore, so that’s crossed off the list of possibilities. Standing slowly, he steeled himself to answer, trying to appear normal while also bracing himself for any sort of danger that might have found its way to him.

When he finally opens the door, he sighs in relief when he sees Death.

“Christ, I was nervous there for a second,” he chuckled, “What brings you here, Death? I certainly didn’t call for you,” he quipped.

But the joke fell flat, and he suddenly became aware of the tight, strained look on Death’s face, her smile clearly fake, “Hello Hob. Sorry to barge in like this, but. I was hoping you could help us out.”

Hob opens his mouth to say ‘anything, whatever you need,’ but the words die in his mouth as Death steps to the side, revealing a small figure behind her.

It is clearly a child.

And that child is clearly Dream.

(Read the rest on AO3)

#the sanmdan #dreamling #my writing #other people's art #centennial husbands #centennial husbands big bang

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saturnville · 7 months

Note

Can you write a fic where John and Amelia meet each other’s families?

promise of love, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x amelia mae

content: john meets amelia's parents, but one of them is reluctant to give him their blessing.

an: hope you enjoyed, anon!

tags: to maintain your place on the taglist, you're expected to interact! @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

“I believe any man that she is with should be bringing something to her life. If you aren’t a positive addition to her life, then what are you? What are you contributing to her life?”

Amelia’s eyes closed at the question of her father. Her chest heaved as her heart rate increased. She prayed like a saint day and night, begging God to ensure that the meeting would be beneficial, filled with love and understanding. Yet, the tension was thicker than the snow outside.

Thankfully, Amelia’s mother adored John; she welcomed him with a warm hug and gentle kiss. His charm swept her mother off her feet and had her just as weak in the knees as Amelia often found herself to be. Her father was the opposite. His stare was stone cold and his handshake was stiff. The one thing she wanted to avoid, failed to be avoided.

Amelia glanced at her lover, who seemed not affected by the stoic nature of her father. John Egan was a soldier. He wasn’t easily intimidated. He was strong mentally, emotionally, and physically. He knew how to fight for what he wanted and was trained to never back down from a challenge. With a soft sigh, John leaned pressed his back against the wooden chair.

“With all due respect, sir,” he started. Amelia inhaled sharply. “Relationships are necessary in every aspect of life. You know, you learn, grow, and experience life with another person on a deeper level. Amelia doesn’t need me at all; if anything I need her. I can’t offer her a million dollars and the newest car, but I can give her the love, honor, and respect she deserves. She’s the most important person in my life and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. I swear by my life.”

Amelia's father remained silent, his stern expression unchanged. He recognized where Amelia got her strong gaze from. Her father’s deep eyes bore into John's much lighter ones with an intensity that could intimidate even the bravest of souls. Yet, John held his ground, his gaze unwavering as he spoke from the depths of his heart. Amelia felt a mixture of anxiety and pride swell within her chest, grateful for John's unwavering commitment to her. Her hand dropped to his thigh, giving him a reassuring caress.

After what felt like an eternity, her father finally spoke, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of begrudging respect. "Words are easy, son. Actions speak louder. You say you'll honor and respect my daughter, but can you prove it?"

Without hesitation, John met her father's gaze head-on. "Sir, I understand that trust is earned, not given. I may not have all the answers now, but I promise to show you through my actions that I am worthy of your daughter's love and trust. I'll stand by her side through thick and thin, and I'll do whatever it takes to make her happy."

Amelia's heart swelled with uinsung pride. She reached out and gently squeezed his hand, silently conveying her gratitude and love. In that moment, she knew that no matter the challenges they faced, they would overcome them together.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother nod in approval. Slowly, his father did the same, saying lowly, “I hold you to that, son.”

John nodded. “Yes sir, you’ve got my word.”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Amelia said slowly with a small smile. She pointed toward the velvety dessert in the middle of the table. “Cake?”

Amelia's invitation to broke the tension in the room, providing a much-needed moment of levity. John flashed a grateful smile at her, relieved to move past the intense scrutiny of her father. With a nod, he accepted the offer, knowing that this simple gesture was a step towards building a bridge between himself and Amelia's family.

Soon, the atmosphere softened, filled with the warmth of familial love and acceptance. Amelia's mother beamed at the sight of her daughter and John, her heart filled with joy at seeing her child happy and loved.

With a sense of hope and commitment, John reached for Amelia's hand, intertwining their fingers as they shared a silent vow to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

With her father's reluctant approval and her mother's warm encouragement, Amelia felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that John was the one for her, and together, they would navigate the complexities of life no matter what.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #mota #mota fanfiction #mota fanfic #mastersoftheair #masters of the air #major john egan x black!reader #major john egan x reader #major john egan x amelia mae egan #major john egan #bucky egan x black reader #bucky egan x reader #bucky egan #gale cleven #curt biddick #john egan x reader

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idesofrevolution · 1 year

Text

My Best Friend, the Ghost

It was the best feeling in the world. Picture this: a simple spread of the legs in the summer heat, sweat dripping from your forehead. You feel a cool, slick touch slide down your inner thigh. It feels almost slimy, though it leaves no residue as it inches toward your taint and ever closer to your rear. You gasp as it circles the tight hole, as if an expert were rimming you with their cold, wet tongue. Then, quickly, a gentle thrust. You feel it enter you, slithering slowly, intentionally. It begins to fill you, that frosty ooze spreading all throughout your body. Your breath is laboured, as you begin to contort and expand as it is overtaken, washed and inundated with this foreign substance bubbling beneath your skin. It pushes up your throat, choking you, taking the last of your breath away before it presses at the top palate of your mouth. It would feel almost like drowning, though your sensations only fire endorphin after endorphin of euphoria. Pressure builds as it presses harder and harder, until... pop. The hard palate gives way as it rushes and balloons into your head. Thoughts and stresses fade away, and you're left in a state of total ecstasy as your body begins to move on its own.

