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barleyo · 1 year

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Take Me to Church.

Priest! Miguel O'Hara X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Hello, my blessings! I hope you all can see what I was going for with this, I mean, Miguel is Catholic. I also hope this doesn't seem rushed! I'm not very well versed in religion, so I hope none of this comes off as blasphemous or disrespectful. Much love to all of you, and thank you for your continued support!

Wordcount: 3.3K

Tags: Dub-con, loss of virginity, manipulation, p in v, coercion, power dynamic, abuse of power, use of "Father" in a religious way, not an inc*stual way, HEAVY talk of religion (sin, penance, etc.), oral (f receiving), desk fucking, implied age gap

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a devout man, trusting God’s will above anything else, and leading the church to trust just the same. He led them onto a holy path, clear of temptation and sin.

He himself, however, was not free from these temptations. No matter how much he had prayed to clear himself of these thoughts, they still remained. He beseeched God to forgive him for what he had thought, what he had felt.

Nothing seemed to stop his mind from falling into the gutter, especially not her presence.

Lord, forgive him for his sins.

Forgive him for giving into her allurement.

(Y/N) had knocked on Miguel’s office door. Normally, she would refrain and not impose on his valuable time, but for some time, something had bothered her deeply. Having nobody else to turn to, she came to his door, tail figuratively between her legs.

“Father O’Hara? May I come in?”

“Yes, my child, do come in,” he said, his voice kind, yet firm.

She walked in, awkwardly closing the door behind her and standing by the door.

“Please, sit.” He pointed to a chair across from his desk, and removed his small reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose. He removed the small stack of papers that he had been going through off of his desk, turning his full attention to the woman. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Apologies, I don’t mean to take up any of your time, I can see that you’re busy–”

“Nonsense, child. I am never too busy to give assistance to one in need. So?”

“Right, right.” She took a deep breath, clenching her fists in her lap. She quickly started muttering something under her breath before looking up to meet his eyes.

He looked at her with his deep, dark eyes, filled with curiosity. Part of her felt that he could see right to her soul, that he knew exactly why she was there. Perhaps he had known the second it started.

“Come now,” he said, arms crossed over the desk while he looked at her, head slightly tilted, “you are safe here with me. Unburden yourself and your soul, dear girl.”

“Father, I– I believe that I need to look for forgiveness from God.”

“And why would that be?”

“My mind, Father,” (Y/N) said, chewing on the inside of her cheek, pricking blood from the thin skin.

“Ah, a matter of the mind, is it?” His brows furrowed together, creating a small dimpling near his forehead. Shifting in his chair, Miguel straightened his posture, as if he were preparing himself for what she had to say after the fact. “Care to explain further?”

“They’re bad thoughts, sexual in nature. And, I just feel that,” she paused to swallow a lump in her throat, briefly covering her mouth while she did so, “that they plague me.”

He felt his chest tighten. She felt what he had felt, though, he doubted for the same reason.

Miguel hummed, clearing his throat quickly. “Is that so? So, you have been having unwanted sexual thoughts?”

(Y/N) clung onto his words, feeling her face flush when hearing him say it out loud. “Yes, but that isn’t all. I— well, goodness, I’m so embarrassed.” She held her face in one of her hands, looking down at Miguel’s own hands that laid flat on the desk, avoiding his deep gaze.

She felt one of them reach out to lay over one of her hands, even before she could see it happen. Her head tilted up to see his face morph into a look of reassurance.

“Do not let shame stop you from seeking full forgiveness.” Letting his hand linger for a second longer than he knew was acceptable, he slowly inched it away and continued with a sigh. “Speak only the truth, and allow me to guide you into the comfort of God’s shining light. Go on, now.”

“I have given into these desires.” She hung her head, face contorted into an ashamed look, eyebrows knitted together and mouth in a tight, thin line. She sat and waited for him to respond to her confession, but heard nothing. “Father O’Hara…?”

Miguel felt his face grow warm. Unsure if the tightness he felt in his chest was jealousy or judgment, he simply kept quiet, thinking over the woman’s words.

Finally, he spoke, with a slight cracking in his voice, straining out of his throat. “With a man?” he asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.

“No–! No, Father, no, certainly not,” she rushed, trying to clear her name as quickly as possible. “Certainly not, no. It’s not that.”

“Then what have you done?” His heartbeat slowed once more, feeling a bit relieved.

“It was only once, maybe twice, that I’ve done it– touched myself with these thoughts in mind.” (Y/N) absentmindedly rubbed at her temples while she spoke.

He felt a pang of guilt strike his chest as his pants tightened slightly. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t have been excited over this, but how could he control himself?

“It’s perverse and explicit, I cannot go into detail, for my own sake, but just know that my actions have haunted me since, and I just don’t know what to do. Father, I need your help.”

She was weak in her flesh and desire, it would be easy to prey on her, to fulfill his own desires. She was malleable under his guidance, and he knew it. Miguel also knew that what he felt was wrong, but it did not stop him from hesitating to answer her plea, mulling over what to do with his influence. His heart and mind were fighting, passion and righteousness in an entanglement he wasn’t sure his body could host much longer.

“Your sins will be forgiven, as they always will be,” he said, “but you must reach out to God to fight against the base desires that you have given into. We all sin, do we not?”

“We do, yes,” (Y/N) answered, lips coated in shiny spit from her incessant chewing and biting as she tried to keep herself grounded.

Miguel felt his eyes dip to her lips, the clear sheen of saliva practically sparkling in the low light of his office.

“Right, well,” he shook himself out of it, “we all sin, and God makes no exceptions. As long as you seek out his light, his light will shine on you, and you will be forgiven, my dear. Believe in that, and believe in the love God has for you.”

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a man of God. He served God, and only God. He should not think these things, he knew better.

Why couldn’t he keep his mind off of her? Why couldn't he be the holy, resilient man he knew he needed to be?

The second she left his office that day, he could not stop himself. His mind raced while he imagined what she was doing on her evenings alone. It drove him crazy. Had she gone back on what she promised? Was she sinning again, hands between her legs, panties to her knees, wanton moans escaping her spit-soaked, puffy lips?

He thought he was stronger than this, and yet there he was, praying to God for the strength to fight against his urges, urges he had for that sinful, tempting woman. A woman who returned the next week with the same problem.

“I must say, my dear, I am extremely disappointed in you,” he said, standing behind her chair, leaning down to her ear.

He was a hypocrite, and he knew it. He was a sinner, a filthy sinner, and he knew it.

“Father, I–”

“Quiet down.” He placed his finger over her lip, silencing her while he continued. “You have forgotten my words. You trail out of God’s light, do you refuse forgiveness? Do you enjoy this sin?”

“No, Father O’Hara. I’m sorry,” (Y/N) choked a sob back. She felt her tears stream down her face faster than she could wipe them off.

“Penance, I’m afraid, is not a fitting punishment, dear girl. God has not turned away from you, and he never will, but,” he whispered, placing his hand under her chin and forcing him to look at him from her chair, “you must pay for what you have done. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” she sniffed deeply. “What must I do?”

“Do not worry about that, I shall show you. Here,” he stood up straight and tapped on his desk, “sit here.”

(Y/N) followed his directions and sat facing him. “I don’t understand, what will this do?”

Miguel didn’t answer her, instead slotting himself between her legs, kneeling before her and looking up to her through hooded eyes. He pried her legs apart with his hands, pushed her skirt upwards, and leaned in, exhaling against her clothed cunt.

“Look at that,” he nudged the wet patch on the front of her panties. “Is this what your thoughts are about?” he asked, eyes still focused on her heat. “Hm?”

“N-no, no that would be wrong!” She tried to close to her legs, but her hands held them forcefully apart.

“Do not lie in the house of God, my child,” he said flatly.

“This– this is wrong–!” She interrupted her own sentence with a small moan as she felt him lick a stripe of the fabric of her panties.

“There is nothing wrong with me absolving you of your sin, that’s all I am doing. I shall let your sin travel from inside of you to the outside. Do you not want to be free of your evil thoughts?”

A look of confliction flashed on her face. “But we aren’t married, isn’t this sinful in itself?”

“God commands me to take no wife, we are both free from that. It is my duty to guide your soul onto a holy path, won’t you let me do that?” Miguel slipped her panties down to her ankles, waiting for her to answer him.

“Father… please, just please— help me,” (Y/N) said, eyes darting away from him, shame creeping all over her body.

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a man of God. He served God, and only God. He should not think these things, he knew better.

Why couldn’t he keep his mind off of her? Why couldn't he be the holy, resilient man he knew he needed to be?

“I must say, my dear, I am extremely disappointed in you,” he said, standing behind her chair, leaning down to her ear.

He was a hypocrite, and he knew it. He was a sinner, a filthy sinner, and he knew it.

“Father, I–”

“No, Father O’Hara. I’m sorry,” (Y/N) choked a sob back. She felt her tears stream down her face faster than she could wipe them off.

“Penance, I’m afraid, is not a fitting punishment, dear girl. God has not turned away from you, and he never will, but,” he whispered, placing his hand under her chin and forcing her to look at him from her chair, “you must pay for what you have done. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” she sniffed deeply. “What must I do?”

“Do not worry about that, I shall show you. Here,” he stood up straight and tapped on his desk, “sit here.”

(Y/N) followed his directions and sat facing him. “I don’t understand, what will this do?”

“Look at that,” he nudged the wet patch on the front of her panties. “Is this what your thoughts are about?” he asked, eyes still focused on her heat. “Hm?”

“N-no, no that would be wrong!” She tried to close to her legs, but his hands held them forcefully apart.

“Do not lie in the house of God, my child,” he said flatly.

“This– this is wrong–!” She interrupted her own sentence with a small moan as she felt him lick a stripe of the fabric of her panties.

A look of confliction flashed on her face. “But we aren’t married, isn’t this sinful in itself?”

“Father… please, just please— help me,” (Y/N) said, eyes darting away from him, shame creeping all over her body.

A hot, wet feeling placed itself between her thighs. Miguel spread her legs as far as they would go while he delved into her, tongue working through her slick folds.

“You are already wet, you really were thinking of this, weren't you?”

He smirked and brought his head back down, placing wet, messy kisses from her inner thigh to her throbbing clit. He honed in on the nub, wrapping his chapped lips around it and swirling it around with his tongue.

(Y/N) looked down and watched as his brown hair moved back and forth as he lapped at her cunt. Hesitating, she reached her hand out and gripped his hair, holding him in place, and rolling her hips onto his face. Her hips stuttered as she moved, moans catching in her throat.

“F–Father, it feels– I feel—”

“I know, you are very close.”

She looked confused, not sure what he meant. “Huh–?”

Miguel pulled her hand out of his hair and pushed her down on the desk, flat with her legs in the air. He spat directly onto her cunt, spreading it with his tongue. He craned his head back and locked eyes with her, replacing his mouth with his fingers, circling her clit quickly with his thumb.

“Do you feel that tightness building up?”

“Yes, make it stop, it feels odd, please. Make it stop,” she said, grabbing onto his wrist while her rubbed her.

Miguel shushed her, placing his other hand on her thigh. “Just wait, (Y/N).”

Thumb still focused on her bud, he pushed his tongue into her entrance, feeling her tight walls fight and clench against his prodding. He slurped at her walls and dripping arousal.

“No, no– I–!”

Her hips involuntarily rolled against his face one final time before she felt the tight coil in her stomach burst. Her thighs squeezed over Miguel’s head and kept him in place as she came, legs shaking and mind blurring.

(Y/N) let go of his head quickly, sitting up on the desk and pulling away from him. He wiped her slick from his mouth and chin, cleaning his face from the sheen of her cum.

“Father O’Hara, are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that, I don’t know what came over me…”

“Hush, now. Save your words for what is to come,” he said, standing to his full height.

He pulled her body back to the edge, pushing her down, flat on her back. Pulling himself out of his pants, he adjusted right at her entrance. Before pushing in, he took hold of both of her hands, holding them above her head.

“This will hurt. You will bleed, but you must relax. Do you understand?” He saw her nod. “Good girl.”

He pushed into her, slowly inching his tip forward. (Y/N)’s hands clenched, fingers dug into her palms while he painstakingly forced his hips further.

“Relax,” Miguel whispered as he dipped his head down to be level with her ear, “don’t squeeze so tight, just let me work you open.”

He bottomed out, sliding all of his length into her.

“No, hurts s’bad, can’t take it ‘nymore!” She whined loudly, tears flowing out of her eyes due to the harsh stretch of his cock.

He was so big, and she was so small. He should have been careful with her, and he should have treated her like the fragile little thing she was.

It only made him fuck her rougher.

His muscled hips pull out of her, tip barely staying inside.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it, I–”

“Yes, you can.”

He snapped into her. His thrust knocked the wind out of her lungs, having her choke on her words. (Y/N)’s hands immediately flew to his clothed shoulders, gripping onto them. To steady herself, she dug further into them, practically ripping the fabric of his shirt.

The sound of her half-pained, half-pleasured noises send him back to his movements. He starts thrusting, quickly fucking into her heat.

“You are taking me so well, you sure it’s your first time?” he asks, smirking.

“Yes, Father. I-I’ve never done this before,” she said through gritted teeth, “Dunno if ‘m doin’ it right.”

Miguel grunted and deepened his strokes. “Just let me do it, just gotta– gotta sit there n’ take it.” He allowed himself to kiss the tip of her cervix with his cock’s head, shallowly impacting onto the sensitive spot.

His hands fall to her hips. He grips onto them and holds her in place, keeping his brutal pace. He eyed the thick, white ring of her arousal forming on the base of his thick length, watching it grow and shift as he pounded into her fluttery walls.

“S’happening again, fix it–! Please, Father,” she felt a strong pang of ecstacy crash over her.

“Mhm..”

A few scattered thrusts nudged her over the edge. (Y/N)’s walls clenched repeatedly over Miguel’s dick, squeezing him tightly with her velvety, slick cunt.

“Fuck, c’mon now, relax.” His eyebrows knitted together as he massaged her hips, trying to get her to relax. “So tight, damn.” He finally pulled himself out and took to pumping himself in his hand. (Y/N) watched him fist his cock between her legs.

“Ah–”

He came onto his palm. The sticky, thin seed covered his palm. Miguel licked his cum off of his hand, watching as (Y/N)’s face heated up as he did. He cleaned it off, letting his tongue dart between his fingers to tease the girl before stopping and wiping the rest onto the girl’s cheek.

“Come, down now,” he said, pulling her off of the desk. He chuckled as she stumbled over to the door, legs weak.

“Thank you, Father,” (Y/N) croaked out, holding onto the doorknob. “But, what– if I keep thinking those thoughts, what do I do? Will I be forgiven?”

Miguel took his spot at his desk, wiping away at the wet spots left on the wood.

“If you continue to be plagued by such thoughts,” he said, “do not be afraid to come back to my office. Remember, we all sin, but we can always fight for forgiveness.”

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vcnillazelda · 2 years

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alive

simon riley x reader

summary: you almost die on a mission

tags: near death experience, angst with a happy ending, hospitals, hand holding, hurt/comfort, cuddles bc ik y’all crave it, f! reader, also very stubborn! reader, jealousy at the end but it’s not too bad

✞———————❖———————✞

your heart beats below his fingers and simon lets out a soft exhale. it’s not that he doubted your condition, he just needed to see it for himself. simon hadn’t gotten to visit you since the mission, but now you were in safe hands he could relax and sit beside you. his heart aches for you, and he clutches your hand tight. “i’m sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers, blinking. his mask feels stuffy in the warm room, yet he doesn’t care enough to remove it, even when the paint around his eyes begin to smudge and fade. you hum softly, head rolling towards him a little as your body shuffles to sink further into the cardboard-like mattress that was your hospital bed in the infirmary. simon sighs, running his fingers over your knuckles. you twitch a little, hand flexing under the feathery feeling of his touch, and simon lets up, not wanting to disturb you.

