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#the last ones were more detailed I just wanted to think of like.. a really quick goofy one with simple choices
helen-with-an-a · 1 day
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I am an Adult pt 3
Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3
Word Count: 3.3k
Description: R gets a girlfriend
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It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.
After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. She felt like she was checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.
And then you got a girlfriend.
Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.
Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.
“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.
“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.
“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.
“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.
“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”
“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.
“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.
“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.
You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.
Y/N💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x
Lena💚: By rselves? Like a date???
Y/N💙❤️: Yes x
Y/N💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??
Lena💚: Yes
Lena💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?
Y/N💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3
Lena💚: Can’t wait 😁
The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.
You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.
“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,
“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.
A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!
“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed
“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.
“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.
Y/N💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......
Lena💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......
After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.
“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.
“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.
“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.
“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.
“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.
Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.
“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.
“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.
“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.
“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.
“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.
“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.
“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.
“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.
“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.
“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.
Y/N💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x
Y/N💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x
Lena💚: ahahahahaha
Lena💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?
Y/N💙❤️: Whichever u want x
Y/N💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x
Y/N💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey
Y/N💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x
Lena💚: Tell em
Lena💚: Can I tell my team?
Y/N💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx
Lena💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!
Lena💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢
Y/N💙❤️: ugh RUDE.
Y/N💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x
Lena💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe
Y/N💙❤️: so kind of u x
Y/N💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x
“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.
“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”
“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.
“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.
You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.
“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.
“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.
You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.
“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.
“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.
“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.
“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.
“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked
“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.
“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.
“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.
“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.
“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.
“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”
“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.
“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”
“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.
You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.
“Does she treat you well?”
“Sí,” you answered honestly.
“Do you treat her well?”
“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena
“Can we meet her?”
“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.
“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.
“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.
“When is she coming to Barcelona?”
“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.
Y/N💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x
Lena💚: WHY???
Lena💚: WHAT DID U DO????
Y/N💙❤️: Alexia knows
Y/N💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x
Y/N💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x
Lena💚: I am dead
Lena💚: I am going to die
Lena💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????
Y/N💙❤️: She wont kill u
Y/N💙❤️: I wont let her xxx
Y/N💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
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welcometomyoasis · 2 days
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To all the love letters I wrote but never sent | Xu Minghao
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Synopsis: what happens when your best friend, minghao, finds the secret stash of love letters you’ve been writing to him over the past few years?  Minghao x gn! reader | fluff, best friends to lovers | w.c | warnings: mention of a drug (minghao is said drug) | not proof read A/n: happy birthday @haecien! Idk, when i think of you i think of letters… can you tell?
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For years, you’ve been utterly and hopelessly in love with your best friend, Minghao. 
At first, you thought it was just a passing phase of infatuation. You know the one which happens when you begin to get a little too close to your best friend? It’s the time when you begin to sit a little closer to them, you begin to lean into them, share secrets with them, stare into their eyes as they talk and then watch as their eyes stare back intensely at you. Your mind starts to make weird connections that maybe these actions aren’t so platonic anymore? Maybe, just maybe there’s a spark between the two of you? 
You didn’t really bother to think too much about it, thinking that the phase would eventually run its course, that it would eventually pass. He’s your best friend after all. There’s going to be some level of connection or intense emotions shared between the two of you. It will pass, and then everything will go back to normal.
Oh you were so wrong. What you thought would be a simple passing phase of infatuation turned into a full blown crush, one which you could not control. Everything about Minghao was so infuriatingly intoxicating. You hated how attentive he was, you hated how pretty his eyes were, you hated the way he had with words, you hated all the details you noticed about Minghao because they only made you fall in love with him more. The more details you noticed about Minghao, the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted him, and the more you needed him. He was like a drug, one that you couldn’t get enough of. You lived off the high of being near him, all while hating the fact that he was yours, but not in the way you wanted. He was your best friend. Not, your boyfriend. 
You hid your feelings of course, behind a smile and the facade of a supportive, loving best friend, out of fear your feelings would change the friendship you held so dearly to your heart. You were scared your feelings would frighten him, chase him away. Because as much as the proximity between you and Minghao pained you, it gave you the pleasurable high you never ever wanted to come down from. 
But the pain of being near someone who you believed would not, and could not love you back was overwhelming. It began to consume you. You needed an outlet. You needed a way to write down all the feelings you had for Minghao, just in a way he would never find out. 
So, you settled on pouring your feelings out through letters. You guided your pen across the paper, letting the ink act as your messenger for the heartfelt words you longed to tell him. Whenever you felt like your feelings for Minghao were too much, you would write. You chuckled at how silly it was, writing letters to someone who was never supposed to receive them. Still, it must have worked because writing everything down helped to soothe the pain in your heart until it was only a dull ache. 
Months and years passed. Your stash of secret love letters seemed to only grow thicker with each passing day. And you swore to yourself that Minghao would never find out about the letters. 
Or, at least that was what you thought. Life always seemed to throw you unexpected curveballs, though, not all of them were bad. 
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃 
“Y/n! Do you have my charger? I think I left it in your room the last time I was over!”
“You… Hao! You’re always leaving things over, maybe you should just move in! It should be in one of the drawers at my desk. Try the one on the bottom left!”
Snickering at your frustrated tone, Minghao walked over to your desk. His eyes scanned the books and sticky notes scattered across your desk. You would never change would you? You were always going to be that messy person he met on the first day of grade six in school. Well, that was just one of the many, many things he adored about you. 
Flushing at the thought, Minghao shook his head. He needed to find his charger to charge his dying phone, not charge the (definitely not platonic) feelings he had towards you that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Crouching over your desk, he pulled the bottom left drawer open. He clicked his tongue once again when he saw his charger lying within a mess of twisted cords and wires. He picked it up, and shut the drawer. He was going to have to teach you the art of tying your wires together neatly, again. 
As Minghao was about to get up, a shiny box tucked beside your desk caught his eye. Pulling the box up with him, he lightly swept his hand across the top to remove the dust that had piled on there. He shook the box gently. What was in it? Since when did you have this box? Raising it to his eye level, he inspected the box closely. Noticing some writing at the bottom, he squinted. 
“To all the love letters I wrote but never sent”
Love letters? Slightly taken aback, Minghao almost dropped the box. He knew you were hopelessly pining after some guy for years. You had told him that. It pained him to know your heart belonged to someone else, but he always told you to go for it. You never know, maybe the guy you like liked you back. Somehow, you never did. Wanting to respect your boundaries, he never pushed you further than that. 
Minghao sighed. He should really put this back. This was obviously your private stash of love letters to the guy you were pining after. He gripped the box tightly at the thought of you hunched over, pouring your heart out on paper to someone that wasn’t him. His heart clenched. You’ve loved this guy for years, and he did want to know who this idiot was. Which idiot were you so afraid to confess to? Maybe it was Junhui, one of your other best friends. You two were close, and he knew Junhui had a small, tiny crush on you. Minghao growled a little, Junhui…. That little… The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he got. 
Minghao was torn. He really wanted to know who you loved. But no, he would never invade someone’s privacy and breach their trust like that. He would never do that to anyone, especially not to you. 
“Hao?”
Your voice broke Minghao out of his intense train of thought. Alarmed, Minghao peered up at you, “I’m sorry! I saw this shiny box! I didn’t open it though!”
You stared at the box in Minghao’s hands, wide eyed. He found it? Fidgeting on the spot, you bit your lip, trying to calm the hot flush that was rising quickly up your face. You knew Minghao was telling the truth, he wouldn’t open the box. It’s just the thought of him finding that box out of all the things you had littered around your room. It was embarrassing and horridly nerve wrecking.
Noticing your discomfort, Minghao spoke gently, “Y/n, I’m really sorry. I’ll put it back.”
Impulsively, you shook your head. Your brain was fried, your emotions were going into overdrive, but something inside told you that it was okay to let Minghao know. It was finally time for you to tell him. You loved him. 
You took a deep breath, “You can open it.”
“Y/n, you don’t have to… this is your personal box…”
“Hao. It’s okay. I want you to.”
Staring into your eyes intently to make sure it was really okay, you affirmed his wordless question with a slight nod. 
Minghao set the box on your desk, and gingerly opened the lid. Picking up the stack of letters gently, Minghao shuffled through them quickly, noticing how the date of each one went back further and further. He inhaled sharply. You must really love this guy… Setting his sights on one where the title was bolded and written larger than the rest, he pulled it out of its place between the rest of the pieces of paper.
He let his eyes run across the title.
I think I love him. 
He unfolded the letter, scanning through it quickly. 
I think I love him.  The way he laughs, it’s so melodious.  Like a harmony sung by the most prestigious choirs. 
I think I love him.  His eyes, the way he looks at me.  It brings out my inner most desires.
I think I love him.  It’s the little things he does like carry my bag, buy me a drink. Even the way he helps me tie my wires.
I think I love him.  Minghao, that’s his name.  I want him so badly but alas, what I want will never transpire. 
Minghao? That’s his name… He rereads the letter again, staring intensely at the line that his name is written. Him? The idiot he was talking about earlier… It was him? 
Minghao’s eyes widened in shock. You loved him.
As the realisation kicked in, a tiny glint in his eye appeared. You loved him. 
Letting a toothy grin spread across his face, he looked at you excitedly. 
You reeled back, slightly unsure as to why Minghao was acting in such an unMinghao-like manner. Why was he smiling? He literally just found out that the person you’ve been pining after for years was him. Shouldn’t he be creeped out? Yell at you? You’ve been writing about him for years…
“I LOVE YOU TOO!” Minghao exclaimed.
You stilled. What? Did you hear him wrongly… 
You chuckled nervously, “Hao? Say that again?”
Shaking his head, Minghao walked over to you in a few big strides. Shoving the letter right in your face, Minghao repeated himself, “I SAID, I LOVE YOU TOO!”
Watching Minghao’s bright eyes, his words finally began to sink in. You yelled, “WHAT? YOU’RE TELLING ME, WE COULD HAVE ALREADY BEEN DATING BY NOW?”
Minghao nodded, laughing at your reaction. That was what he loved so much about you. Your reactions were somehow always so perfect. 
Using his free hand to lift your hand in front of your face, Minghao intertwined your fingers. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Yes, we could have… but it’s not too late to start? In fact, now that we both know, how about we ditch the work we were going to do and go on our very first date?”
Scrunching your nose and looking at Minghao adoringly, you replied with a kiss on his knuckles, “Of course. And you know. Just in case you didn’t already know. I love you. A lot.”
Minghao leaned towards you, “No, no, I know. But I think you’re going to need to rewrite the description of your box.”
“And what’s that?”
Clenching your hand a little tighter, Minghao replies with a smile, “To all the love letters I wrote but never sent, don’t worry because he got them anyway.”