Fuckin' amazing, am I right? Well, guess what? I get that incomprehensible experience whenever the hell I want. Perks of living in a haunted apartment! Confused? Let me explain.

I moved to New Orleans a year ago, give or take a couple of months. I graduated college, and after testing out a couple of places that didn't really pan out for me, I landed in the cement swamp in the height of the summer. I'd just left Salt Lake City, so coming from the tepid air of Utah to the brick wall humidity of Louisiana was a lot. Yet, I was determined to make the best of this one. I'd secured a low-level office gig at a non-profit, and rented out a cheap two bedroom just outside the French Quarter. The house was one of those old shotgun-style places. It wasn't well maintained, frankly incomprehensibly so to be up to purpose for a tenant, though I was still paying an arm and a leg.

The first few nights, I didn't sleep super well. It was hot, I was sleeping on a hard air mattress, and the tall ceilings and old wooden floors made every little creak and groan of the house sound like some demonic entity moaning in the darkness just out of sight. At the time, I was resolved to believe such a rational theory. After all, ghosts aren't real. That recent college graduate sensibility: anything can be rationalized. Looking back, I scoff at what I thought I knew compared to what I know now. But that skeptic within me was what I relied on. It got me through my courses, it got me my job, it is what guided me through the insanity of life. So, as more peculiar occurrences began to happen, that is precisely the lens with which I saw the world.

When things started to go missing: my trusty running shoes, a pair of underwear, my gold chain, my laptop, even my keys, it was just me being forgetful. I took my Adderall and just ordered new things. I hunkered down and just focused on my work. When I heard scratching in the walls at night, footsteps down my hallway, quiet breaths echoing in the shadows... I was just sleep deprived, I took my Xanax and zonked myself out. Those dark shadows that crept around the corners just on the edge of my peripherals? Eye floaters, nothing more. Though, after about two weeks of just a miserable living experience, I finally experienced something I couldn't rationalize.

It was after a soul sucking day at the office, having spent all day sifting through piles of meaningless paperwork to the grating click clack of my coworkers silently typing on their keyboards like mindless drones. I'd gone into overtime that day, and after five or six cups of coffee, I can't say I was even remotely physically tired that evening. My mind, of course, was entirely devoid of functionality. Walking through my front door, tossing my keys in the little dish by the door, I collapsed onto my couch and just scrolled through Netflix, looking for nothing in particular. That's when I saw it. I'd turned to grab my vape pen from the side table, and my glance had grazed past the mirror which hung above my mantle. Floating behind me, clear as day in the mirror, was a figure. It was larger than I, big broad shoulders and pecs, tapering down to a narrow waist, flanked on either side by two muscled arms. It's face was chiseled and sharp, brows furrowed, golden eyes narrowed and full lips twisted in a mischievous smirk. It had no legs; rather, its body was condensed into a long whippy tail. Most notably, I would argue, was the... well... rather sizeable phallus which stood erect above it's navel, with two grapefruit sized balls hanging beneath it.

I sat frozen, unable to look away from it sizing me up in the mirror's reflection. All the other things I could make sense of in my head were obliterated at the sight of what was merely inches behind me, and inches above the floor. I finally found the strength to merely exhale, letting a soft billowing cloud of breath out of my mouth. It was the middle of June, and perhaps 91 Fahrenheit outside. It was impossible. Everything about what my eyes were seeing was impossible. As it began to creep toward me, I fully expected to spin around and like every haunted house movie of all time, there would be nothing there. Though as I whipped my head to look behind, no such luck. I was face to face with it. It was grinning as we were nose to nose. Bringing it's cool, ghostly hand to my cheek, it caressed it with the back of its fingers and winked at me.

"Hey there." It's voice boomed like a timpani, yet it's timbre was gravelly and suave. I couldn't help myself. In a primal state of panic, I shrieked a terrified scream. It didn't last long. The spirit seized the opportunity I was entirely unaware I had given it- quickly shoving it's head into my open mouth. The force by which it had taken me was overwhelming, though I suppose with it's sheer size, in retrospect it makes perfect sense. I was flung down into the cushions of the couch, as it pushed itself into me. I grasped at my throat, which was bulging from the thing which was now flooding down my gaping maw. I could hear it laugh from within me as it squeezed itself in, it's massive upper body condensing in on itself and slowly pushing deep into my gut. My stomach ballooned out, stretching as if it were rubber while it's tail whipped aimlessly against my face before it slipped between my lips.

This was the first time I felt the sensation. The euphoria. The cascading waterfall of endorphins as my body was contorting and stretching as the ghost slipped me on like a suit. I could feel it thrusting it's hands into my arms which expanded and stretched to accommodate the spirit's size. I could feel my chest burst through my shirt, with two jiggling pecs now engorged with it's essence. I could feel my thighs and calves swell with thick muscle, and my feet lengthen and explode through my socks. It was as if someone had taken a water hose and filled me like a balloon, and as I felt it's head rising up my throat one last time and slither into my head, I can't say I wasn't in the throws of intense and indescribable bliss. My eyes opened, I was no longer in the driver's seat.