“simon..?” you mutter, voice thick with medication and sleep. “i’m here, doll.” he responds softly, and you hum. “hi, there.” you smile a little, not bothering to open your eyes due to the heavy lead feeling on them. “how do you feel?” simon asks, and you hum. “not too bad… i’m on some heavy meds.” your lips twitch upwards once more and simon huffs out a small laugh. “i can tell.” his hand squeezes yours, and you let out a soft exhale through your nose, body relaxing. “don’t get all depressed, si. it’s not my first time in here.” you state, and he hums. “i mean it, y’know.” you finally open your eyes, poking his forearm. “i know you do.” simon states, eyes soft and doe-like. “good. just because i got hurt, doesn’t mean you’re at fault. we all got separated, there’s nothing anyone could of done.” you reply, smiling a little.

there’s a small silence between you both, and yet it’s not uncomfortable. “you’re impossible, y’know that?” simon mutters after the silence fades with the sound of footsteps walking past. “i know.” you respond, closing your eyes once more as you settle beside him. with that, you fall asleep. simon stays by your side for as long as he can before the doctors kick him out, knowing full well he’d be back in the next day after every little job he had to do was settled.

simon comes back after his shower, which he took after training, his hair is damp under his hood and his actual mask is gone, leaving him in the balaclava he wears under it. you’re awake this time, yet relaxing as your fingers run over the bandages. “hello, sweetheart.” he mutters, and you open your eyes. “hi, simon.” the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him smile. “you need to rescue me, si. recovery is so boring.” you joke, going to sit up. simon gently pushes you back down, sitting on the chair beside you. “hey, now. recovery is important. i don’t want any lasting injuries on you, okay?” he mutters, and you sigh. “stop agreeing with everyone.” you roll your eyes but he can tell you’re joking because you break into a grin and kiss his fingers.

simon let’s you talk about things, noting every little ‘get well soon’ gift and card you had gotten. he has to get you one too… “so, yeah. that’s how i broke my arm on the first day of training.” you sigh, and he hums softly. “sounds rough…” simon sympathises, and you hum. you know better than to ask him for stories in return, anything he told you would be of his own accord when he was ready. “johnny dropped off some book, but you know how i am…” you trail off, and simon rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah. where is it?” he asks, and you point to the bedside table. “in the top drawer. thanks, si’.” you grin widely as he picks up the book, one he wasn’t familiar with, and opens the cover.

you had fallen sound asleep just after simon had finished reading the fifth chapter, and so he put the book down and lifted his mask a little to gently kiss your forehead. he doesn’t leave just yet, he had nothing else to do, and so simon sits and watches over you, keeping a close eye on your vitals and the machines around you. you seemed to be doing well, but simon knows how easily it would be for you to take a turn for the worst; he’d seen it before and truth be told, it terrified him.

simon gets the news that you’d flatlined then been resuscitated from johnny, and he drops his firearm, startling poor gaz who was trying to get some tips. he sprints through the base, ignoring the worried looks and anyone trying to stop him. barging into your room, simon sees price already there, arms crossed as he watches the doctor test your vision with a pocket light. “just keep following the light here, you’re doing well…” he mutters, watching your eyes carefully. “everything seems to be okay… that was a close call.” the doctor stands upright, and price speaks up. “do we have to send her home?” he asks, and you tense. “i don’t want to go home..!” you frown, but the doctor sighs. “if it continues to worsen you might have to.” he replies, and you sigh. “simon..!” you silently plead, plead for him to take your side, and yet he sighs too. “you should listen to them, they doctor’s right.” you frown at him, turning away. simon’s heart aches, yet price pats your shoulder gently. “don’t worry about it, kid. they’re just looking out for you.”

simon moves out of the way to let the two leave, sitting beside you. “hey..” he mumbles, gently grasping your hand. you don’t respond, clearly upset. simon wants to yell at something, someone, yet not at you, he’d never raise his voice at you. “please talk to me.” he begs, squeezing your hand a little. “…i don’t want to go home.” you mumble, and he nods a little. “i know, but if it gets serious you’ll have to go to an actual hospital.” simon responds, although he’s also dreading the idea. “how did this even happen?” he asks, and you shrug weakly. “i’m not sure… it just did- i went to take a nap and i woke up to a damn defibrillator shocking the life out of me.” you frown, leaning into him, head resting upon his broad shoulder. “how do you feel now?” simon asks, moving his hand from yours to rub your back. “my chest hurts and i feel dizzy… the doctor said it’s because i got zapped back to life.” you sigh, and he hums. “as long as you’re alright…”

“i want out of this damn room, simon.” you complain. two days had passed and you were on the up and up. “i know, doll.” he responds, waiting for you to be quiet so he could go back to reading the book you were quite interested in. you sigh, pulling his other hand up to your cheek. you’re pouting, and he sighs. “it’s not so bad, darling.” he mumbles, and you scoff. “it’s awful… i wanna go back to normal.” you reply, and he hums. “well, you’ve gotta get better first.” simon looks at you, and you crumble a little under his gaze. “okay, okay…” you surrender, falling quiet once more so he could continue reading.

simon sighs as he enters your room, glancing to your bed as he goes to close the door. you’re holding onto your iv, knees trembling as you stand. “poor timing…” you mumble as your lover immediately swoops over, sitting you down. “poor timing my arse, what the hell are you thinking?” he demands, and you sigh. “i’m bored, simon! i want to do anything else than lay in this damn bed all day!” you complain, and simon sighs. “i spoke to the doctor before coming in, okay? you’ll be out soon.” he assures you. “that’s what they said two weeks ago then i fucking died.” you snap, and simon flinches. “si’…” you trail off, voice small. “no, no… i get it. it’s hard.” he responds, sitting beside you on the bed. you frown, leaning into him. “i just wanna leave, simon…” you whisper, and he nods. “i know, doll. not too long now.”

weeks pass, and you’re increasingly bored. you’ve always been a soldier that enjoys inserting yourself into situations, especially during training. you were practical and many praised you for it. simon brings you whatever he can to keep your sanity in check, he even tries getting you to knit to try and involve you in something. you’re become more irate and upset with every day, so simon backs off a little, cutting down his working hours on base to bring you books- only to read them to you, but it was something. so, when the day the doctor states you’re fit to leave back onto base, you’re elated, a wide grin on your face as you snatch up your belongings. simon keeps his hand close in case you fell, still unsure of you leaving early, but the doctor pulled him aside and stated it was just for your mental health and that he’d keep a close eye on you.

you sigh heavily as simon helps you into your shared room with the lieutenant, watching you flop onto your bed with a grimace. “careful. i don’t need you going back in so early.” he mutters, painfully aware of the stitches on your side which trailed to your stomach. “yeah, yeah. i’d rather get sliced up and nearly bleed out again before i go back into that damn infirmary.” simon sighs at your blunt words, sitting beside you. “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that again, yeah?” he mumbles, and you soften up. “sorry…” you reply, muttering. “it’s okay…” simon sighs, letting you tug him so you were both lay on your bed. “let me see your pretty face…” you mumble, taking off his mask for him. simon smiles, kissing your lips sweetly as your thumbs gently run over the faded scars on his skin. “that was the worst part of staying in there, i couldn’t see you properly.” you mutter, kissing him again. “shush.” simon whispers, coddling you close to his chest. “it’s true..” you respond, squeezing his waist a little as your head rests against his chest. eventually, you doze off, wrapped up in his arms.

when simon wakes up, he shuffles a little. you’re tangled in his limbs, head still pressed to him, fast asleep. it feels good to have you so close once more. you whine softly in your sleep as simon moves, clinging on tighter. he stills, letting you settle before getting comfortable again. “stop moving..” you mumble, burying your face into his neck. “sorry.” simon exhales, resting his chin atop your head. “s’okay.” you reply, falling back asleep.

you wake up to an empty bed, yet no beeping. sleepily, you stretch and yawn, wiping sleep from your eyes. “simon?” you ask, sitting up. you look over, seeing him doing his morning exercises. “morning, doll. sleep well?” he asks, as if he wasn’t lifting his entire body weight up on a doorway pull up bar that he had attached to the bathroom of the room. “yeah, fine.” you mumble, taking your sweet time appreciating how his back muscles rippled with each swift lift. “you look good.” you compliment, enjoying how he falters for a split second. “knock it off, i have to finish this.” he scolds, yet there’s no sternness in his words. “yes sir.” you stand carefully, sighing. there’s a knock at the door, and so you open it whilst simon gets down. “hello, doctor. thought i had escaped you.” you say smoothly, and he smiles. “you thought wrong.” he replies, entering the room.

his latex gloved hands are cold as they run over the sensitive wound, you can see simon glaring at the doctor over his shoulder. it almost makes you laugh. “the stitches aren’t ready to be removed yet, but they should be after a few more weeks. meaning no training.” the doctor tells you, drawing your gaze to his face. “right.” you nod, feeling a little dejected as the doctor starts wrapping your stomach back up. simon stays quiet, brooding at the fact another man was touching you so intimately. you giggle softly, excusing yourself as ‘ticklish’ when the doctor raises his brows. “all done. i’ll be back again tomorrow to change your dressing and check on you.” he states, bidding farewell as he leaves.

the door clicks shut and you laugh openly at simon, who scowls. “stop it.” he grunts, walking over and engulfing you into a hug. “you looked so upset. it’s funny.” you giggle, pulling up his mask to kiss him. his lips are desperate and hard against yours. “you don’t have to be jealous simon,” you coo, fingers brushing over the scars upon his cheeks. “i’m all yours.” you feel his lips twitch up slightly as he kisses you again. “i know you are.” he replies, pulling you down so he could coddle you whilst there was still some time in the morning’s free period. you tangle your legs with his, fingers running over his chest as you push your head under his chin, completely content with the position. “i love you, simon.” you mumble, smiling widely to yourself. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mw ghost #simon riley x reader #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 call of duty

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kaenbl4ze · 5 months

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Hi! I just reread Read You Lima Charlie for the millionth time. It's probably one of my favorite SEAL Buck fics, and I've combed through the whole tag multiple times. I know it's a bit of an older fic, but do you have any plans on continuing the AU somehow? I'd love to read more of that AU or hear your headcanons if you have any!

Hello hello! Thank you so much, you have no idea how excited I am to hear that! Please do feel free to ask any and all questions about the AU or my headcanons and I'd be more than happy to answer <3

I know it's been a hot minute (sorry heh work and life got a bit hectic) but I do have a draft of a fun little sequel sitting in my google docs which I've been writing on and off. Alas I am a perfectionist and also a slow writer so it's been in limbo.. BUT it is definitely there and almost done and will come out at some point! I hope!!

In the meantime thank you for reading and asking about it and being so patient and i love you so here's a little sneak peak action scene from the draft:

[tw graphic depictions of violence, blood/gore, death]

“Where’ve you been?” Steve’s eyes did a quick sweep over Buck’s body, analytical, checking for injuries. Noticed Buck’s empty hands. “Where’s your rifle?”

“I was doing the laundry!” Buck replied through gritted teeth, eyes wide with exasperation.

He looked back around the corner of the building as Steve spoke behind him; soldiers dragging off the wounded away from the blast site, his teammates spread around with the other troops and suppressing the flow of insurgents, a few enemy fighters slipping through the gaps in fire, spraying bullets into the base in wide sweeping arcs before being shot down.

“I don’t have a sidearm to give you. Head back to the armoury, grab your shit – give Command the sitrep on your way.”

Buck hummed in the affirmative, still scanning the combat zone, and was about to turn around and heed Steve’s instruction, but at the last moment caught sight of a combatant sneaking around behind a stack of crates. Slung over the man’s shoulder was a rocket launcher, and time seemed to slow as he swung the weapon around, gripped it tight, and levelled it at a cluster of infantrymen.

Buck saw red.

“Buckley!” Steve hissed, clawing at Buck’s sleeve in an attempt to stop him from sprinting towards the stray tango, but Buck slipped through his grip. He was too fast. Too focused. The last thing he heard was Steve muttering under his breath, “I swear that Kid is not right in the head.”

Planting a foot against a wall mid-run, Buck used his momentum to bound off and vault one-handed over the crates. He was airborne for half a second before colliding with his target in a spear tackle, bringing them both tumbling to the ground. The launcher clattered across the floor, and the two men engaged in a tangled mess of hand-to-hand combat.

Buck channelled his silent rage into the fight – got the large man into a grapple, caught an elbow to the mouth in the process, twisted the man’s arms as he yanked at Buck’s clothes. Buck had no gun. But he remembered, belatedly, that he did have a knife. Regrettably not one of his fixed-blades, but a folding knife that he had slipped into the pocket of his shorts a few days ago while rearranging his loadout. It would have to do.

The guy was a dirty fighter, strong, but he was sloppy. Poorly trained. More holes in his form than swiss cheese, and Buck fully intended to exploit them.

Buck ate a punch straight to his nose; didn’t let the sharp flash of pain or the momentary blur in his vision slow him down. He lunged straight for the opening in his opponent’s stance that he knew would be left undefended, torquing body mass and manipulating limbs to get the man into a one-armed chokehold against Buck’s chest. He quickly reached into his pocket with his free hand, flicked the lever to deploy the blade, and plunged it deep into the man’s neck right where Buck knew his jugular rested.

With a jerk of his arms, simultaneously pulling the knife towards himself and twisting the man’s head away, he was met with a spray of hot blood and a wet gurgle.

Steve rounded the crates with his weapon raised right as the body dropped to the ground with a dull thump. Buck hung his head, catching his breath from the exertion and letting the blood from the blows to his face drip from his nose and dribble out of his mouth. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip to cut off the string of bloody saliva, then spat out the viscous mess into the sand. Beside him, Steve strode forward, glanced down at the body, and exhaled sharply through his nose.

In his peripherals, Buck caught a flash of movement. He whirled around instinctively, and in the same motion whipped his arm and let the blood-slick knife fly out of his hand.

Two bullets from Steve’s rifle landed at the centre of the combatant's chest just a moment before Buck’s blade hit its mark, buried up to the hilt in the hollow of his throat. The man stumbled, eyes wide, and collapsed to the ground as his legs buckled beneath him. His weapon flew out of his hands in the fall, and his momentum carried his body a couple more feet before it finally slid to a twitching stop.

Buck straightened, scrunching his nose tentatively and sniffing. A deep buzzing sensation underscored the cacophony of battle around him, heartbeat steady and powerful in his core, fingertips thrumming with energy, vision crisp and vibrant. He blinked. Then, he turned to Steve, nonchalant.

“I had that.”

#asks #us navy seals #evan buckley #steve mcgarrett #seal buck #seal!buck #911 #911 abc #911 fic #911 fanfic

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aralezinspace · 1 year

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Sweet Nightmares (The Tale of the Blade in the Dark) Part IV

A single Hidden One goes against Dream of the Endless, and gets way more than they bargained for. One does not emerge from a nightmare unscathed. Previous

A/N: (crossover with Assassin's Creed) My contribution to @roguelov's Sweet Nightmares challenge! Enjoy! gif by @honeybeezgobzzzzz Tagging @fangirlmary @alteon77 @boofy1998

Last part, a nice lil epilogue to wrap the story up. So this takes place in the world of Assassin's Creed Mirage specifically (the game takes place in Baghdad and there's a Sandman comic story also in Baghdad it practically writes itself) xD I'm definitely planning to write more for this world once I play the game but it doesn't come out til October 😭We're not done with Yeraz yet, it'll just be a minute. Thanks for reading!

Warnings: AFAB, named, they/them reader, blood, nightmare!Morpheus, some Endless style torture, copious use of petnames

“What happened to Yeraz?” a novice murmured, almost afraid to disturb the magic in the air from the elder’s story.

The Assassin smirked under the shadows of their hood.

“No one knows,” they replied softly, the words filled with an almost wistful longing. “Some say that after killing their mentor, they fled the city and perished in the desert. Some say they killed him, then surrendered themselves to the Mentor here at Alamut and was executed for treason. However… there are some who believe they still live, roaming between the waking and the Dreaming, bound to an eternity of service to the Nightmare King. Forever paying the price for their Mentor’s arrogance.”

“Which do you believe?” another novice asked, too eager to sound humble. The elder chuckled softly.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Think on my tale, and your answer will show itself soon enough.” They tilted their head up to the night sky. “It’s getting late, and I am sure you have a full day tomorrow. Thank you for your hospitality, goodnight young ones.”

The novices understood a dismissal when they heard it. They all nodded to the elder and murmured, “Goodnight Master,” before heading up the path to the castle, talking quietly amongst themselves about the Master’s story.

All except one.

He appeared to be one of the younger novices, staring at the ground as he anxiously twiddled his fingers. He could not have been more than nine summers old. Born and raised into the Brotherhood, as they had been. The Master sensed he had another question. “What is it, child?”

“Did the Dream Lord ever forgive them? Yeraz. They- they were led astray by their Mentor, their act wasn’t out of malice or hate or anger, just- they were not to blame.” The Master could see him trembling, hear the wobble in his voice.

They patted the spot next to them and the young novice sat down, staring pointedly into the flames, almost afraid to meet the Master’s eyes. He mumbled to the ashes, “Whether they lived or died in the end, he must have known Yeraz would have made another choice, if they could have. He must have known they were wiser, less arrogant… Right? So… did he ever forgive them?”

The Master sighed, their insides churning. They had told this story several times in the last few months, and no one had asked this before. For once, they did not have a ready answer, no wise words to impart.

“I do not know,” they murmured into the fire, soft and slow, carefully measuring their words. “From what I do know…” They sighed, a heavy rattle of air that showed the weariness that hung heavily about their shoulders. “The lives and memories of the Endless are long. The Dream Lord was known to be quite cruel when he wanted; he definitely made sure Yeraz was sorry they ever came within a thousand leagues of his realm. Even if he forgave them, I’m sure he never forgot.”

“They didn’t deserve what he did to them,” he muttered, almost too soft for the Master to hear. A lump stuck in their throat. He continued, “I would have shown mercy, just sent them back.” He paused, frowning slightly. “The shame and dishonor of failure and being spared by their target would have been enough.”

The lump in their throat grew bigger, burning, almost choking them. They gave the boy a hesitant but encouraging pat on the shoulder and cleared their throat. “Now then, it’s late, and you should be in bed. Go on, I’ll bank the fire.” The novice stood, but made no move to go inside. He fumbled nervously with his fingers as the Master banked the fire, the flames dying down to glowing embers.

“Master,” he choked softly, his voice high and trembling, thick with shame. “Um- would you mind walking up with me?” The words tripped and tumbled out of his mouth, trying to justify his request. “I-it’s dark and I can’t see very well, I- I don’t want to get lost or fall.”

A tiny smile touched the Master’s face, even though they knew the boy probably would not see it. “Of course,” they replied gently, hearing the thinly disguised terror in their voice. “Take my hand.”

The moon and stars gave off just enough light for the novice to see a human shaped form that was a slightly different shade of black and navy reach out to him. He took their hand, their callused fingers wrapping snugly around his. As they walked up the path to the fortress, the Master murmured softly, “I know what it is to fear the dark. And sometimes that fear is justified.” They paused, the only sounds around them the chirring of bugs and the scuffing of their feet on the dirt path.

“Remember this, my boy: fear not the darkness, but welcome its embrace. My Mentor gave me these words, and now, I give them to you.” The large lanterns that marked the gateway to the fortress flickered into view. They were almost at the top of the path, and the Master could feel the novice’s relief. He repeated the words under his breath, his voice still trembling slightly.

The novice let go of their hand when they reached the safety of the fortress’ entrance hall, dimly lit by a dozen lanterns and candles. He turned to a doorway on the left, presumably leading to the novices’ quarters. The Master kept walking forward toward the grand staircase; their own guest rooms would be on the next floor.

The novice paused at the doorway and bowed at the waist. “Goodnight Master, thank you for the story and your guidance.”

A tiny smile touched their face. “Goodnight child, sleep well.”

#the Sandman #The Sandman fanfic #Assassin's Creed fanfic #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless reader #morpheus imagine #Assassin’s Creed

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allie-campbell-bradshaw · 10 months

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Chapter 13: Wait

A/N: I can’t lie, I am not the biggest fan of this Chapter! My writing seems choppy and I was cringing the whole time I was editing this. Maybe it’s the anxiety of writing in Bradley’s POV after Friday night…I’m not sure. I thought about doing away with it, but I felt it was crucial that we start to see Bredley’s determination in wooing Allie. Please know, other chapters are much better than this one! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post.

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter 13: Wait

BRADLEY’S POV

I cleared my throat as everyone kept their gaze on me. Even the bartenders were staring at me as they wiped down the counters. The bar wasn’t as full as it was earlier in the night during my whole act, but there was still a considerable amount of military men there.

“Holy shit” I heard an upperclassman, who was sitting at the table next to me, mutter under his breath. I walked over to the piano, grabbed my aviators, and placed them over my eyes.