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis
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POWERLESS
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VALENTINO X DAUGHTER READER
PART 2 (part 1)
Summary: Being Valentino's daughter, you should be used to this, right? You should know him, right? But you really don't.
Genre: Smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Psychological
Note: Val is referred to as Daddy throughout, Readers age is not specified
HUGE WARNING: RAPE! PHYSICAL ABUSE! NON-CON! MANIPULATION!
Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, sexual themes, contracts, manipulation, Val is an asshole, Val is a pshyco, Biting, no foreplay, yelling, threats, talk of breeding, virginity taken, naive reader,
Let me know if I missed any!!
(I do not condone any actions of Valentino in this piece of fiction)
NOT PROOF READ (I spent way to long writing this leave me alone :,))
After that shoot, Daddy had taken you to a lot of his shoots. His goal in his words is to “Get you accustomed to Daddy’s working environment,” you never know why exactly he wants you to get accustomed, but you assume it's so then you can hang out comfortably in Daddy’s studio. You don't mind it, obviously. Despite the inappropriate activities that go on you enjoy spending that time with Daddy. 
Though something you notice is how every shoot you go to, Daddy appears more deranged and.. ‘regal’. He acts more powerful towards his employees, they seem frightened, intimidated by his demeanor. You don't like it, not one bit. Every single shoot he gets worse, and somehow he pulls you closer.
That first instance of his questions wasn't the last, either. But it feels so normal, and you hate it.
But do you really? 
Daddy makes you question it every single day. He doesn't take you to all of his shoots, but it's become enough that you feel normal when he nibbles on your ear and asks if you like what you’re watching. And every single time you answer the same way, ‘Yes daddy, I love it,’ or  just a simple ‘yes’. Though you don't understand what's happening for most of it. It all feels so odd, so different, yet normal. 
One day when you didn't accompany Daddy to his shoot, you instead hung out with Vox for the entire day. 
Vox is also different to you. You don't often hang out with him- or at least not as much as Velvette. He's cool, and he's also beloved by many. Just walking through the office with him made you feel like you were being watched, judged, scorned by many. But Vox makes it clear that just being with him makes people adore you. 
You’ve never been an official member of the Vees, more of an honorary member that doesn't really do anything but be treated. And at first, that label fit. You enjoyed being treated. 
But now you just feel like a puppy following its master. No matter who you’re with in the Vees. You feel like a dog, like a pet, like an object. 
You never go out alone. You don't know why, any time you’ve brought up the idea Daddy detailed that if you were alone anywhere someone would hurt you. But more and more you’ve been craving it. That individuality from your family, or daddy. 
One day, perhaps. Perhaps you could go out in the world without your leash, without an owner with you. You could be individual, be different. People could know you, not as ‘Valentino’s daughter,’ but as-
“Baby, have you picked an outfit yet?” 
Daddy snaps you from your daze, you realize this entire time you’ve been thinking. Daydreaming. Ruminating. But you have picked an outfit, at the very least. It's a very cute skirt and sweater combo, a red heart pattern across both garments. Though the skirt is a bit short for your comfort, you remember Daddy complimenting the skirt earlier. And you’d like to make him happy. 
“Yes Daddy! Sorry,” You say, running from your bedroom to where Daddy is adjusting his coat. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head in dismissal as he looks over at the outfit you wear. He squints his eyes, making an audible hum before leaning down to your level. “How about we make it sexier?” Daddy asks, pinching your cheek between his claws. 
“I guess, what were you thinking?” Daddy chuckles again at your words, slightly darker in tone than you’re used to. 
Daddy takes a long cigarette in his hand, seemingly appearing from thin air as he holds it in his hand. He then lights it quickly with a lighter that also seems to appear from thin air. The smoke is pink, a familiar pink that draws you in and makes you dizzy.
“I was thinking,” Daddy pulls his hand across the cigarette, before tilting his hand towards your bare legs. In a quick moment the smoke glows and envelops your legs, tickling up your legs to your crotch where it stops; and before you can even ask what he's doing the smoke disappears, a pair of black fishnet stockings where the smoke once was. “Something like this,” 
You look down, immediately feeling exposed. You’d never wore anything like this before, and with the skirt it feels even more dirty. 
“I-I don't know Daddy, it seems kind of expo-”
Daddy leans down, placing two hands on your shoulders and the others on your waist. You sometimes forget that Daddy has four arms. It's so normal that you forget that you only have two of them. 
“Oh c’mon baby, I’m not raising a prude, am I?” 
You gulp, trying to look away, but Daddy immediately uses one of the hands on your shoulders to tilt your head back to him. Though his eyes are soft. He's just helping you, yeah. He's just trying to make you feel more comfortable. 
“Am I?” He asks again, leaning closer to your small frame. 
“N-No Dad- Daddy.. I'll wear it,” You assure, placing your hand against his fluffy cuff. Daddy hums, not really saying anything nor moving, however. It's odd, he just looks at you, a grin on his features. 
In a flash, Daddy places a long kiss against your forehead, pulling away and uttering “Good girl,” Then he turns around, placing a lower arm around your waist as you both walk to the door. 
For a good moment, you’re both in silence again, going down floors to the studio you are filming in today. You don't mind being in silence with Daddy, especially if he's touching you so softly like he is now. He seems to be thinking about something, probably about the shoot, or about Angel, or Vox. 
And then the silence breaks. 
“You know,” Daddy purrs, voice low and raspy. He moves a languid hand to your hair, tangling his fingers into the mop and tilting your head up. He leans down. “You’re such a good girl for me,” you flush, feeling one of his hands caress the side of your cheek. 
“Th-thank-”
“You could make us so much money if I didn't want you all to myself~” Daddy rasps, pulling his cigarette to his lips and taking a drag, blowing it into your face. You mumble, “Wh-what..?” You feel dizzy, veins on fire and legs weak. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Mi Amor..” Daddy chuckles beneath his breath, leaning so close you can taste his sweet breath on your own. Closer, closer. You can feel his tongue against your lip. What's happening, you can think straight. That smoke has made you dizzy. 
Why is Daddy so close, why is he about to kiss you? Why is he pushing his tongue into your mouth, why are his lips tightly against your own. Why are you moaning, why is he pulling on your hair. It's like he's sucking the life out of you. You can't get enough. Don't stop. 
His tongue and your own intertwine, a lascivious taboo in the air. He groans deeply, an evil in his voice. How long have you been doing this for? Why haven't the elevator doors opened? What is happening? 
Before you can blink, his lips are away and you are both stepping out of the elevator onto the studio floor like nothing happened. 
“Daddy, what-” 
“What's up, baby?” 
You pause, unsure of yourself even. 
“I-I don't know..” 
“Odd, maybe you should get that checked out,” Daddy laughs. 
Maybe you are just delusional.
_________________
You'd been shooting all day. Every time you look at the clock another hour has passed it seems. Now you'd been shooting for about.. 
13 hours. Straight. 
The sets had changed, the actors had changed, the only thing that doesn't change is Angel dust. He's there, he has the star role in every single shoot. It's odd, really. You don't know why Daddy doesn't try other stars, just Angel. He looks so tired, and you are to. Daddy had gotten you food and drinks whenever you request, but it looks as though he's not treating angel with that same kindness. 
You want to talk to Angel, ask him what's going on, maybe sneak him some food. But you don't. 
You're a coward. 
But you don't want to be. Maybe you can be better. It's not like Daddy will be shooting for much longer. 
“What's this one, Daddy?” You ask, holding an iced coffee Daddy ordered Kitty to get for you after you said you were tired. Really you were hoping if you said you were tired, Daddy would end the shoot and take you home. But instead, of course he gave you a coffee, kisses your forehead, and kept doing the shoot. 
“This scene is Angel doing a bunch of guys because he doesn't have any money to pay for his pizza, part 4,” 
“Part 4?” You question, squinting your eyes. Daddy nods, wrapping an arm around your waist as he takes a sip from your iced coffee. “Well in this part the Pizza man is bringing all his friends to teach angel a lesson.” Daddy utters, looking towards the dressing room where Angel currently is getting ready. The set is already set up, the only thing missing being the actors.
“I don't know..” You say, looking over at the door where Angel is emerging in a sexy pink lingerie set. “Doesn't he look like he's been taught enough lessons?” You ask, gesturing towards the spent looking Angel Dust.
“Oh baby,” Daddy purrs, placing a hand on your fishnet clad thigh. “No such thing as enough lessons, you know this,” You nod, looking over at Angel again as he talks to one of the other actors. 
“I just-” 
“Baby,” 
You look up at Daddy, or rather he makes you as he places a hand on your chin. His eyes are once again glowing a deep pink behind those glasses of his, darkening when they bore into your own. You shiver, the proximity making you dizzy as it did before. 
“Don't question me,” 
You gulp down saliva painfully. 
“Y-yes Daddy, m’ sorry Daddy.” 
“Good girl,” 
____________
The shoot ends up lasting for another 2 hours before you ask Daddy if you can step out for a bit to ‘Get off’. Daddy of course let you do so, which you knew he would. You think he likes the idea of you enjoying his work that much, but you could never be sure. 
What he doesn't know, and what you were anxious to do is that you snuck into Angels dressing room. You want to talk to him, more than anything. You don't know why, you want to know why so badly however. Your plan is to catch him next time he comes in the change his clothes, and you can ask him all the questions on your mind. 
The biggest one is if Daddy is always like this to him, and why he is. Does Daddy hurt Angel? You don't think so, but the idea becomes more possible with every minute. 
Angels dressing room is interesting. There's wigs, clothes, and a nice plush couch that you plan to sit on. Theres pretty pink glows filling the entire room as well, making the room fell rather warm and comfortable.
You make your way towards the couch, marveling in the pretty light pink accents and the cute heart shaped pillow. You wonder why there's a couch, anyway. It's not like you've ever seen Daddy let angel rest, let alone sit down. But you digress, settling for sitting in the corner of the couch with the pillow on your lap. 
And then you look up. 
It's one of Vox’s cameras, looking directly at you. 
What were you thinking? Fuck, why did you even do this? Vox is going to tell Daddy, and Daddy is going to come in and get you so you can't ask Angel any questions! You should have hid, not sat out in the wide open! Your heart is racing, your breath is short. You’re about to pass out. This anxiety, why is it so heavy? Daddy would never hurt you 
“”Don't question me”” 
Fuck. 
Maybe if you hide, Daddy will think Vox is just kidding. Oh what are you saying? Daddy knows you, he’ll know just what you’re doing. 
You look over at the camera once more, before settling your eyes on the door. You’re just going to have to endure the inevitable, you just have to. There's nothing you can do. You've fucked it.
I can only blame myself. 