"Ahhh fuck." It's voice boomed out of my mouth as I found my body moving of it's own accord. No, rather moving of his accord. I stood up, feeling my jiggling muscles slowly firm up and tighten as I walked to the mirror. The thing which wore me as a suit was checking itself out! It had my skin, my face, but otherwise I was unrecognizable. I was indeed approaching 6' 4", my jawline was square and chiseled, my arms as large as my head, my feet probably a size 16, and my... appendage? Let's just say he was now an anaconda snaking down my thigh, his hood restored and flanked on either side by an impressive bulbous sac. "Shit, that feels nice." My voice was soft like velvet, but frayed with a coarseness which tickled the mind like sandpaper. It stretched my muscles and cracked my neck and knuckles before finally bothering to introduce itself. "Name's Antoine, nice to meet ya." My hand slinked down to my member giving it a playful tug. "Actually, tonight, your name is Antoine too, baby." He smiled with my pearly white teeth, and it would be an outright lie to deny I was not eager to see what this Antoine would be using me to do that night. We sauntered over to my bedroom, tossing shirts and pants out of my drawers before he found some shorts and a tank top that fit my new musculature whatsoever. I had but only one pair of sandals that he could force my massive feet into, but neither he nor I could care less. As walked to the front door, and stepped out into the humid New Orleans air, he took a deep breath with my borrowed lungs, sighing in satisfaction. "Aight, my man. Let's see what kind of trouble we can get in tonight."

Thus began our mutual understanding. Our partnership. Frankly, our friendship. That night was one filled with club hopping across town, hitting dancefloors right and left, drinking outrageous amounts of liquor, grinding on sexy men with our tongue down their throats... None of which I would have ever experienced on my own. It was an entire world I knew nothing about, nothing I could have ever imagined myself doing, but with Antoine it seemed like second nature. After a night of debauchery and a tryst in some leather daddy's hotel room, he returned near the crack of dawn, collapsing onto my bed in a sweaty, swampy heap. He closed my eyes and almost immediately afterward I reopened them. The sun had risen, and peering at my phone, it was then 9 AM.

For a moment, I sat there and stared at the ceiling. I waited for my body to move on his command, though when it didn't, I whipped my sheets off to see that I had returned mostly to my former stature. I did note that I had grown ever so slightly. Perhaps his presence within me had left some residual effects on my body, a pleasant fact of which I did not mind whatsoever. I sat up, stretching my arms above my head, a wet warm musk wafting from my sweaty pits and steamy feet from the night before. For the first time, I found myself rather enjoying the scent... Where it once used to make me grimace with disgust, it now made me nearly salivate at the slightest tickle on my nose. I peered to the corner of the room, where now even in broad daylight I could see Antoine's spectral self floating above the floorboards, his arms crossed and his bright smile greeting me in the morning light.

We stared at eachother for a mere moment, before I smiled back at him. It didn't take words for us to understand what was to soon come to pass. Frankly, from then on, it was an unspoken pact. An inseparable bond, bound by an awakened hedonism and carnal desire. Starting that morning, our boys night out became a regular occurrence. I'd get home from work, exhausted and tired from a thankless day of grinding in the soulless office, and we would come up with a plan for the evening. He'd take his time slipping into me, knowing full well just how much I enjoyed each breathtaking second of it. In fact, we took a Saturday to go shopping for "night clothes" which would actually fit us when he was inside me.

Antoine was a bit of a casanova, able to make any person he met swoon with a single glance. The parade of men strutting the walk of shame out of my home every morning did not go unnoticed by my neighbors, not that they particularly seemed to care. It was the spirit of New Orleans, live every day like it's your last. That sentiment was instilled in me, along with a new attitude. I began to care less and less about this dead end job which had only gotten more and more unbearable as our relationship grew. My boss began to notice this as well. He noticed that my productivity had slipped, that I'd begun to come into work with more and more tattoos (which were admittedly against company policy), that my musky scent was becoming stronger and more apparent, that I'd become more casual and laid back, that I was trying to force myself into work clothes that were increasingly more and more revealing as my body grew toned and large. This, to him at least, was unacceptable. I don't entirely recall what it was that finally set him off, though I think it may have had something to do with me having my feet up on my desk as I took calls and the delicious pheromones to which my coworkers had taken a liking to. Something to do with my cubicle mate Daniel lapping up the pungent sweat from my socks beneath my desk as I worked. Couldn't say. Either way, it was the last straw for me.

It wasn't much of a loss, as my frequent appearances at the clubs, or rather my appearance altogether, which the bar owners had taken notice of. I had a line of bartending and gogo boy offers to take up in it's stead. Though, it wouldn't be enough to cover the rent on my own. Thus, we hatched a plan. A solution to both our issues: my financial one, and a more permanent solution for Antoine.

It was an average night in the French Quarter, we were behind the bar, and there before us appeared our solution sitting on a stool near the drink well. He was a tourist, a particularly needy and rude one at that. No friends, failing every attempt to snag the attention of our regular hustlers with his more than lacklustre personality. He was perfect. It wasn't difficult to play into his inflated ego, all it took was playing into his cringeworthy advances and unwelcomed touches before he was licking our pits and nipples, ready to head to our place. A lack of a tip was the final nail in the coffin, we were ready. The 'three' of us stumbled back to our apartment, and it took merely five minutes of making out before the drunken asshole had passed out in our bed.

Walking back into the living room, Antoine regurgitated himself out of me. Feeling him exit was always a bittersweet experience, euphoric in sensation but longing in sentiment. He floated in front of me, winking as he compressed himself under the door of our bedroom, slipping in with a quiet pop. Wiping the sweat from my brow, and taking a deep whiff of my dank sneaker like degenerate scent pig I'd become, I popped open a bottle of our nicer tequila to celebrate. As the yellow liquor began to pour into the glass, I heard the delightful sounds of possession begin to loudly bellow out from behind the closed door. A shriek, followed by squeaks and rubbery creaks atop elated moaning and gasping. Taking the two glasses, I meandered over to the couch, kicking my wafting, wet feet up onto the coffee table and grabbing the bong to pack a nice bowl.