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath as I strutted my way out of there, pursing my lips as though I was about to whistle, but nothing came out. I could only imagine what everyone was now saying in there, and what people were going to be told at the Academy.

I slid into my blue ford bronco and made my way back to campus. Javy, Emmett, and Natasha had plans to play poker in the recreation area. It didn’t interest me as much as going to Mission in Acton did, and now knowing what was destined to happen to me there, I’m glad I went!

Before I knew it, I was parked in the student lot. I opted to leave Allie’s sweater in the car to avoid any other rumors. The rec. was packed with students, mainly those under 21 that were too chicken shit to get fakes. Natasha, Javy, and Emmett all had one, and normally they would be down to go out, but apparently this poker game is a big deal! The winner gets a shit ton of money and lots of favors done for them until the next tournament. I walked over to the tables of students playing. Natasha and Emmett were still in, but Javy was standing behind Natasha’s chair, obviously out.

Emmett did a double take between his cards and me, landing his eyes on my own at the third glance, obviously taken aback by the fact that I was now here.

“You’re back early.” Natasha stated. It was true, when I went out to the bar, I would be gone until 1 or 2 in the morning. Today was different. Completely different.

“And you’ve seen some action.” Javy said, eyeing me up and down. That’s when I realized how uncomfortably cold I was as my soaked clothes were drying in the intensely air conditioned room. The adrenaline that I had from talking with Allie masked how uncomfortable I was by the damp clothes up until now.

“Only a little.” I responded to him. All of them looked at each other, making it obvious that they were predicting my actions earlier in the night.

“Allie?” Emmett questioned. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I slightly smirked, turned on my heels, and made my way to the door.

I didn’t see them behind me as I continued to walk, but I did hear the sound of two hands clasping together. In my mind, Emmett and Natasha were shaking hands, as if to congratulate each other on their accomplishments. An accomplishment of getting one for their good friends laid, which hadn’t happened yet, but one could only hope.

I smirked as I exited the rec. room, feeling the stares of students as I left.

***

“Now do you understand!” I panted, frustrated with having to explain myself a second time to this nurse that just wasn’t caring enough to listen to me. It was now Sunday morning, and just an hour ago, I realized that the napkin that contained Allie’s number had been ruined when we were in the water. I figured I would just go to the hospital and see if she was working. Just my luck, she wasn’t. So here I was, explaining myself to one of her co-workers, wanting so desperately for her to understand my plea and give me Allie’s number.

It wasn’t working. This woman was more frustrating and cold than Allie was, and that was saying a lot! She had her cold eyes sinking into me. Her expression was completely stone-cold. I rolled my eyes to the back of my head and let out a deep sigh before returning my eyes to hers. Her deep complexion and light pink scrubs were piercing. I didn’t know what it would take to get me through to this woman!

“So,” I said, taking a calm approach to see if she would let up, “Is there anything you can do for me”?

She just stared at me, her expression the same as it was these past 5 minutes. I’m not even sure she blinked.

I barged into the hospital, not even waiting for the sliding glass doors to open completely before I was fully in the lobby, noticing the two women at the receptionist desk.

I looked at them and gave a wave as I made my way to the doors that led to the right wing, knowing I would have more luck talking with one of her nurse friends than them.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” I heard one of them yell, but I didn’t care. I needed to get her number and I needed it now.

There was only 1 nurse at the nurses station. She had a dark complexion and pink scrubs on. She was wearing a white coat over her pink scrub shirt. The coat had pastel bears, bottles, and binkies on them. Thank God! A nice one. Her hair was up in a bun that was directly behind her head. “Hi!” I said to her, smiling brightly.

“How can I help you?” She said, seeming less friendly than I had imagined, but she was an older nurse, and I know how burnt out they get after doing this job for decades.

“I was wondering if you could give me the phone number of one of your nurses on staff.” I said, getting straight to the point.

This caused her to sit up straight, becoming more attentive to our conversation than before. She crossed her arms and held them tight to her chest. “And who may I ask is the nurse in question?” She asked, with a real attitude.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing full well how she was going to react when I said her name, “Allie Campbell”. I let it slip out, sooner than I would have liked.

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head and let her head fall slightly, before exiting our conversation by uncrossing her arms and going back to her laptop.

“Look, you don’t understand okay.” I snapped back, reaching over and shutting the screen of the laptop. She let out a deep sigh and looked at me, not saying anything, so I knew she would at least listen for a moment, “We had an…amazing time together on Friday night. And she left her number, but it got destroyed in my pocket when we were dancing in the moonlight in the water of Acton Cove”.

She had the biggest ‘what the fuck’ look on her face, not even knowing what to say. “So,” I said, reaching over and grabbing one of the pale yellow sticky notes that was at the front of the station, taking the liberty of also grabbing a pen as well before continuing, “I was wondering if you could write it down for me and just leave it on the desk and I can indiscreetly grab it from you. I won’t tell anybody.”

I looked at her with hopeful eyes but hers were just plain, expressionless, “Boy,” she said loudly, “Are you out of your damn mind!”

This took me by surprise. I thought nurses were supposed to be the friendliest people, doing anything they can to help their patients. Me. “Yes” I finally muttered, quietly, but loud enough that I knew she would hear.

We looked at each other for a moment, neither of us daring to move, “please” I whispered, it was more of a beg than anything…like an owner getting the neighborhood together to look for their lost puppy.

She didn’t budge, but shifted her body slightly, to show that she was growing frustrated. I looked down and nodded a little before looking back at her, “Then I’ll wait here until you leave and steal her file”.

Her eyes grew wide at my threat, and I immediately sunk into my insecurities, knowing full well that that was the wrong thing to say. “Then you must think I’m a damn fool if you believe I’m going to let you out of my sight for one second”.

“You’ll leave here eventually”, I said, matching her tone.

“I am 10 minutes into a 24 hour shift. I have a record of going 8 hours straight without using the bathroom, and lucky for you, I have an aid that comes and brings me my meals which I get the ‘privilege’ to enjoy at the nursing station so I can monitor the newbees that are hired here on base, and when I’m not here there are always 2 more nurses that are monitoring the area, to make sure moronic dipshits like you don’t steal any patient information…or in this case, employee information”.

I looked down, completely put in my place. She kept her stare on me as I thought about my next move, glancing over at the empty lobby, “I guess I’ll wait then.” I said to her, as I made my way to a chair in the lobby, plopping down and looking over at the nurse whom I just had the ‘pleasure’ of getting to know. She kept her eyes on me as the beige colored doors to the wing of the hospital closed between us. 24 hours. Here we go!

After sitting in the chair for some time, lost in thought, I glanced over at the clock behind my left shoulder, “9:15”. Fuck! It had only been 30 minutes.

I resumed my thoughts, thinking about the most random of things, letting my mind drift in whatever direction it wanted to go. No matter what I was thinking about, my thoughts always went to Allie.

Around 10:30, I approached a receptionist and asked for a paper and pen, doodling at my chair, making patterns of diamonds-shading in every other one. I filled 3 more papers with random shapes and patterns until the pen ran out of ink. After noticing the looks I got from the receptionists (obviously now filled in with what me and the Black nurse talked about), I didn’t dare approach them and ask for another pen.

It was now noon, and I was starting to wander around the waiting room. A few people had now occupied some of the other chairs, watching me like I was a crazy person. After a few minutes, I started to do some pushups. My goal was to be able to do 100 by the end of the year. I got to 36, easily, when I noticed some whispers of other people in the lobby, so I aborted my plan.

At 12:45, the nurse in pink came out to the waiting room, eyebrows raised but face still emotionless. I could tell she was surprised to have seen me still there. I looked at her with a “war-like” expression, making it clear that I was not giving up. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she grabbed some clipboards from the receptionist desk and made her way back to her nursing station.

The two women at the desk must have felt bad for me, because after sitting around doing nothing for another hour and half, they put out a box of trinkets and toys. I found a paddleball game and decided to work on my motor skills with that. After about 45 minutes, I had mastered the objective and put it back in the box.

It was then that I excused myself to take a restroom break in the bathroom on the east side of the waiting room. When I came back out, I noticed there was a plate of food and glass of milk on the table. It was from King Hall, steak, potatoes, and mixed vegetables, all covered in brown gravy. I looked over at the receptionist desk, which was empty. It took me a second, but I finally managed to put the pieces together…realizing it was from the nurse that I talked to this morning. I accepted it gratefully and ate every bite, not noticing how hungry I actually was until the contents were melting on my tongue at the first bite.

The rest of the evening was spent people-watching. One man came into the emergency room with blood gushing from an injury on his stomach. The nurse in pink was one of the ones that ran over and tended to him, looking at me and taking notice of my presence on her way.

About 20 minutes later, she came back from the left wing and looked over at me, like the way a babysitter looks at a child that comes out of their room after bedtime. I hadn’t moved, determined to do this the right way. She had a look of doubt on her face as she walked back over to her station on the right wing. She examined her area and had a shocked/impressed expression on her face when she saw that nothing had been moved or manipulated. Truly, I didn’t even notice that the nurses station was unguarded and unoccupied until just now.

I gave her a smirk as the doors closed, making us drop our gaze on each other.

The lights eventually dimmed and I pulled a chair over so I could recline my legs. Before I knew it, I was waking up from my slumber. To my surprise, I found that my head was resting on a white pillow, and a fleece navy blanket had been placed over my lap. Damn Martha (I unofficially named her)!

I looked over at the clock. It was 2:00 in the morning, only 5 more hours to go!

I drifted off again and woke up to the sunlight shining brightly on my face. The doors to the right wing of the hospital opened and ‘Martha’ came out, carrying a black purse on her shoulder. I groggily looked over at the clock and saw that it was 6:00am. “They let you off early?” I asked her in a tone that was way too friendly to match our true relationship status.

“I gotta give it to you Bradshaw, I’m impressed”.

“How did you-” I was about to ask how she knew my name before I froze, assuming the answer to my own question. I’m sure everyone in this hospital knew my name.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the soreness and stiffness radiating from my whole body. I made a face that was a mixture of exhaustion and pain as I moved my muscles around, adjusting from the uncomfortable position I was in.

“You’re maybe a little too good,” she said, smirking at me. “I’ll let Allie know you stopped by.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, my eyes still adjusting to the light. “Well, isn’t she coming”?

“She doesn’t work today. She isn’t a full-time staff member during the school year” Martha said as she made her way to the door.

“She isn’t-” I muttered to myself, realizing what that bitch Martha had just said. “Why didn’t you say something!” I yelled to her as she made her way out the door

“Have a good day!” She yelled back from outside, smirking as she turned the corner.

Are.

You.

Fucking.

Kidding.

Me.

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tklyhcs · 6 months

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@marysixnumbers AH U CHANGED YOUR NAME here!!!!!!! i tag you in our wonderful collab here

mostlyticklestbh submitted:

here’s a few lee!sett thoughts:

-his feet are pretty bad! skittering nails over his soles, or using a hairbrush on them, is the best way to get him there. it’s hard to do because of how much he kicks when he gets tickled, but two or three of his bandmates holding his legs down means he’s not going anywhere

-the sensitivity of his ears is an open secret to the band’s makeup department. it’s hard for any of them to resist flitting a fluffy makeup brush over his ears for a second, getting a few giggles, or a snort if they’re lucky. he’ll gently push them away and mutter “quit it” or “lay off the ears!”, bashful grin on his face

-raspberries kill him, especially if multiple people are tickling him at the same time - they can raspberry him in succession without any time in between. which drives him wild, they already tickle so much and two (or more) in a row, without any time to recover, has him cackling, fully weak with laughter. it’s worst when k'sante does it because his facial hair tickles too

-phel knows sett’s worst tickle spots better than any of the other bandmates, usually because he put a hand in the wrong place while cuddling/giving a massage/etc. ezreal finds out about this and pratically begs phel to tell him so he can finally win a tickle fight with sett (he just pins ez down and goes for his ribcage) but phel doesn’t spill. oh well, rip ez. and rip sett because phel knows exactly the best way to destroy him with tickles - to have him howling with laughter sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, not even having enough breath to beg for mercy. he doesn’t use that power very often, thankfully for sett

-this isn’t a separate headcanon but i love the idea of the rest of the band ganging up on him! no spot is safe, but there’s always someone tickling his belly - tracing abs, spidering over his stomach, digging into his sides

ANSWERING UNDER READ MORE BECAUSE AUUGHH HOLY SHIT ❤❤❤❤❤🔥🔥🔥🔥

okay okAY all my thoughts under cut because i am going to Explode thanks i have many things to say and by god i have been blessed because i love bullying him (nicely i promise) sorry this was late but during my mini absence i got to read these over and over (･ω･)💚

first, YES YES about the kicking he's a powerful guy and the second those nails even brush his ankle he kicks out with a yelp!! i have a hc that phel bullies them by always sticking his cold hands and feet under the rest of them when it's cold and they're unsuspecting and watching a movie and sett makes the mistake of stealing this move and gets his ass handed to him. he decides haha i'm gonna try this :) and the next thing he knows they are fighting back and he YELLS and they gotta pause the movie because he's TOO LOUD. he like, snakes his leg under a few bandmates to get to phel first of all, and that was his first mistake because he can't kick under that many people. he does dumb things ok!!!! and phel makes this choking laugh noise and GRABS SETT'S ANKLE LOL and he rakes his nails down his arch. the very hard scraping doesn't hurt him at all he's got thick skin but man does it tickle instead. pff imagine them tryna watch a movie and are interrupted by "AGH FUCK" a man facing the consequences of his actions. and the rest of them are also losers mind you, so now it's a free for all but sett is a popular target so they don't mind just sitting back on his calf and letting phel do the work. they're like rolls eyes comedically sett shut up we tryna watch the movie 🙄🙄 and he's like NOBODY IS GONNA HELP????

AUU i love ear tickles and he has the big fluffy ones that is SO much fun to think about. and arghhh not being able to sit still for makeup anyways (i just know he can barely sit and do nothing so he's always tapping his foot or bouncing his leg) so when someone brushes em he's like HEY i KNOW those don't need makeup so y'all are bullying me. and i bet he's sorta sensitive when getting to his chin too. like bro we're just doing some extra contour is all, stay still! n he hums and taps his foot a lil faster. he's got a goofy smile on his face and tries to focus on said humming, trying to remember the song's rhythm but the brush swipes fast under his chin, faster than he can process, and he does snort (like you saaaaaid)

and about the raspberries.. that's so good because that's certainly his favorite weapon of all time imo and we love a dude who can't take what he dishes out. he uses raspberries liberally, no one's stomach nor necks are safe. he finds it more intimate than most tactics and that connection is lowkey important to him! holding someone close in a hug is his fav. plus that's the whole point for him to have fun obvs! and giving out raspberries tend to give him only the best and most electric reactions. though now, that just means he's on the top everyone's shit list with that exact tactic being his demise. but ohh my god literally no breaks must have him SOBBING in laughter (in the best way of course) and honestly it reminds him a lot of his mom!! the lungs on that woman were very impressive.

also side note k'sante takes pride in his raspberries being the best he's like cracks knuckles, heh.. move aside amateurs what a loser

AWH ez begging phel to tell omg.. phel likes keeping his info all for himself! phel amongst the rest of them having a tickle fight to be strangely methodical with sett, he's a pro! he secretly likes being a little troublemaker so that's so in character for him. i bet he uses his secret knowledge at given times, for example if he's trying to wake sett up from one of his cat naps, he goes soft by rolling an ear between his index and thumb. but during a free for all he's going for that tummy of his. aaaand if he wants reciprocation, he'll be cheeky and playful!

sorry i was late with this!! i def gotta talk about the ask you sent about kayn too i'm CRAZY about that one too omgggmgg

#heartsteel #my post #ask #living situations have changed n stuff irl so shit's been crazy!

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tiny-cloud-of-flowers · 1 year

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a flower, returned (Clio/Aria)

A scene that takes place just after Aria is brought back to Daybreak Town by Clio, who wishes to finally reunite her with the piece of herself she had kept safe all this time. (1293 words) This piece is part of the Darkling AU, and directly follows my previous piece of writing for this selfship. Originally written for a "Welcome back kiss" prompt.

(Anyone is welcome to comment on and/or reblog my work, as long as my DNI is respected! A transcript of the document is under the readmore.)

The late morning sun had filled Clio's bedroom with light and warmth in the time since she had left it, but her first act upon getting back was to go over and pull the navy curtains closed, letting soothing shade settle over the space instead. Aria had kept close behind her the whole time, not only to hopefully be safer if she happened to be spotted on the way back, but also to simply appreciate the feeling of finally having someone else close by again.

"You can just sit down on my bed if you want." Clio was saying. "You look exhausted."

"Oh.. Thank you.." Aria quickly came over to perch on the end of the bed, watching as the room became darker and subsequently much easier to see in. This was her first time being invited into Clio's bedroom, so she was taking time to examine her surroundings - it was an open and spacious room with ample wardrobe space built into the wall near the doorway. A jewellery stand adorned with a number of pretty accessories stood on the dresser, and a many-flowered jasmine plant was growing in a terracotta pot sat next to it. It was this that she was staring at when Clio finished closing the curtains.

"I picked that one up from a shop not too far from here, back when I was out with some of the others." she explained, speaking up to fill the silence once she saw where Aria was looking. "I read that they don't like too much sunlight all at once, so I put it on the dresser in case today's mission took a while, and.. I mean, I don't want to jinx it, but it seems to be doing pretty well where I've left it!"

"Yes." Aria stated. "Constant light can be damaging in excess."

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know what this flower means, would you?" Clio asked casually, knowing the affinity she had always had for flower language.

There was then a long pause.

"..I can't remember." she admitted, and looked awfully downtrodden at the fact.

"Oh, that's alright!" Clio smiled to try and ease tension again. "It might say in the book I got, actually, so- don't worry!"

This did little to reassure her partner. "..I should be able to remember. No- I should be able to know. It's.. not good that I can't.."

In return, Clio couldn't help but be confused by her wording. "You should be able to? Did the.. do you think the darkness affected your memory?"

"Less memory, more.. instinct." Aria stated. Then she stopped. A lump caught in her throat, and Clio could see tears starting to form in her eyes again.

"Ari.."

"I have already lost so much.." she began to mumble, voice wavering now as she brought a clawed hand to where her heart would be. "I don't want- I refuse to let anything else of what I am be taken away. Whether by darkness, light, or any other aspect."