The door is open in a slam, the mirror next to the window shattering on the impact. It's Daddy he's angry, fuming, furious. He closes the door behind him and locks it faster than you can blink, and you realize he's not wearing his coat anymore. His wings are fluffed in anger, and worst of all it's all directed at you. 
You stand, walking towards him.
“D-Daddy.. I'm so sorry I didn't mean- I'm just-” 
Daddy throws a hand against your neck, pushing you towards the corner next to the couch with a ‘SLAM’. you cry out in pain and fright, dangling from the floor so your eyes are at his level. 
“What makes you think you can just go doing whatever you want?! You think you can be more powerful than me?” Daddy's hand tightens around your neck. Not so tight you can't breath, however.
“No- I,” 
“You’re fucking powerless! You think you can tell me how I treat my employees?! You’re nothing but my idiot daughter who seems to have forgotten her place,” 
“That's not what I was d-doing I was just going-”
Daddy throws you by your neck to the couch, lunging onto you like a predator. 
“You were just going to ask Angel if he was okay? Gonna see if he was having any fun?” Daddy hisses, taking the your hands when they try to push him off and pushing them above your head. 
“News flash, baby. He isn't. And that doesn't fucking matter, that bitch makes me money and that's all I care- I own him. 
“Daddy you cant-” 
“You really think you can help Angel? This is hell, you only care about your family and your friends, nobody else. Especially not fucking whores like him,” 
You sob, tears making your eyes sting. 
“You think you can protect him? Can protect anyone?” 
You shake your head, Daddy’s lower arms holding your thighs down against your body, making it hard for you to move. 
“This isn't right! You c-cant just hurt people-” 
“I can do whatever the fuck I want with him- I own him. Just like I own you..” Daddy growls, stroking a hand against your cheek.
You look at Daddy, confusion in your teary eyes. 
“Wh-what?” 
“I was the one that got you killed, the reason you’re down here. It's all for your own good. You signed the contract, Baby,” 
You flinch when Daddy strengthens his grip on your wrists. 
“The contract? I thought that was so I could live with you- I don't-” 
“Learn how to read contracts, baby,” Daddy growls, moving his hand from your cheek so he can summon the golden contract, holding it above your eyes so you can read it. 
And he's right. 
‘This contact also give Valentino complete ownership of your soul, your body, and your being. Valentino may use you for anything he pleases, no matter what it does to you.’ 
You cry out, tears burning your cheeks as they fall. 
“How could you do this to me, Daddy?! You’re supposed to protect me-” 
“It's so I don't have to share you with any of these fucking assholes in hell, I can have you all to myself. This contract does keep you safe,”
You whine out in pain as Daddy's claws dig into your thighs. 
“I dont-” 
Daddy forces his large hand around your throat again, cutting off your words. 
“I do what I need to get what I want, if I what I want is to own my daughter so she won't ever fuck anyone but me, I'll do it. If I want to beat my employees when they fuck up, I can. And if I want to hold you down against your will and Fuck you into obidence, I will take that fucking virginity and tear it up just like your mother's!!” 
Daddy growls.
“Fuck me? Dad I'm so confused-” 
“That's right, little slut. I was planning on going slow with you on this but I am so fucking done with letting you off the hook. I spend way to much of my fucking money on your pretty ass to not get what I want out of it-” 
“Dad- I thought you-” 
“You thought wrong, little baby. Now lay back and take it like a fucking champ or I'll make you.” 
“No! You can't! Stop-” 
“No one's saving you,” Daddy growls, tearing your panties apart like they are made out of paper. 
“Scream and cry all you like, I will make you understand that this behavior is not fucking getting past me! You will fucking learn!” 
You sob. 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
“Good.” 
This picture is so different to the Daddy you once knew. All this time, was Daddy just this cruel man? Where had you gone wrong? Why couldn't you just stay silent? This is your fault. He isn't just playing. You thought he was, but this is all to real to be playing. 
“P-please stop..” You whimper, legs shaking as Daddy pries your legs apart to reveal the wetness of your pussy. Daddy chuckles. “Oh baby, we’re far past begging.. you should have thought of that beforr you kept fucking fighting me-” 
Daddy laughs again, pressing a finger against your clit. 
“Now should I be nice to you, give you a little foreplay, or do you wanna keep being a little bitch and I'll just have to fuck you no prep?” 
You cry, sniffling as you shake your head. 
“FINE! No prep it is then! I'll just fucking force my way into that ungrateful cunt!” Daddy growls flipping you around so your ass is in the air and your head is pressed into the couch cushion. 
“You’re so fucking lucky I love you, or you would be torn to fucking shreds.” Daddy places two hands either side of your head, the other fumbling with his belt. You hate that sound as much as you love it. Why do you kind of like this? The anticipation is as awful as it is exciting. There must be something else wrong with you. 
“D-daddy.. please be gentle..” 
“You think you deserve that?” Daddy asks, nibbling your ear as you hear his belt discarded across the room. Next is the zipper. “Be honest, Baby,” 
You cry, “No..” 
“Good girl, stay still for me.” 
Already? Stay still? No. Stop. You want him to stop, you do, you promise. You’ll be good just- 
The whole entire length of Daddy's cock is shoved in you in one go, forcefully and painfully. You see red, you scream, you wail. And he doesn't give you time to adjust either, holding you down by your shoulders and hips as he takes away your virginity. 
Every thrust hurts, every thrust make you scream, but you can't do anything to stop it. 
“Oh baby, you feel so fucking good on my cock- how did I even control myself?” Daddy growls, dragging his pink tongue across your neck. You feel his saliva wetten your skin. 
“Daddy..” 
Daddy’s thrusts speed up, uncaring for your sobs. 
“That virginity of your’s feels so good being broken baby.. if I could breed you I would- oh imagine your swollen belly with all my kids~ sexy..” 
“N-no-” 
“Oh yes baby, just feel my cock.. imagine how many times you could have me plow you baby,” 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
This whole thing is a mixed bag. What does he want? Does he want you to be his? Because you already are. What does he get out of tearing you down.. 
He gets power over you, and a pretty little cocksleeve, it seems. 
“Baby, you’re such a sexy thing when you're scared, you know that?” Daddy asks, tilting your head so you can see his dark large silhouette over your own. “I just love it when your frightened of me,” 
“Do you like it baby?” 
You are getting Deja Vu, Deja Vu of when this all started. When he held your face and squeezed your thigh. 
“Y-yes Daddy,” 
“Good girl,” he says, just as he did then. 
A clawed finger meets your clit, rubbing it softly in contrast to the ravenous pace he sets in your hole. Yet it feels better and better every second. What was once a white hot pain is now a red hot pleasure. You can stop it. Your daddy is being so evil, so wretched. 
And you don't want it to stop. 
“Baby, what happened to all that crying? Are you enjoying yourself..?” Daddy asks, pulling out for a moment as he forces your body back onto it's back, making him seem even bigger and more scary. 
Daddy forces his cock back into your pussy, you feel it all the way in your stomach. 
“Don't worry baby,” thrust, “Daddy won't judge you,” thrust. You whimper, legs dangling in the air pathetically as Daddy takes control of you. 
“A little..” 
“Perfect,” Daddy growls, forcing his tongue down your throught until you gag. It's like that kiss before, yet more evil, sinister, and the other one was such a blur.
This one is more vivid than the sun. You can feel everything, you can feel his sharp teeth against your own, you can feel his tongue brush against yours, you can feel his large hand grope your breasts, you can taste his pink saliva. 
His cock is so big inside of you, you can't deny, and you think Daddy can tell as well. Because he reaches for your hand, pressing it against your exposed stomach where your sweater rose up; and low and behold, there is a prominent bulge where his cock bullies your cunt. 
“Do you feel that Mi Amor? Do you feel Daddy’s big cock tearing you open?” 
You moan, loudly. 
“Y-yes-” 
Daddy chuckles, leaning down to your neck. He grips your jaw, tilting it. 
White hot pain is all you feel, Daddy’s teeth sink so deeply into your neck you can feel yourself go lightheaded. But you cum. You cum so hard the pain doesn't even hurt. It feels so good, better than anything you’ve ever felt. 
Daddy cums to, dumping a large amount of seed into your needy cunt until you can feel it dripping back out of you again. Daddy chuckles at this, pulling his teeth from your neck so blood begins to drip from the wound. 
“So much cum, baby. No one has ever made me cum that hard..” 
You nod, dazed. 
“I sent everyone home, baby, so don't worry about everyone seeing your powerless little body after it got pounded, got me?” 
You look up at Vox’s camera. 
“Y-yes Daddy.” 
You’ve never felt more lost. 
But at least you have Valentino, right? 
Right? 
--------
Part 3???
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i've decided to commit 😌 i'm writing "worst behavior" now. thank you to all who left input 💗
i have already written a little bit, so here's a teaser for you:
EDIT: THIS HAS BEEN POSTED HERE
pairing ✭ dom!seonghwa x bratty!f!reader
synopsis ✭ You were being a tease. Everyone knew it. You knew it. The whole party knew it. But not a single soul knew it better than Seonghwa. 
content/genre ✭ smut MDNI 18+ (content warnings below the cut)
warnings (for the teaser) ✭ name-calling (he calls mc a "whore" 😀), grips her jaw really tight (it's made clear that it's something she enjoys)
✭✭✭✭
As you touched up your makeup in the mirror of your boyfriend’s luxury apartment, you couldn’t help but admire the reflection. You looked incredible in your black minidress. Its lace detailing was what had originally caught your eye, and you happened to know that your boyfriend was a fan of it too. Though, maybe not for a night like tonight.
“Baby, are you almost ready?” You heard him call from the conjoined bedroom. 
As you finished one last swipe of lip gloss, you called back, “Yep!”
He was smiling when he peaked his head into the bathroom, but you saw that smile immediately drop in the reflection of the mirror when he saw your outfit.
You pouted, “What?” And you turned around to face him.
“You’re not wearing that dress.” He said plainly.
With a roll of your eyes that he did not like in the slightest, you retorted, “I like it.”
“Yeah, well,” with a couple of steps in your direction, he pushed you up against the counter of the sink, the marble digging into your backside, “You look like a whore, and I don’t want my colleagues to see you like this.” 
You felt giddy with pleasure at how upset he was getting, and all it took was a simple dress. Still, you kept up the annoyed act, “Well, your colleagues can keep it in their fucking pants because I’m not taking it off.”
He gripped your chin with his ring-clad hand and forced you to look him right in the face, “I don’t like this little attitude, baby. Are we gonna have a problem tonight?”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You were so focused on the unyielding grip of his hand on your jaw, that all you could manage to think about was the hand dropping lower to grasp your neck. Before things could go any further, though, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Sir, are you ready? The car is here. And we are already running late.”