The sounds of inflation and gargling, stretching skin and growing muscle were like candy to my ears, as I wondered what Antoine would look like. The guy was less than ideal before, though as a host, the sky was the limit to how gorgeous he was going to be. I lit the bowl, taking a deep drag before blowing an adequate cloud. Antoine's moans got louder and louder, his voice all the more recognizable as it progressed. One more puff from the bong and the sound of that final pop soared through the air. The house was silent apart from the heavy panting quietly emanating from the bedroom.

I sat there for a solid moment. He always was the master of the tease, knowing full well that I awaited his reveal. I could hear his chuckling before I heard the click of the lock on the door. Slowly, I stood up and walked to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. Nothing. I grabbed ahold of the doorknob with bated breath, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. The lights were on in the bedroom, and there in front of the mirror taking a selfie with his host's phone was my Antoine.

He was better than I ever could have imagined. That lanky, sad excuse for a man was long gone and in his stead stood the dreamiest hunk I'd ever set my eyes on. Our bodies were nearly identical in stature, as over the past several months he'd completely stretched me out to his own measurements. Though, his delicious golden eyes on that gorgeous, masculine face sent me over the edge. He was stacked, he was tall, he was caramel, he was packing down there, and he wafted that buttery, salty musk that made me drool. All he needed to do was to turn to me and wink in his new body and I felt myself harden.

"What's up, baby boy?" He flexed his massive arms, seductively licking his sweaty bicep for me. Let's just say that tequila and that bowl were still there the next day. We were rather preoccupied throughout the dawn, the morning, the afternoon, the evening... Endless hours of carnal pleasures and sensual overload. Simply washing the bedsheets of our intertwined cum imbued into the very threads of the fabric took longer than expected. I imagine you get the picture, so needless to say, such days were and continue to be frequent.

I suppose that brings us to today. As I sit here and write out how we got to this very moment, waiting for an Uber to take us to our honeymoon, I'll go ahead and mention that my former boss just walked by us, feigning pleasantries as if we were old buddies. Asking if now that I had a partner, I was finally ready to knuckle down and come back to work in a 'real job.' I turned to Antoine, he turned to me, and as we found our hands sliding toward eachother's growing bulges, basking in eachother's beguiling musk while my frump of an old boss indignantly watched, I flipped him the bird.

He stomped off, I doubt I'll ever see him again. Why should I need to? I have my man, I have our future, we have all the delicious men of this raunchy city to enjoy... What else can a guy ask for?

#male possession #male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #jockification #musk #gay transformation #male tf #ghost possession #bad boy transformation #body possession #gay possession #jock possession #muscle tf #jock tf #nerd to jock

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mummers-of-the-heart · 6 months

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To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.

#a play to the heart from ota #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #SoundCloud #fan fiction #hurt/comfort #sad vibes

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landwriter · 2 years

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1589 got me feeling&rambling and I'm so sorry beforehand that I can't keep it short and simple, as would probably befit the thing. Feel free to ignore if not interesting to you, still you are the one that comes to mind when thinking about Hob being morally grey.

That scene is always so painful to watch, mostly because Hob is behaving like such a sorry fool. He has really decked himself out to impress his stranger and misses the mark so dramatically.

(Whereas Dream seemingly has not held back either - I mean it's easily his hottest look, you can't tell me he didn't mean to make a lasting impression. So much disappointment on both sides.)

Cringe Hob as part of the dark Hob spectrum, his self-importance/selfishness showing - of course it's not pure fun to watch, but I'm always so fascinated by that flicker of pain (foreshadowing shame) that comes right to the surface in all his put on show, just before he orders the lamb. The contrast makes for a very intense moment, imo. And I am wondering, has he really left all of this behind by 1889? Or is he simply more smooth by that time (that's what I'm getting from the show) ? In fanfics his flaws are mostly depicted as minor or serving a good end in modern times, he is always such a goodie by then (and I love him, of course). But can we imagine just a trace of more questionable/offputting Hob in the mix (if only on impulse) - to be clear, I have no idea how that would work. Or should we just be grateful that that lies behind him (it certainly makes for a much more likeable character and a nicer love story)?

(me force feeding myself more of the horrible stuff I just wanted to avoid looking at)

It's a beautiful contrast: opulence and insecurity. Success and asking still for validation. I have Thoughts on each meeting (please send me asks about them) - ostensibly the very first fannish thing I did for this show, and also in my adult life, was rewatch the meetings and pause constantly and take - oh holy Christ over 4,000 words of notes.

I propose Hob is not acting like a sorry fool. Sure, some bits are clearly played for comedy. Hob is selfish, self-important, and given to hedonism. He is concerned primarily with his own comfort and the personal pleasures of life. But I blame 1589 pretty solidly on Dream. In 1489, after being asked what his experience is like, he answers Dream with an inarticulate statement spoken by a true person who just Digs The Experience of Experiencing: it's 'fucking brilliant' and 'all changing'. Dream asks how, Hob literally looks around the room like a student who forgot an essay was due, and names chimneys and playing cards. Handkerchiefs. Simple things - still sensual things - but simple ones. Certainly no sociopolitical discourse here. What will you people think of next, says Dream, deeply sarcastic and visibly disinterested. And Dream also asks him: but what is Hob doing with his time? This, too, he is under-prepared to answer. Soldiering, banditry, bit of printing press work. Hardly enough to impress this supernatural lord, and Hob can tell.