Clio opened her mouth to speak, but found she could not find the right words, so she settled for coming over and sitting on her bed next to Aria instead.

"..It'll be okay." she tried again. "You're back in Daybreak Town now."

"..A world of Dandelions, now." she muttered back. "The darkness was not safe for you, and it took something from me. But now, I fear the light here is not safe for me, for how much of it's present here."

Clio couldn't help but feel sad again at that, and reached out to take Aria's hand again, gently running her thumb over the hard parts of her claws, painfully aware of how cold she now was to the touch. In return, Aria simply leaned over to rest her head on Clio's shoulder, away from the spikes of her armour, tilting her wing to embrace her, trying to sense what warmth she still could.

There was a long, but not uncomfortable, silence as the two sat there together side-by-side.

It was Clio who spoke up again to break the silence, as a soft thought settled in her mind.

"Hey, um- There's something I've been meaning to give back to you."

"Mm..?"

Aria tilted her head in confusion as she watched Clio get off of the bed again, this time moving to the table right beside it. On it lay many items one would expect to find in such a spot - an alarm clock, a glass of water, a small pile of scrunchies and hairbands - but also a crown of clovers, woven together in a delicate yet strong wreath that Clio could gladly put back on her head now that she no longer needed to wear her helmet. However, before she did that, she set about dismantling her regalia, removing pieces of it one at a time and carefully setting them down on the floor away from Aria. Finally, her upper half was free of it, showing off her arms as all she was wearing underneath was a black short-sleeved shirt.

Even so, as she turned around, it could be seen that something was still fastened to her chest, right over her heart.

The flower still held the same softness and health as it had when it was gifted, all that time ago before the war - that much could be clearly discerned from the soft shine of its five pale pink petals. Two green leaves curled out from underneath the petals, one sitting just on top of the other, both pointing downwards like overlapping clock hands.

It was not just any cherry blossom, though that was clearly evident from its size - but above any other ways it stood out, it was her flower, a part of her still wholly untainted and free of the weight that the realm of darkness had worn the rest of her down with. A part of her willingly given up to someone who did not even know its true meaning, yet accepted it and treasured it for what it still was - who yet accepted her and treasured her for who she still was - nevertheless.

"You kept it.." was all that Aria could say, taking in the meaning of what she saw with an aura of what seemed like disbelief. She tentatively stood up from the bed to try and get a closer look.

"Of course I did." Clio said reassuringly, lifting the flower from her chest so that it could be put in its rightful place. "It was all I had left of you, and it was a promise that you would come back - so, how could I have not?"

"You really- I- I don't know what to say-" Aria's voice was now shaking with emotion, but she was interrupted when Clio reached out and pulled her cold body into an embrace, carefully placing the flower back where it belonged in the process with her other hand.

There was a moment of pause, as the flower settled back and found the rest - and then all Clio felt was a veritable glow of warmth and love as she held Aria close. She gently eased out of the hug, but only to get to be able to look down and see those catlike eyes of bright amber staring up at her - those eyes that held a visceral, and powerful, and yet no less adoring sense of life behind them now. Despite what the realm of darkness had done to her, and turned her into how she now appeared, no part of her seemed monstrous, anymore.

With a relieved and loving smile, all she could do was lean down and give her girlfriend a kiss on the lips.

"Welcome back, Aria."

#heart of the void #creations from the void #selfshipping #OC selfshipping #selfship: of flowers unchained (clio/aria)#of flowers unchained: darkling aria AU #love: crown of clovers (clio)#self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#of lux and daybreak (union x)#of hearts and friendship (kingdom hearts)#previous pieces #anyone is welcome to comment on or reblog my work as long as my DNI is respected #delayed echoes #I saved this one instead of actually putting it in the queue oops #I hope it's okay to reupload like this #sorry that i haven't really been around today

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 10 months

Text

Writing advent calendar 2023 Day 3

Prompt: Past

Aka: Childhood rivals cause a mayhem at a christmas party

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

There was a christmas party, and Ludmila wore her prettiest dress.

It was pink, with stars patterned on it, in a silver color.

At the same christmas party, Camila had insisted on arriving in red overalls and a green and white striped underneath.

She looked like an elf. Which Ludmila was not late with commenting when they spotted each other at the party.

They were eight, and the world had not gotten to them yet.

They were also eight, and had no form of consequential thinking.

"Who invited you to this party?" Ludmila asked. "Wait, you're dressed like an elf, maybe you're a staff member."

"Actually, my dad was invited because he is friends with the owner," Camila explained, "And he said it was ok for me to tag along."

"Camila!" That was Priscila, Ludmila's mom. She put her hands on Ludmila's shoulders, as if she wanted to steer her away from Camila. "What a nice surprise... are your sisters here, too?"

"No, just me and dad. My sisters are too small to come."

"I see... Ludmila, shall we see if there is other kids here at the party for you to socialize with?"

Priscila didn't like Camila. This was because she babysat her and her sisters once, and got traumatized. Camila thought that was fine, because she didn't like Priscila's daughter. She and Ludmila had a rivalry since they were infants.

Camila decided to see if there was another kid at this party she could talk to as well. She scanned the room. Most kids were either much too young, or they were almost teenagers. Was there anyone else her age?

She then spotted a brunette girl, seemingly around eight, who were standing kind of bored next to what Camila presumed was her father. She decided to cure her boredom by walking up to her.

"Hi! I'm Camila! And you?"

The brunette girl looked at her, seeming to be surprised that she talked to her. Then she gave her a shy smile. "Oh. Hi. I'm Violetta."

"Nice name. What are you doing here? I haven't seen you before."

"My dad is old friends with the owner. We move around a lot, but we are celebrating christmas here in Buenos Aires this year. But after New Years we will move to Italy."

"Italy! Wow! I've never been there and never thought of going there, either!"

Violetta chuckled. "I don't really wanna move. But I don't decide that."

"Well... wanna play?"

Suddenly, Violetta's dad turned around. "Oh, Violetta can't play."

"But I want to!" Violetta protested. She got upset really fast, which made it feel like this was something that had happened before. "Why can't I?"

"I don't want you to play with children I don't know about."

"My name is Camila and I am kind."

"I'm sure you are. Violetta, I want you to stay here with me, it's a big party and I don't want you to get lost."

Camila laughed at this. "Ha! My dad has no idea where I am!"

Violetta's dad stared at her. "Then he must be worried sick. I advice you to go find him. I can help you, if you want."

"No thank you." Camila then leaned into Violetta. "You can sneak away and play with me, later."

"What did she whisper to you, Violetta?" her dad immediately asked.

Violetta smiled awkwardly. "She just told me my dress was pretty. Nothing else."

Camila nodded and walked backwards away.

Ludmila was bored, so she decided to go to the upstairs balcony and looked down at all the people. She took a sip of the "christmas mix" her mother poured up for her (which was just strawberry juice) and felt like a queen looking down at her peasants.

"You look dumb."

It was Camila. She had suddenly appeared besides Ludmila, having a cup with drink of her own.

"Don't you have better things to do?" Ludmila asked.

"Nope. I'm bored."

They were silent for a moment. Then suddenly, Camila formed a mischievous face.

"Guess what."

"What?" Ludmila muttered, picturing something stupid to come out of Camila's mouth.

"There's alcohol in my drink."

"Ha ha. You expect me to believe that?"

"It's true. They have beer on a table. I took a can and poured it in my cup."

Ludmila scanned the room below them. Indeed, in a corner, there was cans of beer.

"I still don't believe you."

"Smell it."

Ludmila looked into Camila's cup. It was a brown-yellow color. She smelt it.

Indeed, it smelled like alcohol.

"I'm gonna drink it," Camila said.

Ludmila didn't believe she would drink it, so she just scoffed in response.

"I'm serious," Camila assured her, indeed sounding very serious in her tone.

"No, I know you're not."

Camila moved the cup closer to her mouth.

"You're not actually..."

Her lips were almost touching the tip of the cup.

"Very funny, you're not gonna do it."

That's when Camila started to drink it. Or, she chugged it.

At the same time, Ludmila's eyes widened in panic. "Camila, no!"

She pushed the cup out of her hand. At the same time, she dropped her own cup of strawberry juice down the upstairs balcony. It landed on an unsuspecting guest, who immediately screamed.

Ludmila and Camila gave each other and quick glance, and then ran further into the upstairs corridor, where walls were blocking anyone from seeing them.

There was another staircase leading back downstairs. They took it, and it led them down into the kitchen. No one was there at the moment. However, they soon noticed something. A giant white and red cake.

"Ooh!" Camila exclaimed.

"That looks so delicious..." Ludmila said. "When do you think they'll serve it?"

"I don't know. Why not eat it right now?"

"Let's have a little piece."

The two girls dragged their fingers across the frosting and tasted it.

"Mmmm!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Ok, let's get some plates..." Ludmila said.

Camila, however, grabbed a giant piece with her hand. "What? It was on the side, they won't notice it anyway."

Ludmila shrugged and also took a piece with her hand. However, she felt disgusted with herself. She hated whenever her hands were sticky.

So, as soon as she ate it up, she rushed towards the nearest bathroom to wash her hands. Camila followed her, as she didn't want to be alone in the room. Also, she was aware of Ludmila's dislike of stickyness, and thus put her cake-covered hand on her dress.

"What did you do?!" Ludmila yelled.

"Just a prank."

"Ugh!" Ludmila threw some tap water on her. Camila barely reacted to getting water on her.

"Hey, hey... just wipe it off with a towel."

Ludmila grabbed a towel, and tried her hardest to get it off. "Aah! My pretty dress! All ruined! Because of you!"

"You're so sensitive."

"Augh!"

Ludmila jumped on her. The two had a wrestle-fight, pulling each other's hair, and trying to bite each other. They moved out from the bathroom out to the common room, where everyone else was.

"Hey, what's going on?" Camila's dad asked, noticing them immediately.

At the same time, Ludmila pushed Camila to the table where the christmas mix punch was, making it fall towards the ground. All the guests around gasped.

And then, someone came out from the kitchen. "Who has eaten of the cake?! It was supposed to be saved for later!"

Everyone looked at Camila and Ludmila, who were covered in water and cake.

"Was it you who threw juice at me?" the person who got juice on them before asked.

The girls didn't know what to reply. They looked at each other briefly, before Camila pointed at Ludmila.

"She did it! Ludmila threw the juice!"

"Camila drank alcohol!"

"Ludmila ate the cake!"

"So did Camila! And she threw cake at my dress!"

"Ludmila threw water at me!"

"Camila pulled my hair!"

"Ludmila almost bit me!"

"Stop!" Priscila screamed. "Ludmila, you have embarrassed me for the last time! I thought you were old enough to behave at this party!"

"I didn't know Camila was here," Ludmila argued.

"I'm very disappointed with you, Camila," Camila's dad said. "Can't you play nice?"

Camila glanced at Violetta, who was still with her dad. "You know, I would have played nice if that man let me play with his daughter instead! Then I didn't have to go bother Ludmila!"

"Yes, she should have played with her, instead," Ludmila agreed.

Violetta's dad frowned at the sudden accusation thrown at him.

"See, they were having so much fun!" Violetta said, "Dad, why don't you ever let me do anything fun?"

"Let's go," Camila's dad and Priscila said to their respective daughters.

"Sorry, mom," Ludmila mumbled.

"I think you'd be much happier if that Camila girl stopped talking to you, dear."

"Sorry, dad," Camila mumbled.

"Eh, it's alright... honestly, I think this night would have ended worse if we brought the twins."

Camila chuckled, "That's true."

Every time Camila's dad and Priscila were invited to a party in the future, they were asked to not bring their daughters.

Camila and Ludmila decided to agree on blaming everything that happened that night on Violetta's dad. And honestly, once they found out of the things he did 10 years later, they agreed even more on blaming him for this night.

#2023 Writing DCLA+ advent calendar #violetta #cadmila #camila torres #ludmila ferro

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mcki · 1 year

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hello! same anon that asked for sns fics<3 thank you so much for being so open!

i really have no preference for length but i think it looking for (heavy) angst…. i don’t mind crying!!!

i also don’t mind fics that don’t involve canon storylines so long as the characters are in character if that makes sense? unfortunately i can’t continue fics if the characters’ dialogue don’t sound like smth their canon characters would say😭

i hope this isn’t too picky! thank you so much again for your recs!!!<33

hey sorry it took me this long to get back to you. i started going through the fics, got distracted and compeltely forgot why i was even doing that in the first place.

but anyways! here's the list. (put under read more cause it's... well you'll see)

everything is tagged ao3 style so you know what you'll be getting into and i even added some personal comments at the bottom.

happy reading!

Long Lost by CanineKitten | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Brief Uzumaki Naruto/Hyuuga Hinata | Post-Canon, Canon Divergence | 90k

“Sasuke wanted Naruto to catch the drift for once and leave him alone, but instead he leaned closer. Maybe Sasuke should have caught on when he saw the determination in Naruto's eyes. Maybe he should have realized that Naruto was about to do something stupid. But he didn’t. So when Naruto kissed him, he was too shocked to even be indignant.”In which Naruto and Sasuke skirt around their feelings for each other until they run out of excuses.

Can't go wrong with a CanineKitten fic. You're gonna see a lot more of them in this list. This one's a perfect blend of angst, fluff and smut.

Unburied & Examined by furorem | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Post-Canon | 16k

"I asked you…" Sasuke muttered, quietly, his eyes averted as if to hide something. "I asked you, what I am to you. And you said a friend. Over and over…" Finally, his eyes snapped up to meet Naruto’s. He was devastating, all hard angles and splintered bones, sharp edges Naruto could and would cut himself on. He wanted him. He wanted him so fucking much it made his heart ache.Realising you’re irrevocably in love with your best friend is one thing, confessing your love is quite another.

Idiots in love. Idiots pining. Idiots learning how to communicate.

the sins you pay for by kayeeyooblue | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Post-Canon, Canon Divergence | +100k

the walls of sasuke uchiha's apartment are dripping with layers of paint. it seems the only colors he knows how to use are red and black. sometimes, naruto wonders if sasuke has ever known any other color, or if his life has only ever consisted of blood and death. but he can't ask, and there is no answer, so he sits and watches the paint dry and waits for sasuke to begin again.

ANGST. Goes into very heavy stuff (depression, bpd, suicidal thoughts etc). If you get uncomfortable with this kind of thing please don’t read it. But I hope you do cause oh my god this fic is so good. Cried a lot.

Kizuna Hikari by YoungAndOverIntelligent | M | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Post-Canon, Canon Divergence | +200k

The only reason Sasuke keeps coming back to Konoha is because of that mattress. The bed is his only respite. And perhaps the dumbass who owns said bed might be worth it, too.Or, another canon divergence 699 that showers Sasuke with too much (deserved) love and attention that we all need for these unprecedented times.

One of my all time favorite sns fics. A must read for everyone in the fandom.

should I tear my eyes out now? by weeb_grass | M | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | idek what this'd count as? post canon ig | +3k

The battle against the Elders is lost. Sasuke is locked away for life. After twelve years of fighting the system, Naruto frees the man he loves in the only way he knows how: "Just to reiterate: how long will it take for the cyanide to stop my heart?" Naruto keeps his face blank as he replies with: "Three minutes. Four at the most."

PURE ANGST. HURT/ NO FUCKING COMFORT. HEED THE TAGS.

Free Falling by CanineKitten | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Post-Canon, Canon Divergence | +45k

After being reinstated as a shinobi, Sasuke takes on what is supposed to be a standard mission together with Naruto. But the mission soon spirals out of control when they get involved in a conflict that isn't theirs. Eventually they end up in the wilderness, lost and without any other help but a strange map that lives its own life, and it only gets weirder from there on... At least they get to spend a lot of time together and learn to know each other better than they ever could have dreamed of.

Great plot. Great smut. Great characterization. Just great.

Soup's On by OfFansAndFlames | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Side Pairing: Suigetsu/Karin | Modern Setting | +350k

After a bloody altercation at school, the courts sentence Sasuke to one hundred hours of community service. Sasuke takes employment at Saint Magdalene's soup kitchen, where he meets a headstrong vagrant who will change the course of his life.

Another one of my favorites. This was reccomended to me by a friend a while ago and OH BOY. I don't ever really read Modern AUs but this fic DELIVERED. Angst, smut, fluff, crack, it literally has everything. 10/10 would reccomend.

If You Let Me by roguelovers | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Post-Canon, Canon Divergence | +11k

Naruto leaves with Sasuke after the war. There are knots to untangle.

Pretty much what the summary says. Sasuke's characterization is on point. Some angst.

Something To Remember Me By by heimai | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Modern Setting | +82k

Every summer, Naruto visits the sleepy beach town of Oceanview. Easily the best part of the trip is the carnival, set up for three days at the end of August. As summers pass, Naruto finds himself coming back again and again to see the boy at the end of the boardwalk. First, he wants to win the game the boy runs, but it turns into wanting to win Sasuke's heart instead. For some reason, Naruto just can't get him out of his head.

Really cute fic. But SAD. You've been warned.

A World of Truth by luchia | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito/Rin | Canon Divergence | 23k

The world is trapped in an illusion which removes anger, hate, and death. It's paradise, giving everyone everything they've ever wanted and reviving anyone they've ever lost. Nearly two years into the illusion, Sasuke snaps back to his senses and must decide whether to keep the world in false bliss, or return it to war-torn reality.

This one is a lot more AU than a regular canon divergence fic i'd say.

Restore My Faith by onepieceofharry | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Genin-Era, Canon Divergence | +100k and cont.

Sasuke was consumed with hatred because his family was killed. His entire family, not a single person left alive except him and their killer. It was enough to drive someone insane, or into the arms of the first maniac promising him enough power for revenge. Instead Sasuke finds a little baby Uchiha on a meaningless mission and leaves Konoha for a vastly different reason.

The plot is really interesting, very different than what you usually read. onepieceofharry is always so creative with their fics tho, so no surprises here. All in all great fic, can't wait to see where it goes.

btw since it's not an sns fic i didn't include it in the list but if you end up enjoying this, you have to read a theory of justice by the same author cause it's insanely good.

A Crown of Peonies and Primrose by shinigami714 | M | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Canon Divergence | 85k

Sasuke had never excelled when it came to handling his emotions. All his life he’d tried to push them aside. They made him weak, or so he thought. But all it took was one man to ignite such strange feelings within him, to force him to come to terms with them, accept them, and acknowledge that sometimes emotions weren’t a weakness at all, but rather one’s greatest strength. Sometimes the greatest happiness was found simply by following your heart.