“One second,” your boyfriend responded to his assistant. Returning his attention to you, the grip on your jaw tightened, “You are so fucking lucky that we’re running late or I would punish you right fucking now.”
You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the whine that bubbled up in your throat at his words. Because, let’s be honest, there was nothing you wanted more than for him to do just that.
✭✭✭✭
notes ✭ if you'd like to join the taglist for this, the form is here, or you can just let me know 💗 i'm shooting to finish this by friday, but we'll see.
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soleminisanction · 20 hours
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I got a bee in my bonnet and spent last night crunching these numbers to confirm a long-held suspicion of mine, and now I'm going to do something with them even if it's only interesting to me. So.
I went through and tallied up all of the fics AO3 currently (as of 3/27/24) has under the tags "Trans Tim Drake," "Nonbinary Tim Drake," "Genderfluid Tim Drake" and "Genderqueer Tim Drake," since I figured that cast a wide enough net without committing myself to reading every fic vaguely tagged Trans Character to figure out which character they were talking about.
I then did the same for Dick, Jason, Damian and Bruce and, after comparing those numbers against each other and against the total number of fics each character has under their general tag, followed up with Duke, Babs, Cass, Steph and Kate, and then Kon, Cassie, and Bart for good measure.
The results confirm the suspicions I was going into check and are really interesting, to me at least:
Despite having far fewer stories overall than Jason, Bruce or Dick, Tim has by far the most stories tagging him under the trans umbrella (653 out of 58,395) and is the only member of the Bats for whom at least one full percent of his stories fall under that category (1.12% to be exact.) He actually has more total trans stories than Jason and Damian combined (308 out of 71,120 and 255 out of 42,607, equaling 0.43% and 0.59%, respectively) and outstretches the 2nd place ranker, Dick, by over a hundred (who clocks in at 438 out of 79,057 -- 0.55%). Bruce amusingly has by far the most stories overall (90,305) but the fewest trans stories (185) for the lowest percentage among the boys (0.2%).
The only one who comes anywhere close to matching Tim percentage-wise is Bart, who has far fewer stories to his name but a ratio of 62 out of 5,717 for 1.08%. I was thinking maybe Young Justice might have a higher percentage than the Bats due to their strong queer fandom but that only really proved true for Bart, with both Cassie and Kon coming in at only 0.2% and 0.28% trans umbrella percentage respectively (actual count 6 out of 2,874 and 39 out of 13,746).
Cassie's numbers correspond with the fact that women just, do not get a lot of these stories, at all, even compared to the general lack of attention they're paid by fanfiction spheres in general. Steph and Kate both clocked in at falling 0.17% under the trans umbrella (29 out of 16,638 for Steph, 5 out of 2,897 for Kate); Cass got 0.13% (21 out of 15,769) and Babs only 0.07%, the lowest percentage out of anyone I calculated for (11 out of 15,785). Duke's showing was a respectable 0.55% (34 out of 6,166) which puts him about even with the rest of the boys.
All of which I just went through to confirm a gut instinct I've had for a while: even in light of the noticeable trend in fandom towards increased visibility for trans and other queer-gendered people over the last decade and a half or so, it's a notable Thing for the DC comics fandom to explore with Tim Drake in specific.
And that doesn't even take into account things like the over 200 "Tim Drake is Catlad | Stray" fics, which almost always have some element of queered gender or at least femme'd sexuality to them, far outstripping any of the other Robin boys' spins in that AU (those counts stand at, respectively: Damian - 11, Dick - 33, Jason - 79, Tim - 242). Or the 11 fics logged under the "Tim Drake is Batgirl" tag, a category that doesn't even exist for any of the other male Robins.
(What makes that last one extra hilarious to me that most people don't know one canonical version of Tim has been a member of the Batgirls.) Part of me wants to use that parenthetic detail as a segway to ramble about the various canon snippets I think probably contributed to this, from Tim being presented as "the pretty one" who most often gets the "looks like his mother" comments to the fact that he is the only male Robin who's ever cross-dressed for an undercover mission and even though it only happened once the Internet will never forget Caroline Hill.
But this post is long enough as it is and I don't really have a point beyond I think this is interesting and cool so I'm going to leave off here for now and put my numbers under a cut so people have the raw data to look at if they'd like to.
TL;DR - Based on the numbers, the internet believes Tim Drake is more likely to be trans than any other member of the Bat-family or Young Justice, and I think that has interesting implications about his character and fandom. It's neat.
Data Taken: 3/27/24
Tim Drake: 58,395 Trans Tim Drake: 513 Nonbinary Tim Drake: 46 Genderfluid Tim Drake: 89 Genderqueer Tim Drake: 5
Dick Grayson: 79,057 Trans Dick Grayson: 399 Nonbinary Dick Grayson: 15 Genderfluid Dick Grayson: 23 Genderqueer Dick Grayson: 1
Jason Todd: 71,120 Trans Jason Todd: 286 Nonbinary Jason Todd: 17 Genderqueer/Genderfluid Jason Todd: 5 (4 have both tags and are the only ones tagged Genderqueer Jason Todd)
Damian Wayne: 42,607 Trans Damian Wayne: 215  Nonbinary Damian Wayne: 37 Genderfluid Damian Wayne: 3 Genderqueer Damian Wayne: 0
Bruce Wayne: 90,305 Trans Bruce Wayne: 180 Nonbinary Bruce Wayne: 5 (2 also tagged Trans Bruce Wayne) Genderfluid Bruce Wayne: 1 Genderqueer Bruce Wayne: 1
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Total Trans Umbrella Tim Drake: 653 Total Trans Umbrella Dick Grayson: 438 Total Trans Umbrella Jason Todd: 308 (313 if you count the GQ tag separately) Total Trans Umbrella Damian Wayne: 255 Total Trans Umbrella Bruce Wayne: 185 (187)
Percentage Trans Umbrella Tim Drake: 1.12% (1.11825) Percentage Trans Umbrella Dick Grayson: 0.55% (0.55403) Percentage Trans Umbrella Jason Todd: 0.43% (0.43307 or 0.44010) Percentage Trans Umbrella Damian Wayne: 0.59% (0.59849) Percentage Trans Umbrella Bruce Wayne: 0.2% (0.20466)
----
Duke Thomas: 6,166 Trans Duke Thomas: 20 Nonbinary Duke Thomas: 14 Genderfluid Duke Thomas: 0 Genderqueer Duke Thomas: 0
Barbara Gordon: 15,785 Trans Barbara Gordon: 11 Nonbinary Barbara Gordon: 0 Genderfluid Barbara Gordon: 0 Genderqueer Barbara Gordon: 0
Cassandra Cain: 15,769 Trans Cassandra Cain: 15 Nonbinary Cassandra Cain: 6 Genderfluid Cassandra Cain: 0 Genderqueer Cassandra Cain: 0
Stephanie Brown: 16,638 Trans Stephanie Brown: 27 Nonbinary Stephanie Brown: 2 Genderfluid Stephanie Brown: 0 Genderqueer Stephanie Brown: 0
Kate Kane (DCU): 2,897 Trans Kate Kane: 4 Nonbinary Kate Kane: 0 Genderfluid Kate Kane: 1 Genderqueer Kate Kane: 0
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Total Trans Umbrella Duke Thomas: 34 Total Trans Umbrella Barbara Gordon: 11 Total Trans Umbrella Cassandra Cain: 21 Total Trans Umbrella Stephanie Brown: 29 Total Trans Umbrella Kate Kane: 5
Percentage Trans Umbrella Duke Thomas: 0.55% (0.55141) Percentage Trans Umbrella Barbara Gordon: 0.07% (0.06968) Percentage Trans Umbrella Cassandra Cain: 0.13% (0.13317) Percentage Trans Umbrella Stephanie Brown: 0.17% (0.17429) Percentage Trans Umbrella Kate Kane: 0.17% (0.17259)
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Kon-El | Conner Kent: 13,746 Trans Kon-El | Conner Kent: 19 Nonbinary Kon-El | Conner Kent: 19 Genderfluid Kon-El | Conner Kent: 1 Genderqueer Kon-El | Conner Kent: 0
Bart Allen: 5,717 Trans Bart Allen: 40 Nonbinary Bart Allen: 20 Genderfluid Bart Allen: 1 Genderqueer Bart Allen: 1
Cassie Sandsmark: 2,874 Trans Cassie Sandsmark: 4 Nonbinary Cassie Sandsmark: 2 Genderfluid Cassie Sandsmark: 0 Genderqueer Cassie Sandsmark: 0
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Total Trans Umbrella Kon-El: 39 Total Trans Umbrella Bart Allen: 62 Total Trans Umbrella Cassie Sandsmark: 6
Percentage Trans Umbrella Kon-El: 0.28% (0.28371)  Percentage Trans Umbrella Bart Allen: 1.08% (1.08448) Percentage Trans Umbrella Cassie Sandsmark: 0.2% (0.20876)
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danibee33 · 2 days
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Part III of undercover!Ghost 🩶
ghost x reader (callsign: Hela)
word count : 4.7k
>>> [PT 1] [PT2]
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You aren’t avoiding Ghost. Not really..
Ok, maybe you are.
The week since the undercover mission had been busier than usual, so it’s not like you don’t have an excuse for your absence- you did have other duties and responsibilities to attend to collaterally to the one-four-one. But were you using said collaterals to possibly steer clear of a certain person..? Well, that’s not important.
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“Been awhile, lil’ LT..”
You return Soap’s grin, looking up at him as you both take tentative steps- him reaching out first, and you deflecting,
“D’ya miss me that much, sergeant?” You say, eyes skimming his form, looking for any weakness in it, waiting for the right opening.
It wasn’t a planned meet up, you just needed something to do- you’ve been so restless lately, like no matter what you do, it’s never quite enough to stem the relentless flow of thoughts. Which is how you found yourself on the sparring mats opposite the equally restless man at such an ungodly hour.
“Always miss ye, hen..” Soap grunts just before lunging for you, attempting to swipe your leg but inadvertently opening himself up for you to get your arms and legs wrapped around torso- using your body weight to bring him to his knees,
“Steamin’ Jesus, lil LT- worse than a fuckin’-”
Whatever insults he might’ve tried to spew are cut off when you suddenly readjust, but he recovers quicker than you expect- lifting up and bringing you along with him,
“If ye wanted to cuddle, ye could’a just said so..” Soap says, that flirty little lilt at the edge of his words, the same one you’ve heard him use at the bar a hundred times now. And the lopsided smirk on his lips is all too familiar as he tightens his grip around your waist–
God, he’s such a fuckboy…
With a breathless groan, you switch your hold again, crossing your arm over his face in order to put distance between you while still keeping him mostly trapped,
“Shut it, MacTavish. I’m still winning, aren’t I?”