When he is granted, explicitly, another 100 years by Dream, it is not only a relief, but I think a part of Hob squares its jaw in that moment and says: I'll show him - I'll show him what I can do in a century, I'll earn his pleased regard. Not necessarily because he's even, you know, madly in love at this point, but because he's in it for the living, does not intrinsically have great ambitions, but does have someone who has a) seemingly granted him this greatest gift and b) is unimpressed with what he's doing with it. And he's lost everyone he knew. Dream is now his oldest acquaintance, and wouldn't it be nice if he liked Hob?

He knows only the language of what impresses other men, and this is what he achieves. But to Dream, both Hob's socially-valued successes and his deeply personal ones are terrifically uninteresting. They are not New Dreams To Spur The Minds Of Men. There is no new story in a man seeking fortune and having a wife and a child he loves. He is ancient as the first dreaming thing, and he is Bored. He is, in fact, soured on this meeting from the outset, when he says "Hello, Hob," which on my watch struck me, apparently, as extremely bizarre and of having a real air of Hob being In Trouble. (The only other times Dream says his name are at the first, looming and omniscient, and in 1789, - 'I suggest you find yourself a different line of business, Robert Gadling'. He does not say it at their modern meeting.)

I mean - how would you impress someone? Someone who was interested in your deeds? Putting on a nice little dinner and catching them up on your life, talking about your family, seems a decent enough shout. It's not like you can ask him about his life, he won't offer information when asked and only sometimes will correct you if you venture your own guesses. (see also: 1889 foreshadowing) Hob is feeling proud and triumphant, feeling like he's come far. He is obviously a bit obnoxious about it, but I do think Dream shows off his flaws far more in 1589 than Hob does.

Hob's greatest sin, here, is trying to be liked. His greatest regret is almost certainly not the spread he put on, but the moment he was really, truly, earnest - not underscored even by a subsequent joke - the moment he declaims that this is what he had imagined Heaven to be like (safe enough to walk the streets; good food; good wine) - Life is so rich, he says - and Dream looks away to listen to Will Shaxberd, and we watch real time as Hob's expression collapses. He had leaned forward nearly out of his chair in enthusiasm, and now he shrinks back, reminded again of the dangers of earnestness: being alone in it. Being ignored. Better to make a joke of things, which is why he tells so many around Dream, especially after being more open - it's clearly a matter of habit. (It is also, incidentally, absolutely unappealing to Dream, who really and truly looks at him for the first time in 1689, when he is stripped of the social niceties of men and reigns nothing in.) He eats. He frets. He has had another century, and he has failed to impress the stranger.

The worst moment, I think, is that Dream does not renew their compact. He does not ask Hob if he still wishes to live, and Hob does not get the opportunity to say "Oh, yes." He was given this gift for one reason: the stranger was curious about his experiences. Does the stranger seem still curious about him now? I wonder, honestly, if Hob thought he would see another meeting.

Has he really left that all behind by 1889? No - you hear it in his own words, 'People are almost always better than you think they are.' - the earnesty, and then the joke - 'Not me, though, still the same as ever.' Except it's not really a joke, is it? Hob is saying to Dream, I know you don't think much of me, well, I don't pretend to think much of myself. He still wants Dream's validation, of course, he's just trying to earn it differently. (It goes poorly.) He's smoother, but also more frustrated, more fed up, more hungry for knowledge of his stranger; and I think that's such an interesting point in time for him. I think he leaves little behind, and what he does leave behind, he dreams of. He's changed so much and so little, and I think you could really go in whatever direction you want depicting that and be convincing.

I can't speak to the fanon on Hob's flaws because I don't read nearly as much as I wish I could. While I don't personally think 1589 Hob was actually that questionable or offputting - at least no more than most people would be in that situation - I would love to see a modern fic where has the same flaws he's always had, where they come up maybe different than they would have several centuries ago, but they absolutely exist, it does have plot consequences. Bonus points if he is not being offputting for the purposes of rescuing Dream from the fishbowl - if his flaws exist independent of his relationship with Dream altogether. Bonus bonus points if Hob is the one whose character development needs to be developed and Dream is in a better place than he is. If anyone has fic recs feel free to drop them in the comments!

P.S. 1589 Dream, wow, yes, for sure. 10/10 would babble and get walked out on

#the sandman #dreamling #century meetings #meta #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the amount of them just not understanding what the other person wants or is offering at first is incredible #1489 #1589 #an essay #i really do think the dynamics in the first few meetings are SO INTERESTING and precarious

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reds-skull · 4 months

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Revenant Side Stories

Story II: Graves

[Story 1 - Konchar] [AO3]

Ah yes, the oneshot I promised 4 months ago. I got sidetracked with bloodhunger, and I'm still busy with uni (when am I not...), but I finally found time to write Graves' story! I'll be honest, I kinda procrastinated on this because I wasn't sure I would be able to really capture his voice correctly, but I like how this turned out.

I got a few more characters on the list for side stories, but if you're interested in seeing anyone in particular, you're welcome to suggest them!

“You’re such a piece of shit, Graves!”

Philip smiles as wide as his mouth full of dry MRE cake allows him to, “I know you’re the one that put boot polish inside my shoes two weeks ago, Collins. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Collins’ face twists in anger, in a way that is quite satisfying to him, “I was fuckin’ saving that cake for after the op.”

“I know.” Philip swallows, grin finally able to stretch across his face. Collin doesn’t grace him with another reply, instead stomping away while muttering curses under his breath. Serves him right.

He leans back against the armored truck they’ll use for infil, in about half an hour from now. He’s been ready far before that, always the first on the tarmac. He has to, if he wants to be in his superior officers’ good graces, if he wants that promotion.

Being a Corporal is nice and all, but Philip aims higher than that. He thinks – no, knows he wasn’t made to follow orders till the day he dies. No, he’s much better suited to command, to lead, to make the final call.

He just needs to make the higher brass see that as well.