Nice fic. Not much else to say about it. Classic SNS.

So I Can Stay With You by saucekays | M | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Canon Divergence | 67K

After the War, Sasuke is struggling: with the past, with Konoha, and with himself. He decides to go on a journey, one he hopes will bring him redemption and maybe some peace of mind.Naruto isn't willing to let him go so easily, so he does the obvious: invite himself along.While traveling across the lands, Naruto and Sasuke are forced to confront what lies between them. They make a lot of discoveries about themselves, their past, and their true feelings for each other.

Very slow burn but the wait is so worth it. The pining, the yearning... Love it.

Aftermath by CanineKitten | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Canon Divergence | +58k

Naruto is tired of seeing Sasuke leave again and again. This time he’s going with him.

Another travel fic! A very good one too.

+ The rest of the list is not angsty but i stil included them cause they're favorites and it's good to read some light crack after so much heavy stuff.

Collecting Memories by venussnow | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Boruto Era-ish | +180k and continuing

One minute Sasuke was sleeping outside and the next he's waking up in a comfortable bed in a world where there is no chakra. Only Naruto can help him find his way back home, but Naruto's convinced that a demon has possessed Sasuke's body. Meanwhile, another dimension's Sasuke woke up in a panic, without chakra, in a world where every nightmare he has ever had came to life and where everyone he loves is either dead, smelly, or downright terrifying. And don't even get him started on having a kid.

The Sasuke we know stuck in the modern world and ModernAu Sasuke is stuck in Konoha. Really funny and incredibly clever. I love this one a lot. No angst whatsoever (i mean there is drama but it's nothing compared to some of the fics in this list). I really hope you'll give this one a go cause, man, I had(still have) a blast reading this.

We Deserved A Better Ending, My Love by narutophobia | M | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Modern AU but not really, Reincarnation i guess? | +100k

Ever since Naruto was little, he has been plagued by memories from a life that was not his own.And then he sees Sasuke.

Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Again a really fun fic to read but a little more serious than the other 'fun' ones on the list.

Mirror, Mirror by sowell | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Canon Divergence | 16k

A jutsu gone wrong brings Sasuke home in a way Naruto never expected.

Really funny. Had a blast reading this. Kinda crack but not really? 'Crack treated seriously' i guess.

That's What Best Friends Are For by heimai | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Modern Setting | 26k

In the same way Icarus had flown too close to the sun and plummeted to his death, Sasuke Uchiha now had a vibrator stuck in his ass.

Might be the funniest shit i've ever read. But also really sexy? With fluff? Idk how the author managed to keep the boys so in character while writing about, you know, a vibrator getting stuck in one of them. 10/10.

No Different by Asuka Kureru (Askerian) | E | Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto | Canon Divergence | +2k

The boys compare the size of their curse seals. Amongst other things.

Pure smut. Enjoy.

#feel free to add to the list #long post #answered

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randalsgrave · 2 years

Text

Sweetness and Light: Part 5

Well hot damn, it's been long enough - and speaking of 'long enough' this part totaled out at 22 pages. Told y'all it's only gonna get longer from here on out.

Week two and week three go by, each with its high - and low - points.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 8.1K

WARNINGS: colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men); mentions of toxic family behavior

Recommended Soundtrack: Go! - Public Service Broadcasting; Kick the Tragedy - Drop Nineteens; Crank - Catherine Wheel

***

Week 2. PT does, indeed, suck on Monday.

Everhardt decides that his class’s first PT session of the week is going to involve endurance conditioning at the base track - a lot of it.

When he utters the dreaded words “caboose runs,” Katie groans (as do probably 5 other people, but that’s beside the point). As if it wasn’t bad enough that she and Bob kicked their asses hiking on Saturday, now she’s got 20 minutes of staggered sprints on shit legs to worry about.

“It had to be caboose runs,” Katie mutters under her breath as she falls in line behind Fanboy and trots off for the next 20 minutes of hell.

At least she’s not alone in her misery. Bob says nothing as he slips into line behind her. He does, however, pass her a grin of pained solidarity as he sprints his way up to the front of the train when his turn comes.

It’s a grin she returns when it’s her turn to bolt to the front.

It’s also a grin that Fanboy catches notice of, and one that he finds himself asking questions about when the run ends 20 minutes later.

“Am I missing something here?” he wheezes to Katie when they’re all clustered on the side of the track, taking a much-needed water break.

Katie, propped up beside Bob against a row of bleachers, shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe if you’d tagged along with us instead of spending all morning in bed on Saturday, you’d be in the loop.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. How was the hike, anyway?”

“Long,” Bob winces. “And steep.”

“Hm. Explains the faces of agony.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Katie mutters with a snort, which Bob underscores with a nod and chuckle of agreement.

Fanboy says nothing else beyond that - at least, not while Bob is within earshot. When everyone starts making their way to center field for calisthenics and Bob follows along with the others, Fanboy pulls Katie aside, leans in close. “So uh, like I was saying earlier… Am I missing something here?”

There’s no missing the sly, knowing glimmer in his eyes when he speaks. Oh Christ Fanboy, what are you insinuating?

She plays dumb. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she says airily.

“Hell you don’t,” Fanboy retorts with a roll of his eyes and a smirk. “I saw you guys vibing together. Being all smiley and shit. Y’all got real friendly with each other on Saturday, didn’t you?”

“If by ‘got real friendly’ you mean ‘hiked up the side of a mountain and OD-ed on pancakes and hashbrowns shortly thereafter,’ then yeah, we got real friendly.”

“Cute, cute. There gonna be a second date?”

“Oh my god Fanboy-”

“Ooh, that sounds like a yes-”

“Fuck off,” Katie giggles as she gives Fanboy a small shove. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with me and Bob. We’re just friends.”

“Five bucks says that changes in a couple weeks.”

“You ready to lose that bet?”

Fanboy shrugs. “I dunno, I’m feeling pretty good about this one.” The waggling of his eyebrows earns him an exasperated groan.

“You are absolutely ridiculous.” Despite the nature of the words she just spoke, Katie can’t help the grin that splits across her face. “C’mon, before Everhardt bitches at us.”

He laughs, but says nothing more as he jogs off to join the others for the rest of PT - and thank god he does, otherwise he would definitely have words to say about the disgruntled scowl curling across Katie’s lips. Making bets about her love life… As if she even has one. She and Bob are friends and nothing more.

At least, that’s what she tells herself. What she’s currently hell-bent on telling herself.

She steals a glance at Bob, then at Fanboy - and the scowl deepens. Bastard, she thinks.

This is going to be a long 3 months.

***

Instruction picks up right where it left off on Friday, with two-man hops and simulated bombing runs and death by classroom lecture. The first half of the day sees Fanboy and Halfpint paired with Airbud, a single-seater pilot, and their hop goes as well as it’s expected to.

Where it all goes to shit is during the second half of the day, when Katie finds herself paired with Melendez.

Melendez isn’t a team player; she made that much clear during the first week. Of course, nobody really realizes it until one person or the other is paired up with her for flight ops. Nobody knows which is worse: the fact that she’s maliciously cocky in and out of the cockpit, or that she peppers her shit-talking with musings of being a TOPGUN instructor. She’s not making friends with anyone here - and it seems like everyone else is happy to keep it that way.

So why Katie finds herself jogging after her on the tarmac and calling out to her is completely beyond comprehension.

“Melendez!” she yells over the whistling roar of their jet engines.

She doesn’t hear her. Either that, or she ignores her. It doesn’t matter to Katie. She jogs after Melendez, reaches a hand out to touch her shoulder.

And damn-near gets decked with a fistful of equipment.

“What?” Melendez snaps. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Whoa, hey-” Katie’s hands are up instantly, and she takes a step back, opens up the space between them. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea… “I just wanna talk, that’s all.”

“Yeah? About what?”

Katie closes her eyes, sucks in a deep breath. She’s gonna have to make this quick.

“Look - things got off on the wrong foot last week. I was hoping maybe we could reset and try again.”

“‘Reset and try again’?”

Melendez is mocking her, or getting ready to do it, at least. Fuck, Katie knew this was a bad idea.

She stands tall, gives a single, curt nod. “Yeah.” This conversation may be going south faster than she would’ve hoped, but she’s not about to tuck tail.

Laughter bursts from Melendez's mouth, a loud, raucous guffaw of… Disbelief? Amusement? Katie’s not sure - but the laughter all the same can’t be a good sign, not when she’s trying to extend an olive branch.

It starts with a smile, a malicious one. “Look, blanquita, I dunno what you’re on right now, but let’s get somethin’ straight. We’re not friends; we’re competition - and even if we weren’t competin’ there’s no fuckin’ way I’d wanna be friends with you.”

Her response doesn’t really shock Katie. At least, the first part of it doesn’t.

It’s the second part that throws her.

“You little white girls are all the same,” Melendez says, voice laced with poison. “You try to be friends with everyone so no one calls you out for being trash. Make me look like the bad guy for callin’ you out on your shit.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up, yes you do. Grow up, blanquita. Stop tryin’ to be everyone’s friend and do your fuckin’ job, if you even can. They can’t help you if you suck.”

And with that, Melendez pivots on one heel, and continues her march to her jet. She spares no second glance at Katie, who stands stock-still for a moment, blinking and staring at the spot she previously occupied.

She didn’t think it was going to go that bad, but… yikes. That was pretty fucking bad.

And the worst part of it? Maybe Melendez has a point.

It’s a thought that plagues Katie as she climbs into the cockpit of her F-18, and takes off for an exercise that sees Melendez push her around and leave her feeling like shit about her flying. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she does suck and is trying to distract from it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told Katie that she doesn’t measure up and that she’s only lying to herself.

You know you’re not cut out for this. Why do you insist on embarrassing yourself?

No. No, no, no. Fuck that.

Whether or not Melendez is right, it doesn’t matter. Katie can’t let that get to her. She’s worked far too hard and for far too long to be derailed by some little Brooklynite trying to pick a fight with her.

Melendez wants competition? Fine then. Competition is what she’ll get.

She’s gonna wish she hadn’t, though.

***

The next day is much better - Katie’s relegated to an observer position while two other teams are sent up in the air. The two teams in question? Bojack and Wolverine, and Bones, Bob, and his front-seater Rapture.

Now, everyone at TOPGUN knows as well as the next person that each pilot and NFO has their own distinct magic, that little bit of something that sets them above and apart from their peers in the aviation community. Katie’s knack for quick absorption is unparalleled. Fanboy and Halfpint are fast, efficient, precise. Hell, even Melendez has her magic; her doggedness and tenacity in the air make her one hell of a pilot.

And then there’s Bob.

Bob is a goddamn crack shot. His rate of accuracy is so near-perfect that it’s almost a little frightening to watch him and his front-seater rain destruction down below them. Of course, Rapture is plenty accurate and deadly on his own - but with Bob? Their targets don’t stand a chance. Rapture’s WSO is sharp and laser-focused and on the money every damn time, a deadeye of epic proportions.

Katie can’t help but smile as she listens in on the radio chatter in the ready room and hears Bob and his front-seater slam-dunk the exercise. They’ve got their targets zeroed and smoldering within minutes, a far cry better than most of the others in class.

Certainly a far cry better than her and Melendez yesterday. It stings, just the tiniest bit, but she tries not to let it bother her. Besides, why should it bother her that someone who’s clearly meant to be here just killed their bombing run?

This boy is gonna be the one to blow them all out of the water. Katie just knows it.

“Jesus - remind me never to cross you,” she murmurs to Bob after debrief. “You were like fuckin’ Annie Oakley out there.”

Bob’s mouth screws up in a small grin. “Yeah, well, Annie Oakley appreciates that. It’s nice when your peers tell you how lethal you are.”

“Oh, you. Still wanna grab Chipotle with me, Fanboy, and Halfpint?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Bob matches his pace with Katie’s, sets his garrison cap upon his golden-brown head. “I’ve been dreaming of a double-protein bowl since Fanboy brought it up this morning.”

“You earned it, that’s for sure.”

He smiles again, wider and happier, and it sends a flutter through Katie’s chest. “I aim to please.”

And he certainly does. Bob Floyd is an incredibly gifted aviator. There’s no doubt that he will take top spot in their class. No doubt at all.

And, quite frankly, Katie thinks, it couldn’t happen to a better person.

***

“Do you drink coffee?”

It’s barely past 0630 on Wednesday, and Katie is already receiving texts - and from Bob, no less.

At first she’s confused. She’s in the Navy; of course she drinks coffee. Caffeinated beverages are practically her lifeblood.

Her brow furrows as she picks up her phone to respond. “Yeah? Lol. Why do you ask?”

A bare 10 seconds pass before a response is shooting into her inbox. “I’m brewing some in my room,” the text reads. “Happy to make you a cup if you’d like one.”

Hm. An impromptu coffee date with Bob Floyd. Even if it is ridiculously early in the morning, Katie has to admit, that sounds quite nice.

“Sure, I’ll swing by. What’s your room number?”

“224. Just a heads up, I split the room with Rapture and he might be here when you come down. Sorry for that btw.”

“No worries. Be down in a minute.”

Thankfully, neither of them have to worry about Bob’s front-seater when she appears at his front door moments later. He’s stepping out as she’s coming in, heading off for breakfast in the lobby.

Which leaves Katie quite alone with Bob in his room.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small ripple of excitement passes through as she steps into the hotel room and shuts the door behind her.

Living spaces, no matter how temporary, have always been an interesting thing for Katie. They paint a picture of the person occupying it, shed light on the parts hidden by polite social interactions and facades.

Bob’s living space is simultaneously everything Katie figured it would be and absolutely nothing like what she thought. Frank Herbert’s Dune rests on the coffee table in the living room area, but so too does a battered, oft-read copy of Robert Jordan’s The Eye of the World and Pathfinder’s Core Rulebook. A sticker-emblazoned gaming laptop with a pulsating rainbow-colored keyboard rests on the kitchen counter, but it’s streaming soft, soothing coffeehouse jazz. And the coffee that Bob offered earlier? He has a whole setup for it, complete with a hand-cranked coffee grinder, water boiling on the stove in a lodge-supplied tea kettle, and a small French press. Whatever images or preconceived notions Katie had about Bob’s living space have been all but obliterated at this point.

It’s more than that, though. The contents of the hotel room prove that things are nowhere near as simplified as she would’ve thought. There are layers to Bob; that much has been apparent since the moment they first met. Still, Katie didn’t think she’d ever really get to see them. The fact that she’s now standing here, seeing these parts of him - hell, that he’s letting her see these parts of him…

She might actually have butterflies in her stomach right now.

Bob putters around the small kitchen space with his flight suit half-zipped and the sleeves tied tight around his waist, one hand gripping the coffee grinder while the other cranks the handle. His face holds an expression of calm, collected concentration, almost like an artist’s. It’s a creative process for him, Katie realizes. How very him.

“Do you take anything in your coffee?”

Katie makes a noise of indifference as she seats herself at the countertop. “Not really. I kind of just drink it how it’s presented to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Why the double-check?”

“Well,” he replies as he dumps the freshly ground beans into the French press, “I ask because some people don’t like how I present coffee to them. I drink coffee black because it lets me taste the flavors and undertones better, but I know a lot of people who think drinking black coffee is like drinking charcoal, so…”

“So give it to me black then.” When Bob makes a noise of protest, Katie rolls her eyes but smiles endearingly. “I’m a big girl, Bob. I can handle a little bitterness.”

Bob only nods as he pours hot water into the press, then presses the grounds to the bottom with the plunger. When he pours the resulting liquid into a mug and slides it towards Katie, he does so with a look of nervous anticipation on his face, almost like her reaction determines how the rest of the morning - maybe even the day - plays out.

Lucky for him, Katie’s reaction when she takes her first sip of coffee is a highly positive one. She’s no connoisseur; she can’t taste any flavors or notes or undertones, but she knows for damn sure that it’s a good cup of coffee. It’s smooth, warm and roasty, but not burnt. Clearly, Bob has good taste in the stuff.

She smirks around the brim of her mug. “Well, it’s definitely not Maxwell House,” she says before taking another sip, a bigger one.

“God, I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a special place in my heart for the cheap shit, but sometimes I want a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like dirt.”

“Well then,” Bob replies as he seats himself beside her, “I’m happy to give you that second cup.”

“I’m happy to have it with you.”

She says it before her brain can catch up with her mouth. It’s hardly that loaded of a statement, and somewhere in the back of her head, Katie knows that - but it doesn’t stop her from blushing, and damn-near crimson at that. Where did that come from?

What’s funny, though, is that Bob is blushing too, and just as red as Katie, if not more. It makes her wonder what’s going through his head in that moment.

He takes a long, drawn-out sip of coffee, likely to help steady his nerves. “Uh, you know… I do this every day. Brew up some coffee, sit down, take some time to relax before class…” He takes another steadying sip of coffee, and the mug trembles in his hand, just the tiniest bit. “It’d be nice to have some company. Y’know, whenever.”

The words hang in the air, and Katie contemplates them. It’s not like Bob asked her to marry him, but she can tell that even asking for something as low-key as a shared coffee before class is out of his comfort zone. That he’s putting himself out there like this, that he’s doing it for her, no less…

Katie would be lying if she said her heart didn’t flutter in her chest.

A small smile graces her face. “Happy to come by whenever,” she finally replies.

She’s never been so glad to have accepted an invitation.

***

Thursday rolls around with another round of paired hops and simulated bombing runs. Katie’s up first this time, paired with Fanboy and Halfpint. She’s had time to get her head on straight after Tuesday’s less-than-stellar hop with Melendez - and now? Her head’s more than screwed on straight; it’s a steel trap, a loaded spring ready to explode and execute. She’s pissed at how Tuesday went, and she wants that feeling of competence back.

She can feel Melendez’s eyes boring into her as she passes by the ready room, can feel her smirking and sneering at her. No doubt she’s thinking there’s going to be a repeat of Tuesday’s hop. Like hell.

The run winds up being everything Katie expects it to be and hopes for - her, Fanboy, and Halfpint all working together seamlessly and efficiently, zeroing their targets and raining ultra-precise hellfire down on them, getting in and getting out with not a second wasted. It’s everything Tuesday should’ve been, and everything the rest of her time here at TOPGUN will be.

Needless to say, Melendez is no longer smirking when they all come out of debrief an hour later.