You go back and forth like this until you’re both struggling to breathe and your muscles begin to quiver with fatigue- throwing jokes and jabs easily. It had always been effortless to talk with Soap, banter with him came naturally, but you think it’s only because you two are alike in that way. Never at a loss for words to fill a silence.
And by the time you’re both thoroughly exhausted, all sweat and panting breaths as you stick uncomfortably to the mat, does he roll to his feet, brushing his hair back in the same motion,
“Always a pleasure, ma’am.” He grins, dwarfing your hand in his own as he tugs you up, “And we’re, uh, we’re goin’ out tomorrow night- or well, tonight, I s’pose.” he fumbles over his words in that adorable way he does sometimes, like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher, “If ye’d like to come.. I can have LT text ye the details.”
At the mention of Simon, you feel the very tips of your ears begin to burn. The sergeant’s prompt too quickly bringing back all the thoughts and memories you had been trying to purge yourself of by coming here,
“Um.. Sure. No promises, though. It’s been busy, ya know..” You say, fighting to keep your tone flippant and casual- but John MacTavish is more keen than you might have given him credit for.
He walks by your side out of the gym, obviously searching for the right way to bring it up, until finally it’s almost like you can feel his own curiosity win over his better judgment,
“Ma’am.. Did somethin’ happen? On the last mission?” The next few seconds are filled with him trying, and somewhat failing but it’s amusing nonetheless, to explain why he’s asking- mostly due to your unusual absences since returning that night. The way you’ve been avoiding the entire team in favor of doing paperwork in your office-
Which you never did because you said you hated being back there on your own.
No, you always preferred to take care of those things in the common spaces, where the chances of having company were always high.
“Was it seein’ LT’s mug? I ken that’s always a bit of a shock for first timers, but-”
“What?” You interject, eyebrows raised in surprise, “No.. no, it has nothing to do with that..”
Well, that’s also not entirely true, is it? But you don’t think it’s for the reasons Soap’s imagining.. It’s more about the fact that everytime you even catch a glimpse of the giant man, you’re reminded of how handsome he was on his knees in front of you, how big his hands felt over your thighs, how his tongue-
“Well, just think ‘bout joinin’ us, won’t ye?”
The sheer amount of hope in Johnny’s voice pulls you out of your reverie, replacing the memory of amber eyes with bright cerulean ones, and that signature fucking smirk,
“Fine! Just chill out with the puppy dog eyes, MacTavish.. Begging like a damn dog.” You concede, waving him away and turning toward your hall without waiting for his reaction. But he doesn’t let you get far before you hear his chuckle, husky and chocked full of guile, bounce off the concrete walls,
“Woof, woof, lil LT..”
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Ghost doesn’t like new places.
He doesn’t like being unfamiliar with his surroundings, because he spends too much fucking time being unfamiliar in nearly every surrounding he’s sent to. He doesn’t like leaving things up to chance, doesn’t like how much more stress accumulates around his shoulders and neck- it annoys him, the ache.
But Johnny and Gaz had just been so damn adamant about trying out a new pub. One on the opposite end of town, and he can admit it’s nicer than their usual hole in the wall, but still.
Ghost doesn’t like new places.
Well, that was until he caught sight of you. And then he found himself slightly more drawn to the low lighting that danced over your skin, the way it glowed in your eyes as your survey the bar-
“Hel’s ‘ere?” He asks, downing the last nip of bourbon in his cup.
Johnny’s head whips up then, spotting you in an instant- and there’s something about his response that causes Simon’s gaze to narrow at the shorter man. It’s too… giddy, too reverent for his liking.
“Aye! Invited her the other night.”
That ache in his neck returns but somehow significantly worse.
The other night? You had been with Johnny the other night? When this entire fucking week he hadn’t been able to get three fucking seconds alone with you-
Ok, no, he hadn’t worked up to trying to just call or text, that felt too impersonal. He was shit at all that anyway, he needs to see your body language, needs to analyze all the little expressions that give away so much more than words do. But you had somehow found a way to beat him at his own game. You turned into a ghost, only ever catching your silhouette from the corner of his eye, hearing your voice but never being quick enough to be within a few meters of you.
And possibly the worst was when he would enter a room you had been recently in, the smell of you permeating the air, causing his heart to stutter just so with every deep breath.
Fucking hell..
But here you are. And at Johnny’s request, no less.
Ghost despises new places.
Yet, he does think he could learn to like the overly enthusiastic beat of the music when he sees your hips sway to the rhythm as you wait for your drink. You’re in tight jeans and a black leather jacket that fits your figure like a goddamn glove- and he swears he can feel the silk of your skin by just memory alone, the curves of your body already etched into his mind.
“Gonna get a refill.” He grunts, already walking away from the table with the empty glass in hand.
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The sound of a cup being sat on the bartop snaps you back to the present, followed by a heady rush of chills when you hear the baritone of Simon’s voice far closer to your ear than you expect,
“So, she lives.”
You let out a small breath, turning to find the burly breadth of his chest taking up nearly your entire field of view- clad in black from head to toe, which doesn’t surprise you one bit, but it’s not his usual hoodie and jacket. No, this time he’s in a black henley that fits more like a second skin, the fabric deliciously stretched over his pecs and shoulders, the top button left open to give you just a peek at the silver chain glinting underneath and… is that a tattoo?
“She does..” You say, meeting his eyes.
And you really should know better, with too many of your nights haunted by the deep amber of his irises- but the instant it happens, it’s like you’re back in that damned office all over again. The music grows faint, and the people around you turn into little more than blurs at the edge of your vision. He’s all you can feel, the heat of him, the intensity behind his gaze, the way his head tilts softly to the side, studying you as if he might be recommitting your features to memory- not that he needs to.
Because you’ve haunted him just as much. You’ve been the bane of his existence this last week, and somehow the only thing he can see when he shuts his eyes. The sole focus of his loathing and his desire-
“Ma’am, your whiskey sour-” The bartender announces from behind you, effectively breaking the spell you’ve been so wrapped up in right before you hear another small clink, “and a bourbon, neat.”
Without hesitation, Simon leans closer, big arm reaching around you to pull his glass from the bartop and the black surgical mask covering his mouth and nose down in the same motion. He keeps that same heavy gaze on you, your own eyes growing wider at the sight of his face, his crooked nose and scarred lip. You watch him take a short sip, but just as quick as it happened, his mask is back in place, and he’s stepping back,
“C’mon. Table’s over ‘ere.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever felt whiplash quite like seeing Ghost turn his back on you, easily carving a path through the patrons that fill the space-
But you are damn sure the infuriating Brit isn’t going to get the last word in this.
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Ghost can feel your stare, feel how it’s directed right at the back of his skull. A perfect kill shot if he were a betting man. But he can also hear the quiet click of your boots following after him, the tightness in his jeans growing more noticeable with every step-
Fuck.
“Lil’ LT! Glad ye’ could make it out!” Johnny shouts over the crowd, blue eyes cast in mischief and that open sort of admiration that Ghost is sure the man couldn’t hide even if he tried.
You round the table, looking up at the Scot with a devastating smile on your lips before nudging his shoulder with your own,
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure your ego wasn’t too damaged after kicking your ass this morning, sergeant.”
“Ach! -”
Ghost can hear Johnny sputtering on and on in that terrible mashup of English and Scottish slang that’s always grated on the lieutenant’s ears- but whatever he’s saying doesn’t quite register. Instead, he can only really hear the way your laugh brightens the dim room, see the way your head tips back as you take another sip of your drink.
And it’s only then he realizes that he just wishes you would look at him like that. Wishes that he could draw the melodious sound from you, that he could be the reason you smile so brightly-
“Well, well, well-” the group looks over to see Gaz and Price meandering through the throng of bodies, the younger man with outstretched arms, “Hela! Thought you’d up and left our sorry arses!”
All Simon can do is grit his teeth as Gaz embraces you in a quick side hug, Price close behind with a warm grin even on his bearded face,
“And miss out on all the fun? You know me better than that, Garrick.” You say, raising your glass to the Captain in greeting.
So, no, Ghost doesn’t like new places.
But he can’t deny that as the next hour passes he’s smiled more than a few times at his team’s antics. And he certainly can’t say that he hasn’t missed the way you bring them all a little closer, your bubbly brand of forwardness allowing them to each get out of their heads, even if just for a little while.
“What’s this about you handin’ MacTavish's arse to him?” Price’s voice booms over the music, which has only seemed to get louder the later it gets-
Ghost watches you down the rest of your whiskey sour without so much as a flinch, your cheeks flushed such a pretty pink from the alcohol,
“I mean, is that really a surprise?” You shoot back, the man in question all but slamming his glass down on the table in rebuttal-
“Ooh- yer arse is oot the windae! I want a rematch!” Johnny’s words slur together just enough to give away how good he’s really feeling, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “Watcha say, lil LT? And this time we’ll have a proper judge, right Cap? No cheatin’-”
It really isn’t fair how you lean into him as you chuckle, that ache in Simon’s neck creeping up again at the sight.
Christ alive, why can’t he just get it together? Why does he care? You’ve never been one to shy away from physical touch… but fuck all if it doesn’t eat at him.
“Oi, who wants another round?” Gaz, thankfully interjects, drawing everyone’s attention with a collective and resounding sound off.
The others waltz away through the crowd in the direction of the bar, everyone but you- standing across from Ghost at the table, toying with the toothpick in your glass,
"Late night spar, huh?" You don't miss the added gruffness in his tone, or the fact that he refuses to look at you now, staring somewhere over your head.
And if you were a better woman, you wouldn't feel the need to play into his offputting display of jealousy- but you're you after all.. and he's Ghost. So, you give a little hum before plucking the tiny skewer from your cup,
"Couldn't sleep.." You shrug, looking up at him under you lashes, his eyes already on the maraschino cherry that drips down your fingers, "Figured I'd do something a little more productive since I was up anyway-"
Simon tracks your hand, falling right into your terrible little game as you bring the fruit to your lips- it's tooth achingly sweet when you finally bite into it, mixed with the burn of whiskey. And it's when the juice runs down your chin that you meet his gaze, swiping up the liquid on your thumb, he watches with a severity that sends a dangerous chill up your spine- not even daring to blink as you suck the digit clean.
You know he's keenly aware of exactly what you're doing, but that doesn't stop the lust and satisfaction from rushing through you at his deep growl- those coppery eyes darker than you've ever seen.
All too innocently, you flash him a smile, "I think I'll have one more.. you want anything, sir?"
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Ghost thinks he can feel the crystal glass in his hand begin to splinter under his grip, unable to tear his eyes away from the red stain on your lips- it's enough to drive him mad.