Among the buzzing activity of the final preparations for the upcoming operation, Philip spots Lieutenant Reed inspecting a crate of equipment. The man is build like a shit brick house, all 6’4 inches of pure muscle. That’s not to mention the Lieutenant’s special little revenant status, which makes sure that even if you manage to shoot the giant bastard, he’ll get back up quicker than any human being should. Apparently, healing powers are quite common for soldier revenants, not that it matters when their kind is as rare as it is.

A pang of jealousy shoots through him, at the sheer power the man clearly exudes just by standing there. It goes away quickly enough.

Lieutenant Reed is a great commander, don’t get him wrong, but Philip always thought he was too… caught up by his own moral compass. More concerned with doing what’s just, instead of doing what’s right. Admirable, but dangerous on the field.

A man who puts his and his squad’s life over the mission, is not a man who will go far. A man that puts things like righteousness over the mission…

Philip pities him, really. Reed could’ve been a General by now, if he understood that. But he’s grateful, in a way, that the Lieutenant is the way he is, to teach him this lesson.

The Lieutenant’s eyes meet his, and he motions with his head to move. He ruminated around long enough – time to get to work.

The mission is simple, a milk run, really. When he enlisted, Philip expected to be constantly fighting, to truly feel with each shot how he changes things in the world.

He sure didn’t expect to be loaded up in the back of a truck with five other soldiers, and act as basically a glorified delivery man, transporting gear to an American base in another part of a foreign country.

Those were the fantasies of a younger, stupider Philip. He now knows just how much is required to upkeep a base, both from first-hand experience and from his studies on his time off. After all, being the best doesn’t only come down to his physical abilities, it demands the best mind, the strongest will, the smartest of tactics.

This means he’s got less time to socialize with the soldiers in his unit, but he’s truly not mourning that. They seem like a bunch of idiots anyway. It only motivates him further to get the next promotion, if only to get away from them.

The downside to that, is that Philip barely knows the last names of the people currently in the truck with him. Lieutenant Reed is in a truck ahead of theirs, his rank high enough to grant him the privilege of not being shoved between crates and sweaty recruits.

Philip keeps half of his attention on the low conversation between the soldiers next to him, scanning the empty, dry grasslands surrounding the road.

“Heard the fellas up north have been attacked, last time a convoy went through.” a soldier he thinks might be Johnson murmurs.

Collins answers from the other side of the truck, “yup, I got a friend there. Two from his unit died.”

Maybe-Johnson shakes his head with a huff, “fuckin’ gangs man… The US might as well fund them, with the amount of supplies they drive right to their doorstep…”

“Think we’ll meet them today?” another soldier joins (Gonzalez? Fuck if he knows).

“If we do, I’m going to wipe ‘em out.” Collins grins, and Philip has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t wipe out his grandma, let alone several trained gang members. “‘Sides” he continues, “we got the LT on our side.”

Gonzalez (???) laughs, “damn right we do! Can’t kill a man twice, can ya?”

Philip internally groans, jaw tightening. They think Reed is some sort of immortal, just because he died once and survived. A fucking bullet to the head would kill him all the same. The only thing the Lieutenant is truly invincible from is infection and diseases - what originally killed him. If any of these bastards ever bothered to pick up a book, they’d know that.

He apparently didn’t manage to school his features well enough, since Collins turns to address him, “what’s with the face, Graves?”

Philip does roll his eyes this time, “just because Reed is a revenant doesn’t mean y’all can just sit back and relax, he’s just one person.”

The road they’re on cuts through a hill, casting long shadows over them.

“Yeah, a person that heals from a stab wound in half an hour!”

“Those are just rumors.” Philip spits, “have any of you ever looked at the actual reports??”

A few soldiers groan as Collins answers, “not all of us are fuckin’ suckups, bro.”

Philip watches the lot of them laugh, a sharp smile slowly spreading on his lips, “not all of us are going to become Sergeants, bro.”

The laughter dies, Collins’ face twists in anger familiarly, “you’ve always been a piece of shit-”

The world becomes bright white for a moment, screams Philip later registers as his own rip out of his chest as the truck swerves and crashes.

His ears ring, limbs refusing to listen to his orders. “Hrgh… shit…” he forces his eyes open, as his hearing returns.

Gunshots flash between the wreckage and the top of the hills, soldiers taking cover behind the upturned truck. It seems like he was the only one blown away this far.

The fuckin’ gang must’ve hit him directly. Just his damn luck.

Philip tries to crawl forward, not particularly keen on staying alone with no cover, but even that small movement shoots intense pain through his body, his vision darkening for a few seconds. He winces, carefully turning to look at his torso and legs.

He swallows down the bile rising to his mouth, blinking down at the deep craters at his right hip. That… can’t be his own body, right? He thinks he sees bone.

Another RPG whistles through the air, missing the truck by only a few feet. His squad turns around, shooting down the gang members attempting to corner them from their flank.

He needs to get to them. They should have enough knowledge of first aid to at least stop the bleeding, or give him a stim shot, fuckin’ anything!

Philip starts screaming, “HELP!!! I’M STILL ALIVE!!!!!” he grits his teeth, desperation starting to crack his voice as he realizes he might actually die here, “COLLINS!!! GONZALEZ!!! HELP!!!!!”

Hope bubbles within him when he sees Collins turn his head to his direction, searching for the source of the shouts in the shadows. Philip raises his arm as far as he can, waving it to catch Collins’ attention.

He thinks it might be the first time he ever felt actual happiness to see Collins’ stupid green eyes lock onto his.

“I CAN’T MOVE, YOU GOTTA FUCKIN’ HELP ME!” he yells, pointing to his right leg.