And that is enough to put a smile on Katie’s face.

***

It’s Friday night, and all Katie wants to do is have a beer. A Deschutes beer, specifically. Something that she knows the Hard Deck doesn’t have on tap - not that she’s really complaining. She’s not in much of a mood to “go out” tonight.

She could, however, wrangle up a friend or two to occupy the covered patio out back. That has the makings of a good time tonight.

All she needs to do is grab a six-pack.

It’s multitasking at its finest as she grabs her wallet and taps out a quick text to Bob. “Any interest in drinking tonight?” she asks him casually. “I’m about to head over to the NEX to get some beer.”

The reply comes back sooner than Katie thought it would. “Funny you mention that; I’m actually at the NEX right now. What do you want? I can grab it for you.”

Huh. Well how about that.

“Do they have Deschutes there?”

“I’ll take a look. What’s your plan b if they don’t?”

“Uhhhhhh Kona beer? If they have Longboard or Hanalei then that’ll work.”

“On it. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”

“Sweet, sounds good.”

Well, that was easy enough. All Katie needs to do now is wrangle up some more company.

She swaps over to her chat thread with Fanboy, begins to type. “Feel like drinking on the back patio tonight? Bob’s grabbing beer at the NEX; if you want anything I can text him and tell him to grab it for you.”

She’s slipping an old red hooded flannel over her t-shirt when she gets a reply back from Fanboy - a picture, says the notification. When she opens the message, laughter bursts from her. Fanboy’s sent her a picture of himself jutting his thumb over his shoulder - and who happens to be standing behind him, holding up a six-pack of Shiner Bock and making a face for the camera?

None other than Bob.

“Wayyyyy ahead of u fam,” he replies in a second text. “Also Bob says they got deschutes here. They got fresh squeezed IPA and squeezy rider IPA.”

“Ooooooooh definitely Squeezy Rider. Please and thank you.”

“Bet. Grab us a spot downstairs? We’ll be back in 10.”

“Will do.”

Without another word or text sent, Katie trots off for the elevator and makes her way downstairs, shuffling through the lobby to the back patio area, which is lit by the soft glow of brass torches. Coupled with several cushy seats in the area and the soft crash of the tide in the near distance, it provides just the right amount of relaxation and ambience for an easy Friday night in.

She folds herself into one of the lounge chairs, starts up one of her quieter shoegaze playlists, smiling to herself. Yeah, this was definitely a good call for tonight.

True to their word, Fanboy and Bob come waltzing through the door ten minutes later, each with beers in one hand and what looks like a bag of snacks in the other. For Fanboy, it’s Takis and mini pretzels. For Bob, it’s cool ranch flavored sunflower seeds and smoked mini sausages. Sure, it’s not the most inspired bunch of snacks - but food is food, and Katie is glad they at least had the thought to get some.

“You’re a peach,” Katie beams when Bob comes over and hands off the coveted six-pack to her. “How much do I owe you?”

Bob waves the question off and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, c’mon, lemme pay you back-”

“Sand Trap, seriously, it’s fine.” He grins at Katie as he takes the lounge seat opposite hers, all nice and easygoing and good-natured, but the glint in his eyes makes it clear that the issue is no longer up for discussion.

Well. Bob might not have taken very well to growing up in the South, but he sure as hell has the ‘southern gentleman’ mannerisms down pat. Isn’t that nice.

Still, Katie can’t help but grumble. “Fine, but I’m buying next time.” She settles back in her seat, twists off the top on beer number one. She doubts he’ll let her pay for whatever it is they buy next time, but damned if she’s not going to try.

“Yeah,” Bob hums around his first bottle of Shiner Bock, “we’ll see about that.”

“I’m sure we will.” Yep, she was right about that one. Not giving it up that easily. Not that it’s a bad thing. Katie likes a guy with a sense of chivalry. “Pass me some of those sausages.”

Bob obliges, holding out the open bag to her, and she grabs a handful and fastens one between her lips. It’s punchy, full of minced hatch chilis and spice, a nice counter to the languid citrus haze of her beer. Not bad for cheap snack food from the NEX.

“These are good,” she murmurs after a bite of sausage and a swallow of beer. “I’m gonna have to start buying these.” A snicker bubbles out of her mouth after a second. “Maybe that’s how I’ll repay you, Bob - just buy you a giant bag of hatch chili sausages.”

“Sand Trap-”

“Oh, c’mon Bob, I gotta repay you somehow! Lemme be nice!” Katie laughs, giggles tremoring in her chest as she takes another swill of beer. “Lemme be your friend and repay the favor.”

“You’re a plenty good enough friend without having to buy me stuff.”

And so the banter circles, and circles, and circles again. Katie’s not going to lie, it’s tiresome - but she keeps it up all the same. After all, it’s nice seeing Bob relax, nice seeing him engage in the dumb antics and arguments most others get themselves into.

It’s nice seeing him comfortable.

Speaking of being comfortable…

“Hey Bob?”

“Mmm?”

“You can call me Katie.” She can feel Fanboy’s amused side-eye boring into her the second she says it, but she doesn’t give a damn. Bob’s been her friend long enough; he’s certainly earned the privilege.

His blue eyes glimmer behind his glasses, and the corners of them crinkle in time with the grin that spreads across his face. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to - the look on his face says everything.

“What about me? Can I call you Katie?”

“Loser - we literally established this the day we met!”

“I know, but I wanted to get in on the moment! It was too cute to pass up!”

“You are the absolute worst,” Katie snickers before flicking a bottle cap in Fanboy’s direction.

And there the three of them sit, drinking well into the wee hours of the night, snarking and poking fun at each other, vibing, laughing, living, basking.

Few things truly are better than drinking with one’s fellow aviators.

***

Week 3. Coffee with Bob in his hotel room at 0630 is a fairly daily occurrence now. Katie makes a note in her head that Monday morning to get her hands on some good coffee beans later in the day. It seems like the only proper ‘thank you’ for the man who’s been sharing his small supply of caffeine with her this past week.

They’re sitting at his counter, scribbling their last little bits of homework before the day starts, sipping from their mugs while the usual coffeehouse jazz streams from his computer. Katie should be kicking herself for not having this done the night before, but she can’t be bothered to care too much. If anything, doing it now gives her a chance to cross-check things afterwards with Bob.

Or so she says.

“Y’know, it really is fascinating, what you can accomplish when you procrastinate,” Katie muses.

“If stress and anxiety weren’t side effects of it, I’d do it more often.”

“Agreed. Although I’m not sure what you have to be stressed or anxious about. You’re easily the smartest guy in our class. If anything, I feel like this whole thing should be a slam dunk for you.”

Bob shrugs. “It’s only easy because I have my setup to worry about, nothing else. Point, shoot, done. You, on the other hand, have my ultimate respect because you do that AND fly at the same time.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at it, though. I’m doing my damnedest to prove my worth, but… I dunno.” Katie’s lips purse as she looks down at her work, scribbles in her final notes. “Honest truth? I dunno how I even wound up here. There are definitely way better pilots out there. They’d be more deserving of a spot here than me.” She’s stopped writing at this point, gaze downcast and jaw clenching tighter and tighter. God, how it pains her to admit that, but she knows it’s true. She’s been told that her whole life; it’s not like she can just wipe it from her mind, her entire existence. Hell, she heard it from Melendez last week. No amount of anger, hard work, or successful hops can erase that.

Why do you bother? You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough for them, Katherine Mae… They don’t know you like I do…

They don’t love you like I do.

“Well, I think that’s a crock of shit,” Bob declares, voice cutting through the poison swirling in Katie’s head. “You’re a hell of a pilot, Sand Trap; someone clearly thought you deserve to be here. And I know that whoever sent you here, they’re not the only one thinking that.”

“Oh yeah? You one of those other people?” Katie mutters.

There’s a beat of silence. Then…

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

Katie blinks, looks over at Bob, finds herself looking into his eyes, that endless stretch of cerulean. There’s an earnestness in them that makes her stomach clench and her breath hitch, just the tiniest bit. It’s not often that she hears serious reassurance like that. In fact, it’s rare, so rare that Katie finds herself at a bit of a loss for words. Or proper response. Or anything, really, because not only is it coming from a colleague of hers, it’s coming from him, from Bob, and how the fuck is she supposed to react to that, to someone like him actually giving a shit?

She feels her face growing hot, burning red. She drops her head down, low enough so that he can’t see the embarrassment scorching across it. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bob smile. “I’d fly with you any day of the week and twice on Sunday, Sand Trap.”

Her whole body is burning now, and whether it’s with pride, pleasure, or shame, she’s not sure. Whatever the case may be, it’s a first for her.

She needs to speak. That’s what she needs to do.

It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell Bob ‘thank you’, to say some sort of one-and-done pleasantry - but all she can think to say, in that exact moment, is…

“Thought I told you to call me Katie, Bob.”

Though he seems momentarily taken aback by the answer (maybe he was anticipating her saying ‘thank you’ too), Bob chuckles, his cheeks tinted with the barest hint of red.

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on, Katie.”

This time, Katie doesn’t even try to hide her face when heat tears across her cheeks. Something about Bob using her first name the way that he does, so innocent and personal… It does something to her. What the hell’s happening to her?

She coughs, cobbles her things together and tosses them into her black backpack. “We don’t, um… have that much time left before class. I’m just - I’m - um, I’m gonna go-” It’s abrupt, out of nowhere, and certainly nowhere near the calm, cool, and easygoing responses she usually gives, and all she wants to do immediately after saying it is kick herself, because Jesus Christ, could she look like any more of a psychotic dweeb?

Bob, poor thing, seems just as confused. “Okay… Um… Guess I’ll see you in class then.”

Katie’s bolting out of the room and shutting the door behind her before ‘yep’ has even passed her lips. She doesn’t want to stick around long enough for him to see the internal meltdown she’s about to suffer. He definitely doesn’t need to see that.

“Seriously, Katie?” she hisses to herself as she marches down the hallway to the elevators. “What the fuck was that? He used your first name - after you LITERALLY told him to! Could you have reacted any more weirdly to that?”

Well, I don’t know - when was the last time you let yourself entertain ANY sort of male attention? Especially from someone that you, oh, I don’t know, MIGHT HAVE AN INTEREST IN?

Could she, though? Could she really?

No, Katie decides - no, insists - in the elevator ride down to the lobby. She and Bob are friends, nothing more. That’s the way it will be - the way it has to be.

Anything more than that and she risks opening wounds and exposing truths that should never see the light of day.

She shakes her head with a quiet snarl, makes her way out of the lodge and off to her car.

She’s gonna have to have a long conversation with herself when she’s done with everything for the day - a very fucking long one.

***

It’s Tuesday evening, a late one. Katie’s been staring at the same piece of instruction on aerial bombing maneuvers for the last half hour now and none of the information has absorbed into her brain. Whether it’s due to the late hours or the fact that it’s fairly complex material, it’s refusing to stick - and Katie is rapidly losing her patience with it.

With a huff of exasperated resignation, she tosses the paper away with no concern about where it lands, and thumps back against her bed’s headboard. What use is there in trying to force memorization? At this point she’s been reading and rereading the same three sentences with no clue of what they’re saying. Better to just say ‘fuck it’ for the night and pick up where she left off tomorrow, when her brain - and patience - is refreshed.

She lets her eyes slide shut with a sigh, thoughts tapering off into nothingness, welcoming the call of a peaceful night’s sleep…

Until the sound of her phone buzzing, rattling on the nightstand jars her awake again.

The phone continues to buzz on the nightstand, her sister’s name and number scrolling across the screen. Katie frowns. Naomi’s talkative, sure, but she’s not really the type to reach out with a phone call - not unless there’s something going on. What could be going on at close to 2230 on a Tuesday, Katie’s not sure, but she hopes it’s nothing too serious.

She rolls over, grabs the phone off the nightstand, accepts the call. “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

“Katherine.”

Katie’s stomach lurches and her blood runs cold. Her. Oh god, her.

It’s a fight to maintain composure, to not fly into a seething, furious rage at the mere sound of her voice. Four years since she last saw her and Katie’s still licking the wounds from her last encounter with her. This bitch is the last person she wants to talk to.

“Carrie.”

She makes a sound on the other end - a ‘tut’ of disdain, Katie realizes. Jesus - is she actually thinking of scolding her, of shaming her?”

“‘Carrie’? Is that any way to address the woman who gave birth to you? I-”

“You lost that ‘mom’ title a long time ago and you know it,” she hisses before immediately closing her eyes and clenching her jaw. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, she can’t be snapping like that. It’s how she pulls her into her bullshit; it’s how she’s always done it. Katie needs to calm down, and fast.

She inhales through her nose, exhales forcefully, grips the phone tight in her hand, evens her breathing and pitch. “What do you want?”

“Well, I want to talk to you,” Carrie replies, as if the answer is obvious. “I just found out that my oldest daughter’s on the West Coast; why else would I be calling?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to talk to you?” No, of course not, Katie thinks. This is her mother; the only person she’s ever paid close attention to is herself. The feelings and boundaries of her kids don’t matter to her. They never have.

“Why would you say something so horrible? What have I done to deserve that?”

Katie doesn’t even try to swallow her cackle of incredulity. “Are you serious? Do you want a list of all the shit you’ve done? I mean Jesus Carrie, you stole Naomi’s phone to get to me!”

“Let me remind you that I pay the bills in this family, and that includes the one for your sister’s phone. I may allow her to use it, but this is MY phone, understand?”

She’s pulling her into her bullshit already; Katie can feel it. Her immediate response should be to cut her off and end the conversation right here, just like she’s done countless times before - and yet, she can’t. It’s been a long week and it’s not even over yet. She’s tired, her guard is down, and after the last two minutes, her blood pressure is climbing and threatening to spill over. If anyone should know how pissed off and exhausted she is, it’s Carrie.

“Do you hear yourself? What kind of fucked up ‘no privacy’ bullshit are you on?”

“Oh, don’t you lecture me, Katherine Mae. I do what I do to keep this family together. And if this is what I have to do to keep my other daughter from abandoning it like you did, then so be it.”

Oh, that’s it. That’s fucking it. Katie’s not doing this anymore.

“Well, you clearly haven’t changed, so I no longer feel compelled to keep this conversation going.”

“Katherine, don’t you dare-”

“I’m done, Carrie. Give Naomi her phone back and don’t call me again.”

Katie then disconnects the call before Carrie has the chance to protest, the action decisive, unwavering, final. She should’ve ended that call a long time ago, and she knows she’ll be kicking herself for it later, but she’s out of it now and that’s all that matters. That bitch isn’t getting to her anymore tonight; she won’t let her.

But goddamn, did she come close to it.

Worse still, Katie knows it probably won’t be the only time that it happens - that Carrie finds ways to pull her back into her lies and abuse. This is only the start. And though she might’ve had the strength to shut Carrie down this time, there’s no guarantee that she’ll have it for the next run-in with her.

And that? That scares Katie. It scares the living shit out of her.

She needs an escape. Now. Before the memories threaten to consume her.

She slips in her Airpods, puts on Drop Nineteens’ Kick the Tragedy, cranks the volume to drown out the voices and nightmares swirling in her head, and pulls her knees tight to her chest, trembling.

It’s a position she stays locked in for the rest of the night.

***

“Does this instruction make any sense to you or am I just stupid?”

Katie’s currently sitting at a corner table in the buffet area with Bob, surrounded by notebooks, scattered sheets of paper, and small stacks of flight manuals. The piece of instruction Katie’s currently focused on is the same one from the night before, but she’s reading and poring over it with a renewed sense of determination (and spite, if she’s being honest) - or, at least, she’s trying to. It’s still as dense and heavy as when she last read it and it’s still not willing to stick in her brain.

She groans loudly when Bob glances over at the paper and shakes his head, thumps her head into her forearms. “I’m so fucked for this test on Friday,” she moans. “This is 65 percent of what we’re being tested on and I can’t” - thump - “fucking” - thump - “understand it.”

“Maybe put it down then, focus on something else?”

“I dunno. Maybe. My brain’s soup at this point.”

“Hm.” Bob drums his fingers contemplatively on the tabletop, seems to rack his brain for a solution. It isn’t until he glances down at the watch fastened around his wrist, though, that he comes up with something - and that ‘something’ involves him packing up all their study materials, rising to his feet, and gently pulling Katie to her feet by her elbow.

At first, she’s confused. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping for the night. We’ve been at this for the last four hours and it’s almost 11.”

“So?”

“So, that would explain why you’re having a hard time absorbing material,” Bob explains. “You’re tired; your brain’s not gonna absorb much when you’re tired.”

He says it so calmly, so simply. Fuck, it is simple, and Katie knows it. But, somewhere in the back of her mind… she can’t bring herself to go along with it. She’s a fighter pilot. More importantly, she’s a 1% fighter pilot in arguably the most challenging course the Navy has to offer. She should be soaking this material up, not getting stuck on the particulars of two-man air-to-surface strikes, literally the simplest shit. What kind of pilot is she if she can’t even figure this out? A lousy one, that’s what-

“Katie.”

Bob’s voice seems to melt through the nagging in her head, rendering it to little more than a whisper. She blinks, slowly, drifts back into reality, her very tired, very sleep-deprived reality.

Okay. Maybe he has a point. Exhaustion is definitely doing a number on her.

But hell if she’s going to admit it out loud.

Somewhat thankfully, Bob seems to pick up on that reluctance and speaks for her. “Here, I’ll walk you up.” He reaches a hand out, as if to touch her, but seems to think better of it after a second and pulls it back, choosing instead to nod in the direction of the elevators. “C’mon.”

They’re quiet as he escorts Katie up to the third floor and down the corridors to her room. When they finally come to a stop at her door, the exhaustion has set in with a swiftness and intensity she hasn’t seen since she was in OCS. She wonders briefly how she ever managed to power through it.

Bob takes her key card, swipes it across the reader and opens the door for her. “Get some sleep,” he tells her, voice soft. “I’ll hit you up in the morning, ‘kay?”

Katie nods mutely, steps over the threshold, allows Bob to pull the door closed. The exhaustion is weighing on her so heavily now that she doesn’t even react when it thuds shut more loudly than she’s used to.

Bob’s right - she really does need to sleep.

She trudges into her bedroom, fingers fumbling as she sets an alarm for 0600, then tosses the phone on the nightstand and falls face-first into the bed. She’s asleep seconds after her head hits the pillow, but not before her thoughts give a final whirl ‘round the study material, her pride in being a pilot, and her soft-spoken, bespectacled WSO classmate - the one who will be there for her in the morning.