He gives you a curt shake of his head, knowing that if he had another drink, he might lose whatever vague sense of self-control he's clinging onto so precariously.
And instead of watching you walk away, he turns toward the pool tables, needing something to do with his hands- because if he clenched them any fucking tighter he think he might draw blood with the way his blunt nails dig into his calloused palm.
Without waiting for the others, he racks the balls before picking up a cue stick and breaking the formation- moving around the table just as Johnny sidles up to him,
"Did’nae take ye for a billiards guy, LT.." He says, quickly working to chalk up his own cue.
Gaz and Price follow soon after, eager to join in on teams- and it works, for a short time anyway to distract him. If he can just stay focused on making each shot, then he won't have time to think about you. But, that's a rather silly notion, isn't it? Because sure enough, just as he leans in to take a shot, he spots you bump elbows with his Scottish counterpart.
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"Here to give me some good luck, lil LT?" Johnny looks down at you with a lopsided grin, both hands wrapped around the cue stick as he leans on it.
You take a slow sip of your drink, just enough time to glance at Simon- sleeves now pulled up to expose the thickly corded muscles of his forearms and the faded black ball cap on his head turned backwards. He's calculated in his shot, efficiently knocking a striped ball into the nearest pocket-
"I don't think you want any of my luck, sergeant.." You drawl, eyes flitting up to see his deep blue ones already on you, "Can't say I have the best track record when it comes to that."
Soap's chuckle is warm and laced with silk in your ears, watching him copy his superior's movements, finessing his own cue to score a bankshot. Gaz is next, followed by Price, and you follow them ardently, moving around the table as they go until it's back to Ghost-
"Aye, LT-" Johnny calls, "Why don't you show Hela how to do a jump.."
You've managed to get close enough to the towering man now that he has to look down at you before glaring back at his sergeant,
"'m sure she can figure it out on 'er own, Johnny."
"I've actually never really played." You say before your better judgment can stop your mouth from moving- maybe you have had a little much to drink.
And the way Simon's jaw clenches, having taken off his mask as the other patrons slowly dispersed, makes your core tighten- biting the fleshy inside of your cheek between your teeth. You shouldn't push it. You’ve done enough of that already, haven’t you?
Yet, in one swift motion, Simon's hand is on your hip, the other taking the half-empty cup from your grasp before positioning your body in front of his. It isn't exactly gentle, there's a roughness to his movements that put you on edge, a stiffness in his voice that only stokes the the fire in your belly,
"Hold it 'ere.." You take the stick in your hand, the wood still hot from his touch, "and 'ere."
When you grab it this time, he covers your hand, easily repositioning it further down- "Like that."
Very suddenly, you're regretting putting yourself in this situation, so swept up in the feeling of Simon all but dwarfing you, his proximity far more intoxicating than any of the alcohol you've consumed tonight, that you don't notice the sly smirk on Gaz's face- nor the knowing looks shared between your teammates.
In your defense, Simon makes it hard to concentrate on much of anything with the way he slowly leans into you, urging you to bend forward- his hold light but still strong enough to make the slightest adjustments to your stance,
"Lift your elbow now." He mutters, his breath tickling over your exposed shoulder, your jacket left slung over the nearest chair. But it's his hand that catches you off guard, because unlike every other movement he's made with purpose and intention, a man simply doing a job; when he moves now, it's slow, his fingers grazing up your side before softly caressing the skin of your arm,
"Good."
You shift on your feet, your body feeling like it might combust at any moment, the one word spoken in his brassy accent threatening to unravel you on the spot.
The next few moments seem to pass in a blur, you feel him lean in just a bit closer, his left arm bracing over you on the edge of the table as his right hand lands right behind yours on the stick. Whatever he does after is more like a magic trick than logic, rushing the tip downward on the ball with enough force to nearly jerk you forward, but with enough finesse that the little sphere hops off the table- knocking what you assume was the intended target into its pocket.
It takes longer than you're proud of to recover, scrambling to put a bright smile on your face, moving when he does and hoping to whatever deities might exist that it's dark enough to hide the red hue of your cheeks,
"Look at that, a natural, ma'am!" Gaz shouts, clapping a wide palm over your back- and you try to force out a laugh, try to keep your eyes away from the dark form that's moved back towards the table now.
Away from you.
And you wish it didn't make your stomach twist, seeing him pull his mask back on and fixing his ballcap again so that the bill sits low over his eyes-
"Headin' out, Simon?" Price speaks up, an unlit cigar propped lazily between his lips now.
Simon gives his signature nod, which barely a perceptible gesture, but you're all used to it enough by now. The captain, already out past his bedtime, is happy to begin rounding up his own belongings as well, urging the sergeants to get it together and get to the truck,
"I call shotgun!" Soap calls over his shoulder, already barreling towards the exit, Garrick hot on his heels,
"Fuckin' hell.." Price grumbles, looking back at you, "Need a lift, love?"
"No, I'm good. See you tomorrow, Cap." You say, a tired smile reassuring him enough that you would get home-
And just like that, the once bustling pub is more like a ghost town when you step out into the crisp night air, watching the tail lights flicker away. You had gotten a taxi here, but you feel too wired to call for one now- your body felt like it was vibrating, still so lost in the fading memory of what happened inside. But maybe you were just imagining it.. maybe you had let those lines between reality and fantasy blur a little too close for comfort.
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Simon climbed into the driver's seat, his hands hitting the steering wheel before ripping the hat and mask off and throwing them onto the dash-
"Fuck."
What was he thinking? He should have never given into it, never touched you the way he did, held you, gotten close enough to feel you against him again. Should have never fed the monster.
God-fucking-damn MacTavish and his annoying fucking antics, never knowing when to quit. Ever since the undercover mission, the man had been a hound with a scent. Testing and prodding and sticking his damned nose in places it didn't belong-
Simon loathes new places.
But there you are. Standing under the milky glow of the street lamp, your hands tangled in your hair and your cheeks puffed in frustration. And so fucking beautiful he can't stand it.
He should leave. He needs to go back to base, needs to take a shower so cold it hurts, needs to bury himself in work just like you did. He needs, he needs, he needs.
Yet, he doesn't do any of those things.
No, like the awful, depraved man he is, he steps out of the truck and makes a beeline right for you- which, looking back on it, might not have been the best course of action because the instant you see his hulking frame he watches how you go on the defensive. Your posture stiffening and your hand reaching for one of your many concealed weapons if he knows you like he thinks he does.
That's ok though, he imagines you could stab him right here in the parking lot and he wouldn't mind one bit. Hell, you could slit his throat and he would smile as he bled out at your feet.
Thankfully, you do neither of those things.
And as soon as you're within reach, he's got those big hands framing your face, crushing his lips to yours.
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Shock is all you can register at first. Your mind and body flooded by adrenaline, ready for a fight when you initially saw the shadowed figure coming for you. But in those same few seconds, you recognized him, recognized every purpose driven stride, the steady sway of his shoulders-
Though him kissing you hadn't necessarily been on the list of things you had expected.
You're pulled to your tiptoes, and for a moment you think it might be a dream, the way he audibly groans when your lips begin to move against his. But he doesn't relent, and you don't want him to. So you lean up, wrapping your arms around his neck as soon as your muscles can catch up to your thoughts.
You feel his tongue gently glide over your bottom lip, a gentle urging for you to reciprocate- which you're more than happy to oblige. The kiss turning somehow more heated, sloppy even, something you had never experienced yet something that you never want to end.
But all too soon, he does pull away, his fingers threading through your hair, "I'm sorry-"
Again, hearing Simon Riley apologise was just not on the bingo card for tonight.
He presses his forehead to yours, your heavy breaths mingling with his, remnants of whiskey and bourbon filling your nostrils,
"Sorry?" You look up at him, eyebrows tightly knitted, "For what?"
"The mission.. I shouldn't have- I didn't-" --he stumbles over his words, scarred lips finally pulling into a grimace, "Hel, is it true?"
The way his gaze bores into you feels intimate, like he's trying to peel you apart, "Gonna have to be a little less vague there.. I'm smart, but I can't read minds."
Your breathy chuckle helps to ease the tension, if such a thing were possible with how close he still holds you,
"That you've never been with anyone, like that.."
Oh. GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU, MACTAVISH.
When you take a step back, he reluctantly lets you go, his expression faltering for a moment- and you hate it. Hate that you had possibly hurt him- but you just needed space to put it all together, to try to explain.
"Yes.." his face falls even more, and it's like you can feel the shame that radiates from him, your hands reaching for him on their own, fingers tangling into the fabric of his shirt, "But I wanted it.. I wanted.. you. I want you- jesus, fuck- I'm so bad at this."
"You didn't say anythin'.."
You shake your head, a laugh huffing through you as you look to the inky sky above, "Would it have changed anything?"
"I wouldn't have-"
"You wouldn't have done what you did? Why?"
That seems to stump him, his mouth opening and then closing, opening again, "You deserved more."
"Simon, just because I've never had sex doesn't mean I'm completely naive.." You initiate the kiss this time, mimicking the way he had held your face, pulling him closer, "I'm under no illusion that it's suppose to be this magical moment-"
He eagerly returns your kiss, an arm wrapping around your waist as you continue, "And, let's be honest, having 'The Ghost' on his knees was waaayy better than sex."
You feel his smile right before he bends down and hoists over his shoulder,
"Simon!"
But, your shrieks and giggles fall on deaf ears, hands smacking at his back in a lame attempt to wiggle free, "Mm.. no, no, keep screamin' my name, sweet girl. I like the way it sounds."
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a/n: this one got away from me… but your honor, they’re down so bad for each other 😭 thank you for reading!!
[PT 4] (coming soon)
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cadybear420 · 2 days
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Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming
Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.
This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves. 
A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl. 
The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC. 
One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.
But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems. 
Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it. 
The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.
And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest. 
I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them. 
But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though. 
That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case. And that’s fine, because sometimes we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. 
That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit. 
So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on. 
Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay. 