Collins’ eyes trail down, to the puddle of blood coloring the grass under Philip red. He lifts a hand to his comms, mouth moving too fast for him to read.

He must’ve reported his condition to Reed. Collins is not completely useless, Philip muses.

Collins nods in response to whatever Reed told him, and Philip’s heart drops when he turns away from him, and points to the forest.

They… they’re not gonna run, are they? They’re not gonna leave him here, bathing in his own damn blood, right?!

Yet, that’s exactly what they do. The five soldiers, his own teammates, wait for an opening in the relentless shooting from the hostiles, and run. Without him.

Philip shouts again, anger now booming through his throat, “COLLINS! YOU FUCKING COWARD, COME BACK!!! DON’T LEAVE ME HERE, I’LL DIE!!!!! WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, HELP- HELP ME!!!”

Collins doesn’t even look back once, and Philip watches the figures of his squad disappear between the trees. He screams in frustration, hands shaking in fury.

His mind returns to the moment Collins nodded. Lieutenant Reed… he must’ve told them to disengage. Ordered them to leave him behind to bleed out.

A hysterical laugh shakes his shoulders. So much for ‘no man left behind’, eh, Lieutenant? Fucking hypocrite. Philip hopes that wherever revenants go after they die, Reed will suffer for the rest of his existence.

His laugh devolves into choked sobs when the reality of his situation sinks in. He’s gonna die. He’s going to die because his own team abandoned him.

Philip always knew they were useless, but he expected them to at least not fuckin’ betray him, y’know?

As his vision fades for the last time, Philip smiles. Not because he accepts his fate, no.

But it’s nice to know he was right, the whole damn time.

“Philip Graves”

“Graves”

Philip’s eyes snap open, and he inhales sharply. It takes him a few moments to comprehend he’s not in that damn valley he was abandoned in. He’s… not anywhere on Earth… is he?

His own reflection stares at him, multiplied over countless times, like a hall of mirrors in a carnival. He raises a hand to his right side, pressing tentatively at first, and digging into the muscles when he realizes his wounds have been healed.

…What is this place?

“This is my Realm”

“Realm”

Several voices echo around him, and Philip looks around only to see his own wide blue eyes.

“W-where are you?!” he snarls, fear beating at his heart.

“Up”

He cranes his head up, mouth opening in shock at the creature above him.

A writhing mass of limbs coils onto itself, arms and legs and faces, creating the vague shape of a person. Its face is blank, nothing but a maw.

“You’re… a Reaper…” Philip mutters dumbly.

“The Reaper of Many”

“Many”

The Reaper leans closer, Philip’s body shaking at the sheer scale of it, “so I did d-die.”

He doesn’t know how, but he gets the feeling the Reaper grins at the words.

“YES” “YES” “YES” a terrifying chorus of voices confirms. The twitching limbs seem to move quicker in excitement, “TELL ME, PHILIP GRAVES, WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Philip covers his ears at the screeching Reaper, eyes squeezed shut in agony. In the back of his mind, he remembers the transcript from interviews of revenants, of this very question they all had to respond to.

Of the identical answer they all give.

“I just- I JUST WANT TO LIVE!!!”

Philip’s quick breaths slow down, when the Reaper doesn’t scream again.

“I just want to live…” he repeats, opening his eyes and lowering his arms. After a few moments of nothing, he finds the courage to look up.

The Reaper’s hand is hovering above him, finger uncurled and pointing to him.

“Give me your soul, Philip Graves, and I’ll let you live”

“live”

“LIVE”

Philip nods shakily, “It’s yours, Reaper.”

Giggling bounces between the mirrors surrounding him, gleeful and horrendous. The finger moves closer, Philip leaning back on instinct alone. It feels like his blood is boiling over, brain liquifying into mush, yet he physically can’t open his mouth to scream.

“From this day on, until the day you die, Philip Graves, you are mine.”

“Mine”

“MINE”

The Reaper touches his forehead, his vision flashing with bright colors he doesn’t have a name to.

“My revenant, Revenant of Many”

“Many”

“MANY”

“MA-”

Someone is shaking his arm. Philip pushes away, scrambling back. He opens his eyes.

Something decidedly not human greets him.

“The fuck-” Philip curses.

“The fuck-” the creature answers. It doesn’t have a mouth, or any defining features. Barely a dark shape, like someone cut out the silhouette of a person out of the fabric of reality.

Philip feels an odd presence in his mind, like dozens of eyes looking up at him, awaiting command.

The valley is quiet. He looks up at the hills, finding more shapes lingering, all looking at him. Philip looks back at the one that touched him.

“What are you?”

The shape answers by echoing his voice, “-you?”

Philip breathes out a small laugh, hand carding into his hair in amazement.

His admiration of his new powers is cut short by the sound of an engine. Philip jumps to his feet, body still feeling a phantom pain of sorts, and orders his shapes, “disappear.”

In a blink, the shapes melt away into the shadows. He runs to the woods, taking cover behind a thick tree trunk when the vehicle rolls around the bend into the valley.

Philip’s eyes narrow when he sees that the vehicle is none other than the US military’s. He averts his eyes, scrutinizing the setting sun. It has been at least several hours since Collins and his group of dickheads left him to die.

The vehicle stops near the wreckage, the fire burning the truck long extinguished. Lieutenant Reed out of all people climbs out, instantly ordering his men to clear the area of hostiles. Burning rage ignites within Philip at the sight.

Without his will, the shadows around him materialize, blank faces all staring at him.

He gets an idea. It’s stupid, and frankly will probably put him in a lot more trouble than it’s worth, but honestly Philip literally died a few hours ago and so did his fucks to give.

“Seize them.” he tells his shapes, his Shadows.