And sure enough, he is, for when Katie wakes up the next day at 06, there’s a single-word text waiting for her in her messages:

“Coffee?”

***

Two days later, after an extended study session with Bob and Fanboy the night before, Katie walks out of the test on Friday with two errors shy of a perfect score. The ironic part? The errors were on material completely unrelated to what she’d been stressing over two days ago.

When she tells Bob and Fanboy as much on their way back to the lodge, they each respond with a shake of their head and a quiet laugh.

“See, smartypants?” Fanboy says. “Told ya you’d be fine. Gotta learn to trust yourself more.”

“Yeah, I’m working on that. Celebratory beer at the Hard Deck later?”

“Don’t have to convince me.” Fanboy looks over at Bob, raises a questioning, but friendly eyebrow at him. “You tagging along or are you laying low?”

“I mean, I gotta take a nap and catch up on the sleep I lost last night,” Bob replies casually, “but, uh… I could be persuaded.” He looks directly at Katie when he says the last part, making it abundantly clear that if anyone’s going to persuade him, it’s going to be her.

And goddamn, if that doesn’t set the butterflies afrenzy in her stomach.

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” Katie’s attempt at replying in equally casual fashion is damn-near a failure; the pitch of her voice squeaks higher with each word she speaks. She’s not sure why it’s happening, but speaking or replying to Bob these days seems to be doing a number on her nerves. “Honestly, I’m probably gonna take a nap too; I’m feeling kinda’ dead.”

“How late did you guys stay up after I left?” Fanboy asks them quizzically.

Katie shakes her head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.” She herself is running on five hours of sleep; nerves and stress made it difficult for her to rack out at her usual time, wiring her awake well into the wee hours of the morning. A nap is an absolute necessity at this point if she has any desire to socialize later. “Meet up in the lobby in a couple hours?”

Bob nods. “Works for me.”

The three of them pile into Katie’s 4Runner and putter their way back to the lodge, Catherine Wheel thrumming from the speakers as the mid-afternoon sun brightens the world around them. Were it not for the fact that she wants to be horizontal for her nap, Katie would be damn tempted to put her seat back and catch up on sleep in the warmth of her car.

Bob splits off from Fanboy and Katie in the parking lot, leaving the two of them to stroll into the lobby together and ride an elevator up to their respective floors. For the most part, it’s quiet, comfortably shared silence between two friends. It’s short-lived, however; just before the elevator dings to a stop at his floor, Fanboy leans in towards Katie, eyebrow quirked inquiringly, smugly.

“So, not a whole lotta sleep between you two… Was that all code for something and I just completely missed it, or-”

“Fanboy, I swear to God-”

Fanboy only snickers before splitting off for his room on the second floor, leaving Katie alone and red-faced in the elevator. Jesus Christ - if he keeps making comments like that, she might actually have to kill him.

“‘Code for something’...” Katie mutters when the elevator reaches the third floor and she stomps off to her room. “Fucking menace.” If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that Fanboy was actively trying to push her and Bob together.

Whatever. She’s not going to dedicate anymore thought to it, no sir - especially when she’s tired and still coming down from the stress of their test earlier.

She loosens her laces and kicks off her flight boots, falling into the mattress with her hair still bunned and flight suit still zipped, settling in for some sleep that practically blacks her out for the next few hours.

Later, after a nice, long, well-deserved nap and some dedicated relaxation time, the three of them are clustered around a high-top table at the Hard Deck, a small bowl of salted peanuts in the middle, beers of various brands in hand as they muse about their first three weeks at TOPGUN. They decide that, for as hard and as break-neck fast as it’s been going, all in all, it hasn’t been a bad experience so far. They’re conditions befitting their jobs - and lord knows, it hasn’t been boring.

“Kinda’ makes me worry, though,” Bob murmurs. “We’re only three weeks in and it’s already been a helluva challenge. What are the other ten gonna be like?”

Fanboy snorts, takes a swill of his pilsner. “You’re not telling me you’re scared, are you?”

“Apprehensive is more like it.”

“Eh, same difference. Not like you need to be scared though. It’s obvious you’re top brain in the class. You’ll get through this shit just fine.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” Bob’s eyes dart over to Katie for the briefest moment, holding her gaze for an even briefer moment before returning to the bottle in his hand. “I’m just waiting to see where Everhardt takes us next, and, y’know, trying to prepare myself for it.”

“Understandable.”

“I mean, if the next ten weeks are anything like the last three, just assume he’s gonna try to run us into the ground and proceed from there,” Katie shrugs. “I’ve already resigned myself to getting my ass handed to me; you might as well do the same.”

“Says the girl who aced her test earlier,” Fanboy scoffs.

“Almost aced her test earlier.”

“Oh whatever. You’re smart. You’ll be fine. Fuck, you’ll both be fine; you guys’ll probably take the top two spots.”

“Well, I’m certainly gonna try,” Bob murmurs with a bashful smile. “Can’t be helped if I get bested by this girl over here though.”

Fanboy shakes his head and sighs, but he does it with a smirk on his face. “This guy…”

“Nah, you’ll definitely best me, Bob; there’s no question about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replies. “May the best aviator win.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Katie raises her bottle. “While we’re at it, here’s to making it through air-to-surface.”

“And the first three weeks,” Fanboy chimes in as he raises his.

Bob’s the last to raise his, and his accompanying sentiment really rounds the evening out. “Onward to the next and best.”

Clink.

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @luckyladycreator2 @docdetective @airedale17

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob top gun #robert bob floyd x female oc #female oc #lewis pullman #bob my beloved #movies #film #fanfiction #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun 2

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slepyicarus · 2 years

Text

How He meet Him:

Satan

Wrath meets tired Rage

Tags: anxiety, exhaustion, anger issues, being lost, ooc satan+diavolo+barbatos (i suck at writing some characters ok), brotherly diavolo+barbatos

Now..where the fuck am i again.., Icarus thought annoyed as well as tired. He was still sluggish from training to use his wings right with the help of the Little D's. Now he somehow had to find his way through this giant School on his own because his brothers asked him to bring them some documents as they couldnt leave right now. The problem is No. 2, who was originally supposed to be his companion and guide right now was seperated from him and Icarus, being still quite skittish around new places and panics, easily dashed away when he saw alot of demons leave the classrooms. So now without guide and a dead DDD, he knew leaving his backpack in the castle was a terrible idea, he was lost trying his best to find his way without panicking or losing his temper. Both equally well possible with his mood.

He opened the first double door he found, knowing only that fact about the room he was supposed to be at had one. To his surprise he found an almost completely empty library. "Finally atleast a quiet calm place where i can rest for a bit before trying to find the coucil room again..", the halfdemon muttered under his breath while starting to browse the rows. He may not be the best to understand the language yet but he knew being exposed enough to it will make him master it better. Its just like how he trained his english.

Coming up to the murder mystery section he started to get excited even if he still was tired and had a short fuse right now. Softly going over the spins while reading the titles the lilanette found a title catching his attention. He started to reach for it but it was just out of his reach. Trying all his usual tricks of jumping, doing a dangerous game of extrem shelf parkour and standing on his very tippy toes his frustration and tiredness grew. He stood there huffing and puffing from exhaustion and glaring at the book. It almost looked mockingly well placed.

"What is a sloth demon being so angry about that they make a wrath demon notice it?", a calm smooth voice sounded from the right side of the boiling halfdemon. Whipping his head around furiously to glare daggers at the new face Icarus barked "Alot of things, Asshole. now fuck off and leave me alone!" Still smiling he raised a singular eyebrow reminded the other an awfully lot of his older sister sending him even further into the rage. Ready to read him some leviten Icarus fully turned towards the blond demon but before he got a chance to, the blonde gave him the book Icarus tried to get the whole time and got him this angry in the frist place. "Sherlock Holmes. Good choice. Read his books before, ..?" "Icarus. Thank you. And sorry that i was rude before..the rage makes me lose my manners..", the short sloth demon apologied, feeling guilty for lashing out against a stranger. "Its alright. Your stressed and tired, right? Some result to anger then.", offering his hand he continued, "Im Satan. Are you new at RAD?" "Shaking his hand and then following the blond to a table filled with books Icarus explained "Its a pleasure to meet you. And No actually. Not yet anyways..My brothers just need some documents and i got seperated from the Little D that was supposed to guide me and now im lost..I wanted to rest a bit before i continue to search." Both demons sat down with their books across eachother. "Oh, who are your brothers? I'm in the Student Council so i should be able to help you find them. I assume they are also sloth demons?" Shaking his head the lilanette explained "No they are a pride and a greed demon. I was adopted by them as i have no family here.", he thought about his next words abit carefully, not sure who much he was allowed to revela about himself right now, "Actually if your in the Student Council, it would be nice if you could show me to the Council room. I was supposed to meet them there.." "But First you would like to rest a bit, i assume? Wouldnt you brothers get worried then?" "Let them Worry then. Thats what they get for making me go to this giant school knwoing i get anxious around new places and lots of people i dont know with only a Little D.", Icarus huffed and opened his book earning a soft small laugh from the other over his petty prank.

Diavolo started to get anxious. No. 2 has reported he lost Icarus thanks to the bell ringing and all of the people leaving their classrooms scaring the young halfdemon into dashing off. He shouldn't have asked him to bring the forgotten documents but he missed the nowadays always smiling happy young boy he and his butler adopted as their younger brother. "Shall I look for him, M'lord?", Barbatos requested ahving noticed the anxious energy of the prince. "Maybe it would be better..Icarus could be having a panic attack while being lost like the first time he had to find his way in the castle..", Diavolo thought out loud. Just as he wanted to make the command official the door opened to the room with Satan and the spoken about party. Both quietly laughing to themselfes. Looking up The green-golden eyes of the halfdemon lit up happily. "Brothers! Finally her you are!", looking back at the blonde avatar he smiled, "Thanks for guiding me again, Satan! I bet i would have gotten even worst lost without you!" The wrathful demon looked a bit dumbstruck "You didnt tell me your Brothers where Lord Diavolo and Barbatos." The prince and his butler meanwhile walked to the halfdemon who smiled apologetic "Im sorry for not telling you that. I was unsure if i was aloud too as im not yet officially annouced as the adoptived Brother of Dia and there fore being a duke.."

Suddenly Diavolo scooped up the short lilanette in his arms efficiently interrupting the conversation between the avatar and the half demon. Hugging him tightly Diavolo sighed dramatically. "There you are, Ru! I was starting to get worried you would have a panic attack somewhere!" slapping the back of the demon prince Icarus gasped a bit for air "Sorry. I kinda got angry and frustrated about being lost so i read a book in the library to calm down and rest abit. Also, dia, please, i love your hugs but i still need air and your crushin me!" shifting the shorter the redhaired prince carried the lilanette on his arm now. Diavolo smiled as he announced to Satan "Thanks for taking care of Icarus, Satan! If you need something, just tell us. Its my thanks for helping my tiny brother!" Earning a soft slap on the back head from Icarus for calling him tiny in the process. Satan nodded "I assume i should keep quiet about Icarus for now?" "That would be highly appreciated. He still has to learning a few things before we can introdruce everyone to him.", Barbatos answered calmly, standing next to the prince now.

"Hey brothers..? Can Satan meet me from time to time..? He could help me get better at controlling my rage and maybe having a book buddy will help me with learning the language..?", Icarus requested carefully, not sure if he is allowed to ask for something after worring them. The two castle residents looked at eachother as if communicating telepathically. After a few minutes they nodded. "As long as Satan is okay with it.", Barbatos explained.

Looking hopeful at the blonde Icarus waited.

"I dont mind. He is good company and expending the knowledge of someone else sounds intriguing."

#may i annoyed i had to edit this on my phone to finish this?#yes #was this supposed to be done on satans birthday?#also yes #but life happend #so take this #also i decided dia is also gonna be icarus brother because he reminds me of my older brother before we got seperated and he somehow chanced #i hope i didnt miswrote satan too much #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #mc!icarus #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #how he meet him #slepy wrote something

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peterparkersnose · 2 years

Text

New Part 2

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: STRANGER THINGS S4 SPOILERS sleeping over, mentions of alcohol, tension, i have no clue about anything from dungeons and dragons i am so sorry for trying to describe it

a/n hi this is the long awaited part 2 to my eddie munson fic ‘new’. I am not writing a part 3, sorry guys. Potentially more eddie content coming soon. I really love writing but it is very time consuming and with finals it can be a lot. Thank you guys for 1k followers! that’s crazy. love you all. i love steve so much i am so sad about how y/n treated him in this story

summary Y/N spends the night at Eddie’s house (Sequel to New)

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read time: 10 mins 5 seconds

Part 1

Mike hopped into the back of Eddie’s truck. “Hey Y/N,” he said, greeting you suspiciously. “Didn’t know you knew Ed,” he said, buckling his seatbelt in. “She doesn’t really. Not yet at least,” Eddie said winking at you and backing out of Mike’s driveway. You watched as he grabbed the back of your seat and stretched his neck to look behind him.

Mike gave you an odd look, noticing the heart eyes you had just shooting for him. You gave him an odd look in response, ignoring him.

“The fuck did I miss?” he muttered under his breathe.

You returned to Eddie’s trailer to find the whole game set up. You were nervous. You’ve never heard of this game and didn’t want to seem stupid infront of Eddie. He could sense the nervousness in your eyes and brushed up against your arm. “Don’t worry, I got you.” he whispered, giving you goosebumps. You took a deep breathe and sat at the extra fold chair that was placed next to Eddie.

He sat down dramatically next to you. He stretched his hands out and cracked his neck. “Ready little shits?” he asked. Robin gave you eyes from across the room. Eddie then opened the card and began reading.

He would get so excited during the campaign. Maybe it was the extra adrenaline he had in his system because you were there. Eddie was at his height during the game. His storytelling was descriptive, mysterious, and even got Robin engaged. When he would get his way in the game he would turn to you with the brightest smile. He would grab your shoulders in the excitement and give you side hugs as the game went on. During periods where he was loosing, he would brush his leg up against yours. He also would kick at the souls of your shoes, and you would kick his back. Even at some point of the game he had grabbed ahold of your hand for a brief moment.

It was getting late. You had been sitting here for nearly 5 hours. You only noticed the time when Robin bailed, calling Steve to come get her.

“Which move do you think I should do?” he whispered to you, getting really close to your face. You looked at the cards, unsure of what any of them meant. You squinted, tapping the one on the left with your finger. “Risky,” Eddie seethed through his teeth. “But could work. Let’s try it.”

He then revealed the card, making the boys gasp. “You didn’t,” Mike said, covering his mouth. “Gotta roll over a 17 boys,” Eddie said, stretching an arm around your shoulder. “We got this in the bag now. They don’t have what they need to win,” Eddie said smugly, holding your shoulder tight.

Dustin and Mike looked at eachother and sighed. “Can’t you use the spell?” “The spell isn’t strong enough!” “It might be!” they bickered back and forth. Eddie sat there smiling in all his glory. You yawned, smiling too over the game and subconsciously placed your head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna roll,” Dustin announced, snatching the die from the table and rolling it. It bounced around and finally revealed a 16.

“Dammit!” Dustin yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. Mike’s face crumbled into his hands, sighing in defeat. “How did we let such a noob win?” Mike asked, looking at his watch.

“Shit! My mom’s going to kill me,” he yelled, struggling to throw his belongings back into his bag. “I should be getting home soon too,” Dustin said, following Mike outside.

“Robin’s probably worried,” you said, leaving Eddie’s side for the first time in hours. You felt cold, like something was missing. “I got you,” he said, walking over to his car and opening the side door for you. “M’lady,” he smiled, taking your hand as you jumped into the van.

The music was still soft from when he turned it down before. Dustin was dropped off first. He only lived a few minutes from Eddie. Mike’s house was farther down the road, through the wooded area. The trees were mesmerizing. The soft green color calmed you as the rain began to fall. You periodically heard the squeaking of Eddie’s windshield wipers. When Mike left, you didn’t even register it.

“So, uh, where do you-” Eddie began to ask, but found you asleep next to him. He sighed, looking at you for a moment at a red light. He thought you were so pretty. Eddie was so happy he was able to look in detail, not just in quick glances he was taking in class. The way your eyes fluttered in your sleep. The small freckles on your nose. The tiny scar on your forehead. How your arms folded naturally. The small shallow breaths you took. A car behind him honked, breaking him from his trance. The light had turned green a while ago and he didn’t notice. He avoided all the potholes the best he could and drove extra careful not to bother you. The gravel on the ground in the trailer park made you stir, waking you up enough to become somewhat conscious.

“Hey,” Eddie said, opening the side door and shaking your shoulder lightly. “C’mon.”

Dazed, you followed him into the trailer. He struggled to open the doors and get you into his bedroom without waking you. He threw his clothes off his bed and set you down. Almost immediately, you adapted to your surroundings and buried your face into his pillow.

Eddie sighed, brushing a strand of hair off your face. He covered you up with a blanket and made his way to his couch.

The next morning Eddie lazily woke up. He had heard his Uncle come home, signaling that it was about 6 am. He wandered into the fridge looking for something to eat when he remembered.

You were in his bed.

He dropped the beer he was about to open and rushed to his bedroom. There you were, fast asleep with his blanket in your arms. He internally died a bit there, knowing he hadn’t washed that blanket in a while and it smelt just like him.

He stood in the doorway unsure of how to wake you. You looked so peaceful. Eddie was running through any ideas in his mind, not noticing you decided to naturally wake up.

“Hello?” you asked, confused. “Oh, hi, uh good morning.” he responded, turning around and pretending he was doing something other than watching you sleep. “Did I not go home?” you asked, yawning and stretching your arms in the air. “You fell asleep in the car so I didn’t know where to take you,” he said, shuffling through his closet to find another outfit to wear for today. “What time is it?” you asked, sitting now criss cross on his bed watching him. “Little after 6,” “Your up early,”

“My uncle comes home around now every day. Used to it,” Eddie shrugged, pulling off his shirt over his head. You lost your breathe for a moment. Mindlessly, Eddie pulled on his hellfire shirt and found you gazing. “Like what you see?” he asked, pushing his sleeves up. “You could say that,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “I-I should get going. I bet Robin’s worried sick.” “Ah, don’t worry. She called, all good.” Eddie said, lacing up his black boots. “I have a question,” you asked. “Shoot,” “Can I shower here really quick? I never get time to in the morning, Robin always hogs the bathroom.” you yawned.