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year
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Dark Era Akutagawa embroidered shirt my beloved
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boltgunkiller · 2 months
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i find it damn near impossible to get mad at santana’s behavior in 3x06 and 3x07 because i genuinely do think she had the right to be lashing out at everybody. sue me idk
#idgaf if she was mean to kurt and blaine when they were “trying to help” in IKAG#they were the first performance & santana was put under the spotlight by the guy who fully outed her to the ENTIRE STATE OF OHIO & now she#-was expected to be just happy and jolly about some bullshit lady music week to celebrate women as if that has anything to do with wtf just#-happened to her by finn’s hands & of course she was upset because she was only back in the new directions because finn basically#-blackmailed her into rejoining like hello!!! so of course she was snippy with them… and tbh i don’t even think she was being that mean.#i think she’d have reason to be even MEANER actually. that reaction of hers was completely reasonable. and honestly it must’ve hurt seeing#-two people who are meant to Get what it’s like.. participate in that? especially when the last thing she wants is her sexuality that she’s#-still very insecure with Being broadcasted. to the whole damn club. it’s already about to be shown to all of ohio with names addresses#-details about her whole personal life etc like she really didn’t need that spotlight right then she needed to have space and love and#-support… none of which she got.#also the glee writers tend to make a character do a bad thing and then have another character do an INFINITELY WORSE THING#and then they’re like “oh but. the first character was being so mean. this absolutely deplorable and wayyyy too far reaction is definitely#-justified now because that was just so mean of the first character ugh!” and basically spins what happened into showing the first characte#-as the most evil person alive??? as if that’s even remotely true.??? and yes this is about santana cause they do this w her#and quinn. a LOTTTT. like a LOT. rn i’m talking ab santana though so i won’t cover quinn sorry fabrayers… one day!#like yes santana was being mean sure whatever. but finn didn’t have an excuse IDGAF what the hell anybody says about the body shaming stuff#it was mean. yes that’s true. but i don’t think you understand how different those two things are#they’re both bad but the outing is infinitely more despicable and personal and filled with malice and it’s so much more endangering in a wa#-that can’t even be compared to the dangers of body shaming you know. like they’re completely different and the outing thing is just too#-personal and Wrong like. idk. just get that through ur head they’re both so different and finn went way too far and personal. he could’ve#-just mocked her looks if he really wanted to get back at her. mocked ANYTHING else. but he chose the worst thing you could do to somebody#who is scared and in the closet and hurting#also yes santana’s written to be rude a lot of the time but her degree of rudeness in those episodes was Overplayed and def not in characte#like it didn’t feel much like santana’s brand of meanness it was 100% the writers trying to justify finn more because they continued to#-paint finn as the good guy who chose the high road… when that couldn’t be further from the truth thanks. he didn’t choose the high road he#-completely blackmailed santana and used her to make him look good basically. so you can’t change my mind on that Def being a writer issue#and just them Hating Women. especially santana. thanks.#also this is all coming from somebody who loves finn. so. 🤣#i fuckingggg hate seeing people say santana was mean and had no right to be doing all of that in those eps.. BITCH YES SHE DID#like in other eps sure (<- nuanced topic/take) but this one? No. she was justified IDGAF. should’ve been meaner
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lucalicatteart · 1 year
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 8: !!NOTE: this is different from the past polls - rather than choosing a story action, you're picking supplies to craft a little makeshift boat (EX: wood will be the main platform, so there should likely be the most of it, however, if there were 100% votes for branches and 0% votes for rope, then it'd just be a pile of wood held together by nothing - keep them balanced reasonably, etc.))
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should get around the barrier by crafting a little boat to take a river detour….
~
Finally crawling out of his hiding spot in the brambles, he meticulously brushes the leaves from his clothes and composes himself, now fully focused on his generic traveler's map of the area... After checking it about 500 times just to make sure he isn't confused, he determines that going down the nearby river would likely still get him where he's trying to go, and hopefully be much less treacherous than wandering through haunted forests or confronting the stern gaze of the barrier guards..
It only takes about 10 minutes of following a narrower rocky path off the main road to reach a nice shaded spot of land next to a small river. He kneels in the grass, eagerly rummaging through his backpack for supplies, in addition to whatever he can scavenge from the edge of the woods. The rush of excitement slowly dissipates however, once he realizes that he.. actually.. might not know how to make a raft as well as he thought... Surely it's quite straightforward, no? Just.. make it look like it does in picture books?? There are no rules, as long as it floats, it works! Probably anyone could build one on intuition alone! ... maybe...???
.. Once again sinking into a cloud of anxiety, he slumps over, staring at the pile of materials with teary eyes, doubtful what to even do next.... How should he build the raft? Help him by using the poll to choose the appropriate amounts of materials (determined by final % of votes in that category)!
#paventure posting#polls#choose your own adventure#Hopefulyl this isnt confusing or anything?? I know it's different than the other ones. and I wont do them this way#very often or maybe not ever again. I just wanted something that was really short and easy since the last two has#*had such long explanation text and more effort going into like what different paths there could be and etc.#Since before I add a poll option I make sure that it's something that could actually be followed to it's logical conclusion and like#actually happen (like I didn't include 'fight the guards' in the last poll because obviously just realistically he would lose#and be sent to whatever this worlds version of jail is and then probably the story would end lol. It could then become about#strategizing a way to break him out like.. obviously you can still do something with that and it can still be interesting lol. but I just#mean it kind of derails things a little too heavily. if that makes sense. etc. etc.). But becaue I've been busier lately and since#the last ones were more detailed I just wanted to think of like.. a really quick goofy one with simple choices#So instead of dictating new story paths - for this time it's just .. help him build his raft that he needs to complete the last story#path that was chosen. By picking an option you're kind of adding to the amount of that option being done#if that makes sense. so for example if at the end of the poll it was 100% votes for flowers - he would just have a pile of flowers#with no raft or anything. If it was 100% wood - he would just have a pile of tree branches held together with nothing#etc. etc. Ideal measurements are probably at least over 50% wooden branches. and whatever of anything else.#As long as there's also rope lol. 50% branches and 50% flowers still wouldn't be anything really jhhj#ANYWAY..#Though it could go wrong I'm actually not expecting some sort of weird result. most people have voted very reasonably so far#and are not like trying to sabotage him or anything or choose the weirder choices. Like last time there werent that many#votes for sneaking around the barrier or trying to bribe the guards. I think people chose stuff they thought he could reasonably do#Maybe they want to see him and the little cat succeed in their endeavors#Though there was one person who reblogged a poll once saying something like 'everyone lets make him EVIL!'#which is also valid lol
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sysig · 7 days
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I like him a normal amount (lying) (Patreon)
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#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Max Vyer#Dexter Favin#Was I about to type ''Helix Mainfic'' in reference to these wh - I mean Technically but???#Anyway lol#Couple'a random Max's to start <3 Love him#So some of these were made with my .5 and some with my .3 - can you guess which ones? :3#The first one and the last two (and of me lol) were my .5 - the inner three are .3 ♪#You know it's gotten bad when it's not even an Idea necessarily just Want To Draw Pretty - I'm familiar with that pft#He's pretty tho! Love Max ♥#Man if Max's snap had come in the form of Fight rather than Flight - he's a twig but I doubt Anyone would've come out of that unscathed#Anger can make a monster out of almost anybody haha#Pretty boy ♥ My .3 is so fun for soft detailing! And Max is pretty much all soft details lol#Cryings ah </3 Dexter's mention of Max's emotions in his meetup with ZEX got me thinking!#Sadness really does trend low on the emotions he's willing to express in company - even when Dex has seen him cry before - like here#It was out of anger so much more than sadness - no wonder he was spooked by ZEX's sudden grief! Max is fairly private with sadness#Or at least he turns it into anger if he's backed into a corner - drinking by himself and making things harder for everyone else haha#And finally his and Dex's difference in the retelling of the story!! Hehe ♪♫#Since I first read Helix I've been under the impression that what Max told Katherine was - well - how he described it lol#A kind of self-deprecating joke at his own expense - thus his confusion at her reaction of seeming hurt#But that's not what he said at all! That's not even close to how he told it!! Hahaha ♪ Biased narration <3#I even got a second opinion and we shared the same interpretation so it wasn't just a matter of failing to pick up his meaning hehehe Max!#He's so rude ♥ Terrible man ♪ He's the worst <3
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westernsunshine · 2 months
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Like one of the side effects of my new pills is vivid and strange dreams, but idk how I would tell if I was experiencing that particular effect because my subconscious regularly sends me to the shadow realm anyway
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whateveriwant · 4 months
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
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fangisms · 6 months
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
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Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
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everyonewooeverywhere · 21 hours
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pairing ✭ dom!seonghwa x bratty!f!reader
synopsis ✭ He told you not to wear the dress. You did it anyway. And he's not usually very forgiving.
content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI
word count ✭ 2.2k
note ✭ this is lightly inspired by "worst behavior" by ariana grande
warnings ✭ name-calling (he calls mc a "whore" 😀, baby, pretty girl), grips her jaw really tight (it's made clear that it's something she enjoys), restraints (cuffs her to bed), blindfold, hwa is pretty controlling, protected sex, edging
✭✭✭✭
You were being a tease. Everyone knew it. You knew it. The whole party knew it. But not a single soul knew it better than Seonghwa. 
He’d been so generous to bring you to this party. It was supposed to be a classy event–one with nice dresses and well-pressed suits. Polished shoes and fancy perfumes. And those weren’t necessarily things you lacked, but your “nice dress” of choice had certainly taken some liberties. Specifically with how impossibly short it was.
If you were being honest, you hadn’t meant to tease him per say, but you knew that, if you wore the sluttiest dress you could find, your boyfriend would want to leave early. That meant you wouldn’t have to waste a perfectly fine evening at one of his boring, posh company gatherings. He had tried to stop you, too, but you had never been a very good listener.
✭✭✭✭
As you touched up your makeup in the mirror of your boyfriend’s luxury apartment, you couldn’t help but admire the reflection. You looked incredible in your black minidress. Its lace detailing was what had originally caught your eye, and you happened to know that your boyfriend was a fan of it too. Though, maybe not for a night like tonight.
“Baby, are you almost ready?” You heard him call from the conjoined bedroom. 
As you finished one last swipe of lip gloss, you called back, “Yep!”
He was smiling when he peaked his head into the bathroom, but you saw that smile immediately drop in the reflection of the mirror when he saw your outfit.
You pouted, “What?” And you turned around to face him.
“You’re not wearing that dress.” He said plainly.
With a roll of your eyes that he did not like in the slightest, you retorted, “I like it.”
“Yeah, well,” with a couple of steps in your direction, he pushed you up against the counter of the sink, the marble digging into your backside, “You look like a whore, and I don’t want my colleagues to see you like this.” 
You felt giddy with pleasure at how upset he was getting, and all it took was a simple dress. Still, you kept up the annoyed act, “Well, your colleagues can keep it in their fucking pants because I’m not taking it off.”
He gripped your chin with his ring-clad hand and forced you to look him right in the face, “I don’t like this little attitude, baby. Are we gonna have a problem tonight?”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You were so focused on the unyielding grip of his hand on your jaw, that all you could manage to think about was the hand dropping lower to grasp your neck. Before things could go any further, though, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Sir, are you ready? The car is here. And we are already running late.”
“One second,” your boyfriend responded to his assistant. Returning his attention to you, the grip on your jaw tightened, “You are so fucking lucky that we’re running late or I would punish you right fucking now.”