The dozen or so Shadows instantly start running, tackling the squad of soldiers. Philip barely contains a laugh at their terrified screams. One of them manages a shot on a Shadow, but the creature simply ignores the gaping hole in his thigh, and wrestles the man down.

Lieutenant Reed needs two Shadows to force him to kneel, but soon enough they all stay down, lined up on the dirt road.

“If this is how it feels to be a revenant, I would be a cocky bastard too”, Philip thinks to himself while looking at Reed.

“Lieutenant, what the fuck are these- these things?!” one soldier asks frantically.

Reed growls, fruitlessly attempting to shake off the Shadow restraining him, “revenant powers. But I’ve never seen something like this-”

Philip chooses this moment to reveal himself, “impressive, aren’t they? I’d say they’re a fair trade to dying, wouldn’t you, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Reed’s face slackens in shock, “...Corporal Graves?”

He smiles unkindly, “the one and only. Tell me…” he crouches in front of Reed, “when you ordered Collins and his group of bumbling idiots to abandon me and run away, did you even feel a speck of remorse? If not for me, at least for my poor mother, that would’ve had to live with the fact the men that were supposed to be on his side left him to die?”

The Lieutenant at least seemed to pretend to be horrified, “I- it was the Commander, not me, Graves. I didn’t make the call to leave you behind, kid-”

Philip cuts him off with a few slow claps, “wow, Lieutenant. I’ve already gathered you’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, but a liar as well? You should’ve been an actor instead of a soldier, sir. You’ve got a natural talent right there.”

His digging remarks only seem to make Reed more guilty, “...I may have not made that order, but I take responsibility over my soldiers. You didn’t deserve to die, Graves. I’m sorry.”

Philip falters at the genuinely heartfelt apology. He didn’t expect Reed to actually be sorry about it. It only twists something in his gut further.

Philip’s voice loses the mocking tone it had before, “you have nothing to apologize for, sir. Without you, I would’ve never received such power.” he spreads his arms, motioning to his Shadows.

Reed’s brows curve upwards, regret painting his features, “really, I should thank you, Lieutenant.”

Philip grins as wide as his mouth allows him, not a lick of joy within it, “thank you, for letting me die alone.”

He knew he’ll get in trouble once he arrives back to base, but he didn’t expect Major Shepherd to be the one disciplining him.

Philip knows to dread the punishment the moment the Major opens the door, his face severe as ever as he dismissed the other officers in the room.

He rises to his feet, saluting the Major, before the man waves him off.

Shepherd takes the sit in front of him, staring him down for a few tense moments before speaking, “Corporal Philip Graves. Do you know how much shit you’ve put yourself into, with that little ‘prank’ you did to Lieutenant Reed and his squad?”

Philip doesn’t shy away from the Major’s burning gaze, “yes sir.”

Shepherd doesn’t look impressed, “the Lieutenant told me about your powers. Which Reaper got you?”

“Reaper of Many, sir.”

“Reaper of Many… can’t say I’ve met a revenant from it.” the Major drawls, “most of your kind belongs to the Reaper of Flesh.”

The one in charge of healing… Reed’s Reaper.

“Your powers are exceptionally strong, Graves.” Shepherd smiles, oddly enough.

Philip blinks, taken off guard by the praise, “... thank you, sir?”

The Major leans back, his demeanor less serious, “no need for formalities right now, Graves. I’d like to speak to you as an equal at the moment.”

…What is the Major’s angle here? He doesn’t seem angry at him anymore.

“About what?”

Shepherd smirks, something about it raising the hairs on Philip’s arms, “What do you see yourself doing, four, five years down the line?”

“...What?”

“Your aspirations, Graves. Aiming for Lieutenant? Captain?”

Philip frowns in confusion, “Commander, sir.”

“Commander, huh?” Shepherd hums, “I have a… proposition for you, Graves.”

Proposition? “I’m listening.”

“What do you think about PMCs?”

The rapid change in topic leaves Philip unsteady in his answers, “they’re… I think they’re necessary, but I’d rather stay with the US military. I want to fight for my country.”

Shepherd looks… disappointed? “Listen, son. I think you’re a great soldier, and you have been given great power to control. People like you… the military will just hold you back.”

Philip inhales deeply. Is Shepherd saying what he thinks he’s saying?

The Major continues, “I think you’ll do much better outside the red tape, Philip.” he pulls out a contract, a frankly absurdly high stack of papers, “I’d like you to work for me. Not as my subordinate, but as a collaborator.”

Philip stares at the papers, “you… you want me to leave the army?”

“Exactly. I want you to become your own PMC. I believe, with your amount of strength, other soldiers will just get in your way.” Shepherd adds, almost like an afterthought, “and you won’t need to worry about any sort of punishment about your actions today, your death will be completely redacted, and the Lieutenant ordered to keep his mouth shut.”

He looks back at the Major’s eyes, deep gratitude welling inside him. Shepherd offers his hand to him, right above the contract that will finally grant him what he worked years for, as easily as writing his own name.

Graves takes the offering, and shakes the Major’s hand.

“My Shadows will be at your service, Shepherd.”

Shepherd smiles, satisfied, “already prepared for your first mission, Commander Graves?”

Commander Graves. He thought it would take years until he was granted the name.

Graves flashes a grin, “was reborn ready, Major.”

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #phillip graves #general shepherd #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #again this wont really make sense if you havent read rev au part 1!#obviously (spoilers) graves is dead by the end of part 1 #but shepherd will definitely be present for part 2... hope you can see his hunger for power here #and his want to keep it for himself #next up will be Gaz!#Price is also on the list but idk when I'll write his...#i got like less than 2 weeks until the year ends and im. stressed. so stressed.#so i dont think youll be seeing me until then

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