Eddie was taken back a bit. He didn’t know the state of his bathroom, how possibly musty it was. “It’s not cute but sure, be my guest.” he responded, walking to the hallway closet and throwing you a towel.

The water stayed cold most of the time. You were a bit thrown back by the dust on some of the shampoo bottles. You ditched those and let the water run over you. You were in a shower. His shower. The shower where he probably showered every day (hopefully). Where he was naked.

“No,” you whispered to yourself. You took a deep breathe in and focused on the water. The water that runs over his body.

“God dammit,” you said, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head.

I wonder what he does in here. Oh god, what does he do in here? I can just imagine his rough muscular body with all his tattoos and-

“Shit!” you yelled, banging your head accidentally on the wall.

“You alright in there?” you heard almost immediately. You shut off the water.

“I’m fine!”

You wrapped your hair in the towel, but then remembered he only gave you one. Of course, boy logic. They only use one. You sighed, taking a deep breathe before requesting a shirt from him. Definitely too premature to ask for anything like that, but then again you were in his shower.

Eddie was shocked by this request. He shuffled through his closet trying to find anything that would possibly fit you and didn’t smell like cigarettes. Shuffling to the back of his closet, he found a plain black hoodie that he hadn’t worn since middle school. He knocked on the door, closing his eyes so intensely shut that he thought he might of popped a nerve.

“Thanks,” you said. He could feel your damp hand reach for the sweatshirt.

You found Eddie sitting then on his couch. “I am so sorry,” you apologized, drying your hair with his towel. Eddie was shocked how well the sweatshirt fit on you. He could tell you struggled to put on your skinny jeans on your wet legs. “Don’t be. Looks nice on you, keep it. I never wear it,” he insisted. “I can’t just take your things-” “Seriously Y/N. Haven’t worn it in years.” he assured you, sneaking past you in the kitchen to try to find some food.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Are you?” you asked back, leaning against his counter. Eddie opened his fridge. “Beer, beer, leftover soda, olives, probably expired milk,” he went on. You chuckled a bit and wandered into his room where your stuff was.

“Let’s go to Denny’s” you offered, pulling your wallet out of your sweater. You could hear Eddie laugh form the kitchen. “With what money?” he asked, cracking open a beer. You sighed, taking the can out of his hand and putting it back on the counter. “Don’t worry about it. Equal for the sweatshirt.” “Y/N-” “Please,”

Eddie then found out he could never say no to you.

You raced him to the van, winning. You buckled your seatbelt in before he could even open the door. “Eager today, aren't we?” he asked, putting the keys into the ignition. “I’m hungry. Denny’s has good breakfast,”

“I can’t even remember the last time I had breakfast,” Eddie mumbled. “That- Eddie. You need to eat,” you sighed. “I do eat,” he protested. “Leftover pizza doesn’t count,” “Damn,” Eddie sighed.

When you entered the restaurant it was packed. Kids from your school, old people, mothers with screaming children.

“Table for 2,” Eddie said, horrified with the surroundings. “What?” you asked him, following the waitress to your table.

She sat you at a sticky table right in the middle of the restaurant. “You don’t like it here?” you asked, moving your wet hair behind your shoulder. “It’s not my ideal…environment,” he said, flinching at a kid behind you screaming. “You don’t like kids?” you asked, smiling at his discomfort. “No, not really. Menaces if you ask me.” he said, scowling at the kid next to him.

The waiter came and took your orders. You glanced at your watch. 6:42. “We still got time,” you assured Eddie. He took your hand from across the table and smiled at you. “Yes?” you asked, tilting your head. “How did you end up here? Such a pretty girl in a bland town,”

You blushed, feeling what you didn’t with Steve.

“My parents got divorced. I live at my Aunt and Uncle’s now.” you sighed. “Man, I’m sorry. Sounds rough.” “What about you? How did such a pretty boy end up in a bland town?” you asked, repeating his question. “Well, my mom dumped me here when I was about 3. My uncle’s been with me ever since. Never seen him much though, he’s always working nights at the plant.” Eddie sighed.

You chuckled a bit.

“What?” he asked, turning his head and smiling. “We’re both fuck ups,” you laughed, kicking his foot from under the table. “That-” Eddie said, eyes widening. “Is correct.”

“Two insanely attractive fuck ups!” he yelled, a little bit too loud for a restaurant. You giggled, hiding a bit behind the large sweatshirt.

Your food came and you ate. Eddie ate so quickly it was almost concerning. You ate in almost silence, you could tell it had been a while since the boy has had a full meal.

“Ready to go?” you asked him, piling the dishes for the waitress. He nodded and grabbed your hand, exiting the Dennys.

As you left the building, you almost ran smack into someone you knew. Into the someones you knew. Very well.

“Y/N?” Steve asked, looking at you, then Eddie, then at Robin. “Hey,” you said, knowing his heart was breaking about right now. “Where were you when Robin came home last night?” he asked, now noticing Eddie was holding your hand. “Oh, uh, I fell asleep. Eddie took care of me real nice,” “Is that a new sweatshirt?” Steve asked abruptly. “Steve,” Robin hissed, pulling on his arm. Steve gave Eddie the death stare. It felt so awkward standing in the doorway at Dennys with your best friend fighting with your new special friend.

“We should get going, I gotta get gas before school and-” Eddie began to say, trying to cut the awkward silence. “Okay, yeah. See you later.” Steve huffed, walking in front of Robin and into the restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” Robin mouthed, following your friend into the Dennys.

“The hell is his deal?” Eddie asked, opening the door for you once again. “Long story.” “I’ll listen,”

You sighed. “Steve likes me. Wasn’t it obvious?”

Eddie turned on the car and pulled out of the Dennys. “So Harrington likes you?” Eddie asked, reiterating the question. You nodded. You could see his hands tense up on the wheel as he shuffled in his seat.

The car took a turn squeaking on the breaks. It had began to rain again.

“You like him back?” he muttered, biting his fingernail on the other hand. “What?” you asked, turning to look at him. “You like Harrington?” he asked, more abruptly. A chuckle rose from in you. “As a friend, yeah. I just don’t feel the special way I feel with-” you began to say, cutting yourself off.

“Feel with what?” Eddie asked, turning to look at you. You pursed your lips. “Forget it,” you whispered. “Feel with what?” Eddie asked again, louder. “You’ll make fun of me,” you sighed. “Try me,” he said, laughing back at you. You took a deep breathe and tried not to look him in the eye.

“I don’t feel the same way I feel with you for Steve.”

A wide smile spread across Eddie’s lips. He signaled and pulled into the gas station. The second the car was parked, he ran out of the car. He opened your door and reached over you, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Eddie what are you-” you struggled to ask. He grabbed your hand and practically pulled you out of the van. “It’s raining!” you yelled, pulling up the hoodie’s hood with the other free hand. He pulled you into the middle of the almost empty gas station in the pouring rain.

He gave you the stupidest grin as he got down on one knee. He asked for both of your hands and kissed them.

“Y/N!” he yelled. “Eddie!” you yelled back. The rain had began to pick up. “Please,” he yelled again. “Please what?”

“Please be my girlfriend,” he yelled, now in the downpouring rain. “Really?” you asked. Eddie chuckled. “Would I be standing in the pouring rain on my knees in a gas station at 7 am if I wasn’t serious?”

You then reached down and hugged him. His sopping wet hair melted on your warm face. He then sprung up and grabbed your face with his hands. He gently put then around your cheeks.

“I’m taking that as a yes?”

You then kissed him, feeling the same spark you felt when you first met him. Your knees became weak as you pulled away. You two were both now sopping wet.

“Of course it’s a yes, you freak.”

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane. "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own. "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

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#bill denbrough #bill denbrough smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Eat Your Words | Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Female Reader

A/N: It is Tom’s birthday! My third one here celebrating. And boy did I bring the filth. Please read the warnings. And huge shoutout to @frostbitten-written for giving me the plot idea! You are a smut sister of the first order!!

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Reader

Summary: You mercilessly tease your husband about how amazing Loki is and how good he would be in bed. You never realized that could be a reality.

Warnings: SMUT, sexual acts include: vaginal sex, anal sex, masturbation, anal fingering, double penetration (mouth and vagina, vagina and ass), oral sex (m receiving), a bit of voyeurism, a small bit of m/m kissing, cursing, aftercare, vaginal fingering

Taglists are open! Let me know if you wanted to be added to my tag list!! Thank you for reading!

Tom knew about your not-so-secret obsession. You were a horrid liar and more so talking in your sleep.

“What are you reading, darling?” Tom tried peeking over your shoulder, but you slam the laptop shut.

“How about mind your business, Hiddleston?” You scrunched your nose at him.

“So more Loki porn.” he smirked as he walked past.

“The word is smut. And no.” You stared him down and he stared right back at you, leaning over the arm of the sofa. He raised an eyebrow. You squirmed in place. “It was fan art.”

“Cock or no cock?”

You grew hot. “Cock.” you threw a pillow. “Happy?”

Tom caught the pillow in the air and placed it back on the couch.

“No. How many times do I have to tell you to not throw the pillows?” His face broke out into a wide grin before plopping on the couch. “What is your fascination with Loki, darling? You realize I play Loki?” He clutched his chest. “If I wasn’t so self-assured, I might become jealous.”

You set your laptop down and sat up, rubbing his thigh. “Darling, I’m sorry…” Tom turned and smiled at you. “… but there is no way you can compare to Loki.” You burst into giggles and took off running, Tom fast behind you. He crouched down at the entrance to where the stairs are. The only thing between you and freedom was your husband.

“Take it back.” he growled.

“No. You are impressive, Tom. But Loki has the cock of a god.”

“One of these days you are going to have to eat your words.” Tom’s face broke out into a grin.

“Make me, Hiddleston.” you grinned back, bouncing back and forth.

He stood up, smile gone. “You don’t really want that, darling. Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, what, you have Loki staying in the spare bedroom?” you mocked. “Get real, honey. Loki is a fiction and you are the man who plays him. You are my husband and I love you, but no one could fuck me like a god.”

Tom sighed. “I warned you, darling. If I catch you this time, I will show no mercy.” He chuckled. “And neither will he.” he muttered under his breath.

You barreled towards him before attempting to duck under his arm as you shoved all your body weight against him. Tom rolled his eyes and easily lifted you onto his shoulder.

“Put me down, Tom!” You pounded your fists against his back.

He carried you up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and walking towards a chair in the corner.

“Why am I here, Tom?” you glanced around.

Tom gestured to the other side of the room. “Ask your boyfriend.” he smirked.

You spun around to see a flash of light dissipate in the air. To find Loki standing there. In full armor.

“Now Thomas,” his voice deep and resonant. “We haven’t officially discussed my title.” he smirked as he strolled to where you are sitting.

Loki hooked a finger under your chin and took you in.

“What do you think?” Tom asked from the corner. He shifted in his seat. “She’s feisty.”

“Excuse you?” you snapped back. “I don’t know what you think you are playing at Hiddleston, but…” You stood, wagging your finger at him. Loki snatched your wrist, pulling you back against him.

“You married well, Thomas.” Loki hummed. Tom smiled from his chair. Loki cupped your cheek. “Very well.”

As he pressed you against his torso, you noticed Loki’s erection hard against you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off… again.

“Tell me, pet.” His fingers ran down from your temple to your chin. “Is this how you imagined it?”

Your brow furrowed. “Imagine what?” You pushed away from him, only to slam back against Tom. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is…”

“Enough!” Loki yelled and turned away. “I know all about what you say about me, dove.” He settled into the chair once occupied. “How you read stories about my prowess in bed.” He took off his boots and wrist guard. “Drooled over art of my cock.” With a flick of the wrist, he removed his tunic and armor, leaving himself in just his trousers. He leaned forward licking his lips. “Dreamed of me fucking you.”

You gasped and glared at Tom. “YOU TOLD HIM!?”

“Not that he needed to.” Loki shifted in his seat and lowered his trousers just enough to pop his cock free. “Any hacker could find your browser history. And reading stories about being fucked by me and your darling Thomas…” Loki clicked his tongue as he stroked his shaft. “… naughty.”

Tom reached over and cupped your face. “Is this the fantasy, darling? Me AND him?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Just say the word.”

You stared up at him and then your eyes trailed down to find Tom sporting a raging hard on. You shifted your weight and peeked around Tom to spy Loki still stroking himself. He gave you a wink.

“I don’t have all day.” Loki called out.

You had to admit the thought of the whole scenario was too erotic for words. Your mouth was suddenly dry, all the moisture in your body, pooled elsewhere.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Tom smiled and leaned in to kiss you, slipping your straps down off your shoulders. You reached out and cupped his cock through his jeans. A flash of light covered you and Tom, causing your clothes to disappear.

“Much better.” Loki growled from his seat, now naked as well. He motioned the two of you towards the bed. “Go on. Entertain me. Show me how well you fuck your wife.” His lips curled into a devious grin.

Tom eased you onto the bed and crawled on top of you. He could sense your nerves. “Just think of it like when we met on set. And my modesty sock fell off?”

You chuckled and nodded. Tom nipped at the spot behind your ear and you let loose a soft gasp. His hands traveled down to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipple into a hard pebble.

Loki grunted through his teeth.

“Darling…” Tom moaned, twisted so you were on top. His fingers find your folds wet. “Wet already?”

“Of course she is.” Loki commented, he stood and walked towards the bed. He ran his hand down your back and cupped your ass before slipping down, plunging a long finger inside of you.

He hummed. “Thomas, if you don’t move things along, I may just take her myself and make you watch.”

“Why don’t you both take me right now?” you purred, placing kisses along Tom’s neck and chest while Loki curled his finger inside of you and Tom lazily played with your clit.

“What a splendid idea, pet.” Loki commented. “The best idea I’ve heard so far.” He grabbed you by the waist and hauled you up, placing you on the bed on all fours.

Tom shifted around to be behind you, smoothing his hands over your ass. He bent over to whisper in your ear.

“Remember darling, how you commented about the cock of a god?”

You noticed Loki kneeling in front of her. His cock dripped pre cum from the tip. He was big, even bigger than Tom.

“Fuck me….” you hissed. Tom pushed into you with a snap.

“As you wish, darling. But now it is also time to eat your words.”

Your jaw dropped open to snap back at Tom, when Loki pushes his cock into his mouth.

You groaned against his cock, gagging slightly as he pushed most of his impressive length down her throat.

Loki groaned. “Thomas, she is exquisite. Why have you been hiding her away?”

Tom gripped your hips and snapped against you. “The same reason I hide everything away from you. I don’t want to share.”

You moaned as they thrusted into you in conjunction. Loki was more forceful than Tom. You hollowed your cheeks to suck off Loki.

“You’ve never had a problem sharing before.” Loki growled and pulled Thomas towards him, leaning over you by the scruff of his neck.

Loki’s lips pressed against Tom’s and he moaned. Loki pulled Tom’s head forward and slipped his tongue into Tom’s mouth. Tom groaned as he did the same.

You overheard the lips smacking and the mental image tipped you over the edge and you screamed around Loki’s cock and clenched hard around Tom, shuddering.

Loki pulled away and chuckled. He lifted your face to stare at him. “Did you cum little pet at the sounds of me making out with our dear Thomas?” Loki averted his eyes to stare at Thomas, who had pulled out of you, blushing. “What a naughty girl.” He shifted to lie back on the pillows. “My turn, Thomas.”

Thomas grunted. “She’s not prepared for me yet.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “Whose problem is that?” Loki spread his legs wide. “Come here, pet, and ride me.”

You crawled over to Loki and straddled his hips. You grabbed his cock and lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh god…” you moaned as you settled against his thighs.

“Yes I am.” He gripped your hips and rocked you back and forth.

Tom stared at Loki. “Can you at least hand me that bottle?” He gestured at the bottle of lube on one pillow.

Your eyes widened. “You’re not going to…”

Loki magicked the bottle into Thomas’s hand. He squirted some on his fingers.

“You’ve been training, haven’t you? Wearing the plug I got you?” Tom’s hand slid between your cheeks, massaged your tight entrance, pressed you against Loki’s chest. “Or is that something else you have been lying to me about?” He slowly sunk his well lubed finger into your ass.

“FUCK…” you hissed. Tom stilled as did Loki to allow you to adjust.

After a few moments, Loki gave you ass a soft smack. “Pet…”

You rocked up and down on him as Tom slowly plunged his finger in and out of you. Soon he added a second one and you cursed again as he scissored them inside of you, opening you up.

“If you would train properly, this would be easier.”

Loki cupped your face. “And next time it will be me.” He kissed your lips. “Although I must say, fucking your cunt is a treat. So wet and tight.” He growled.

Tom pulled out his fingers and squirted out some more lube and ran his hand along his shaft.

“Loki…” Tom gave the god a knowing glance.

“Right…” He pulled you tight against him and kissed you with a passion. His fingers found your clit and stroked it.

Tom eased into you, he panted when he was fully seated against your ass. You were so incredibly tight around him.

“My god… darling… why have we… Loki….” Tom threw his head back when he gently thrusted into you.

Loki released your lips softly, a small trail of saliva connecting your two lips. Your eyes locked for a moment and you saw it, those same kind eyes. Loki smiled which turned to a smirk and soon he was full on grinning.

He bucked his hips and gasped. “You clenched even tighter around me.” He leaned down to purr in your ear. “Let’s see how you milk my cock as you come undone.”

The two of them alternated thrusting into you. Soon you were reduced to a whimpering moaning mess. The only words you knew were “yes” and “don’t stop.” Soon your orgasm washed over you, stronger than ever before.

“FUCK!” you screamed in a now hoarse voice. You spasmed and clenched around both of them before your vision went white.

“Ah… AH!” Loki moaned as he thrusted twice before spilling inside of you. Tom soon followed with a deep grunt, filling your other hole.

You fell against Loki’s chest, sweaty and spent. Loki smoothed down your hair. “You were exquisite, pet.”

Tom crawled beside the two of you, rubbing your back. “You did so well, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek and lips and then pecked Loki’s lips.

“Hmm…” you hummed, still coming down for your high. “Thank you.”

Loki pushed the two of you up and leaned you into Tom’s arms. “Why don’t the two of you get cleaned up and meet me downstairs?” He licked his lips, taking in your form. “We have much to discuss.”

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