You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the whine that bubbled up in your throat at his words. Because, let’s be honest, there was nothing you wanted more than for him to do just that.
✭✭✭✭
The part was just as boring as you assumed it would be. Everyone was dressed for the part. A room full of rich people looking to show off their wealth. And, of course, Seonghwa was no exception to that, seeing as he’d brought his sugar baby with him, though you were certainly attracting a good bit of negative attention from the crowd.
Throughout the whole night, Seonghwa kept his hand on your lower back, dictating your every move and keeping you in his sights. Though it was clear he had additional motives. Motives fueled by the fact that he knew it drove you absolutely insane when he took control of you like that. Guiding you from person to person as he chatted away with executives from his company, always acutely aware of how you clung to him with your fingers playing with the edges of his suit jacket.
He’d occasionally pass you a flute of champagne off a tray motioned toward him by a waiter. “Thank you,” you’d whisper as the glass transferred from his hand to yours. And he would purposely brush your hand with his own as he gave you the glass. 
As he talked you nodded along to his every word, not paying much attention to what came out of his mouth. Too busy absent-mindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt, occasionally slipping your hand through them to feel his chest underneath the shirt. Each time, he’d remove your hand himself and cast a glare down at you. Only for you to grin up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.
When he finished chatting with a couple that had occupied his attention for the past half-hour, he turned his attention to you. He pulled you into his chest, it was an embrace that anyone around you would have thought was a cute romantic gesture, but you were smart enough to know that was far from the case.
“You’re really asking for it, huh baby?” he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Hwa,” you whined softly, “I wanna go home.” You wiggled in his embrace.
“Fine, we can go home, but I can promise you are in big fucking trouble when we do.”
✭✭✭✭
It only took two minutes from the second the car pulled up to Seonghwa’s apartment for him to be on top of you in his bed.
To your surprise things started off sweet. He kissed you softly, with his hands playing with the frills in the lace of your dress. His lips traveled from your own to your cheek and jaw. Leaving little bites in the wake of his kisses. When you gripped, his hair, your nails digging into his scalp, it was as if you’d flipped a switch in him. 
He was off of you in a second, and you pouted at his departure. You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched him slip off the bed and head to his dresser.
Your thighs rubbed together in anticipation. You watched as he stripped himself of his suit jacket, leaving him in his back dress shirt. He slid a condom into his back pocket and grabbed a pair of cuffs from the drawer along with a silk blindfold and vibrator. 
When he made his way back to the bed, you made a move to take your dress off, but he stopped you. Grabbing your hair and tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “The dress isn’t going anywhere.”
“What?” Your eyes widened at that news, “Why?” you croaked out, confused.
“Well, you like it so much, don’t you baby?” You nodded hesitantly at his question, still excited for the answer, “Then I don’t see any reason why I should take it off you. I might just have to fuck you in it.”
After cuffing you to the headboard and tying the silk cloth around your eyes, you heard him shuffle around the bed. He adjusted one of the pillows under your head, “Is that comfortable?” He muttered in your ear. 
“Yeah,” you breathed back. You were met with a kiss on the forehead at your reassurance. As much as you loved when he was rough with you, it was nice to always know that he genuinely did care for your well-being. 
He continued to kiss down your body while his hands groped you over your dress. You were so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin, the heat of his mouth as he nipped at your jaw and collarbone, that you failed to notice the faint buzzing noise of the vibrator when he turned it on.
You were made aware of its presence, though, when he pressed it to your panties, making you gasp and jump up slightly. You just knew he was smirking down at you. 
He just loved to watch you squirm under him. Watching you unravel without him even having to do any work. 
When he held the toy to your clit over your underwear, you moaned, loud, “Hwa, oh fuck!” You wiggled your hips trying to give yourself more.
He slapped in inside of your thigh, “Move again, and I’ll turn it off.”
“Please, baby,” you whined, “I need more.”
“Oh? You think you deserve more?” He smacked your thigh again, “After how horrible you were being tonight? You're lucky I don’t just tie you up and get myself off. You don’t want that do you, baby?”
You shook your head furiously, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please Hwa…”
He pressed the vibe harder into your clit, circling it around, building friction between your panties and your clit. You felt your stomach tighten at the continuous motion.
He noticed that you were close, “Oh are you close?” you nodded dumbly, “Yeah? Do you wanna come, baby?”
“Yes! Please baby, please!” You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, and you were on the verge of spilling over. But it came to a screeching halt when he removed the vibrator from you entirely.
You felt your eyes well up with tears of frustration, and he noticed it, “Oh, is my baby crying? Maybe if you hadn’t acted like such a whore tonight, you could get what you want.”
“Please..” you gasped out in a broken whisper.
“Patience baby,” when he said “patience,” though, he really just meant he wanted you to beg for it he wanted you to cry under him and beg for him to fuck you.
And beg you did, as he teasingly ran his fingers over your soaked panties, you continued to whine out his name, over and over and over again. When he finally moved them aside and ran a finger through your fold, he teased you, “God, could you get any wetter? Is this all mine?”
You could barely gasp out a “yes” before his fingers were inside you. “Fuck!” you choked out as he fucked you on his hand, watching as you unraveled for a second time. “Please, Hwa! I need more! Please!”
“Oh…baby’s gonna behave now is she?”
You nodded, “I’ll be so good, please.”
“Yeah? You want my cock, baby?”
“Oh god yes! I want it so bad,” involuntarily, you rolled your hips against his hand. Resulting in another smack to your thigh. Again, he waited until you were on the verge of cumming to pull away his hand. You tried to reach out with your legs to wrap them around him, but he was already sliding off the bed. From the shuffling you heard, you could tell he was taking off his clothes. You whined at the thought, thighs rubbing together to give yourself something while he was away.
You felt his weight dip in the bed, and his hand came up to caress your cheek, “Are you ready, pretty baby?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded, “I’ve been so good. Please…”
He chuckled, sliding the blindfold off of your eyes so that it was around your neck, “Well, I don’t know about that, but your lucky that you're so fucking beautiful. And I just can’t help myself.”
He rolled the condom on as he kissed you softly. When he ran his length through your folds, you sighed at the contact. He kept kissing you as he pushed into you, slowly at first.
You gasped and arched your back, “Oh my god!” He didn’t keep the pace slow for long. You’d spent so long teasing him and playing around with him, that he was insatiably pent up. That didn’t mean he didn’t have the patience to tease you of course, but, by the time he was inside of you, both of you were at your wit’s end.
He gripped the back of your head with one hand and you hip with the other, pressing his forehead to yours as he pounded into you. Over and over and over. 
“Shit, baby,” he murmured against your lips, “You keep getting tighter.”
“Oh, Hwa, I’m so close,” you croaked out, tears running down your cheeks, “Please, please, please let me cum.” Every inch of you felt hot, and your legs shook as your pleasure overtook.”
“Fuck, yeah, pretty girl. Cum around me. Shit–. I’m close to.”
Your eyes rolled back, and your jaw went slack as you came. Legs shaking without any control. You cried out his name with your chest heaving.
He pulled out of you when you finished and ripped off the condom. He groaned as he pumped his dick a few times, cumming all over your dress.
You whined as he admired the damage he’d done to the garment. “Hwa…my dress.” You pouted as he undid the restraints above your head.
“Yeah, you’re not ever wearing this fucking dress ever again.”
✭✭✭✭
note ✭ thank you so so so much to everyone who helped me choose to write this one. i struggled a bit to get it done, but i wanted to get something done before i go home this weekend 😊
if you liked it, please let me know! i absolutely love love love hearing feedback whether it be comments, reblogs, or even just a small message in my dms or inbox. i love hearing from ya'll 💗
anyways thank you for reading! love ya~
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moonit3 · 6 months
Text
THE CUTE GUY WITH GLASSES!
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere stuff, nsfw, m! masturbation, obsession, reader is gender neutral and is referred by you pronouns, first time writing smut, a little too short (sorry).
➥ yandere! nerd x gn! reader
➥ synopsis: simply because you smiled at him, you’ve gain his heart and attention, now he won’t let you go away.
➥ a/n: first time writing for tumblr and also first time writing smut! quite excited with this one and hopes this reach people who enjoy yandere content (^ω^)and of course, beware of the warnings too!
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the emptiness feeling inside his heart is more to question if he truly deserves to live in a world where most people are already with their beloved ones. his parents always spoken of love like it’s a magical moment in everyone’s lives, but why hasn’t he experienced it? is something wrong with him?
that question is going through his brain for the past week, and when he was almost ready to give up and preparing himself to spend the rest of his life alone, a special person entered his life, you. a lovely soul who not only is popular in the campus for both looks and charismatic personality, but the very same one who stolen his breath away just because you smiled at him.
“you are max, right?”
“y-yeah, that’s me!”
and you even know his name! mostly people just call him ‘the glass dude’, but you put extra effort to remind it. seeing how you giggled with his nervousness when he asked if you were willing to go to a nearby cafe with him before classes and when you said yes, his heart almost exploded!
our first date! max thought as he admire you drinking your favorite drink and explaining about the recently subjects you are having. of course, being considerate smart, he offered to tutor you after classes in a couple of days without nothing in return, what a lucky person you are to have someone like him~
once the day arrives, you invite max to your dorm (which you share by yourself since your previous roommate moved out), so it’s just the two of you and he can’t be more happier. with every subject he helps you, he can feel you getting closer and closer to see the details on his notebooks. luckily you can’t notice how his member is getting hard with him feeling your thigh next to his and how easily he can see that you lack a vest/bra underneath your shirt.
his mind can’t help but imagine how gorgeous you must be without any clothes on, maybe a couple of beauty marks all over or scars that tell untold stories? that’s don’t really matter as max knows it only makes you even special, yet he can’t stop thinking of the possibility of spending the night with you.
would you scream until you are completely overstimulated? or whimper with his fingers doing pleasure between your legs? the thoughts of it are plaguing his mind as he left your dorm when the tutoring session is over and once he gets to his place, an apartment that he lives on his own, max couldn’t stop touching himself.
his lewd whimpering are flying across his bedroom and he isn’t even trying to hold it back with both hands going up and down on his cock, trying to pleasure himself with the many fantasies of [name].
“ah~” a sloppy handjob is the only thing that is helping max to keep himself sane as he imagines his beloved being the one touching him, a scene that is easily imaginable. them, sitting next to his body and teasing his leaking member with their hands, almost ready to release his cum into their face. “[name]…i love you so much!”
and with a few more minutes, he was completely done and empty as his cum is all over his stomach, dirty his body and some part of his hoodie. despite his exhaustion and panting, max is willing to go for one last time before going to bed for the night, after all, he wants to fantasize about his beloved one last time for tonight.
“…next time, [name] will be here to help me with this.”
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@moonit3 writings
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