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#there is a lot going on that’s frankly more important than me taking this tucking course
bunnypansy · 5 months
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NSFW Alphabet: Rook Hunt!
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Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!
A short (hm.) script covering the ABCs of Rook's sex life!
Featuring: Rook Hunt, and you!
Beware! This film contains: gender neutral reader, knife play, blood play, sounding, somnophilia, predator/prey dynamics, voyeurism, exhibitionism, nudes, sex tapes, mirror sex, marking, dacryphilia, praise, body worship, masochism, overstimulation, bondage, impact play, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, cucking (yeah), dick piercings, outdoor sex, public sex, stalking, face sitting, nipple play
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
You will NEVER catch a member of Pomefiore lackin when it comes to aftercare. No one is better at pillow talk than Rook Hunt. Too good. Make him stop talking. Seriously, this guy starts talking after you finish and doesn't stop until you fall asleep. Mostly about how well you did, how beautiful you are, certain things you did that he particularly liked. Rook doesn't like baths, so he'll give you a shower instead, but he's still going to pamper you. You won't have to lift a single finger- frankly he won't let you. After a soothing shower that he used as an excuse to worship your body, he'll place you in front of a vanity and tend to you like you're a delicate doll. A hand tucked beneath your knee as he lifts your leg, fingers smoothing over your thigh as he rubs a sweet-scented lotion into your skin, his mutterings becoming muffled through your sleepy haze.
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For Rook to pick a single part of you he loves the most of an impossible task, this boy could go on and on and on about every part of your body down to your fingernails…however…. It's your eyes, definitely. He takes pleasure in seeing every micro expression you make, and your eyes just give it away. Definitely enjoys heavy eye contact during sex.
Rook’s favorite part of himself? Elementary, Watson, it’s his shoulders. Why, you ask? Well for one, his shoulders are very broad and well defined (catch me pushing my dorito-Rook agenda) from all the archery, and they’re still dotted with freckles from all his time in the sun, so he appreciates them aesthetically. However, much more important is the scratches you leave on them; red, raised, sometimes bleeding, nothing pleases him more than the physical evidence of your pleasure on his body.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
So… if you guys know anything about the semen and diet connection, you probably know that a high protein diet results in a very salty and sometimes uh… nasty flavor. We know Rook does a lot of exercise, and protein is a necessary component for building muscle so the first time you swallow for him it's a pretty gross experience. However, with a sustained relationship, Rook will happily change his diet for you so his cum has a bit more of a neutral taste. In terms of texture, he remains well hydrated so it's a bit syrupy and has a nice slightly off-white color. Rook likes cumming both in and on you, so every time you fuck, you are sure to end up with cum dripping from your hole and stuck to your face by the end of the night.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He desperately wants to let a couple other men have their way with you and photograph the whole thing. Rook has always enjoyed watching you masturbate, nearly as much as he enjoys bringing you pleasure, this is simply a natural progression of those desires. Ideally, there'd be If he could truly have his way, he'd film everything, then make you watch it back while he fucks you; the whole time commenting on little things you do that drive him crazy and attempting to recreate what happened in the video. Honestly, Rook is so up front about what he wants that is hardly a secret
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
His experience is middling. I believe Rook has probably had 3-4 relationships, but none of them lasted longer than a year (he was a bit too obsessive and his partners were put off). He's fairly experienced, but also knows that it's important to learn the intricacies of every person he's with, and not everything he knows will work instantly. Rook will approach every session like a learning experience, exploring new places and techniques to make sure he can find all the little spots that drive you crazy- and once he does, God knows he's going to abuse the fuck outta them. Also his first time was in the woods, thanks
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
Before I start, I'm drawing a firm line; Rook Hunt does not like doggy style- or anything where he can't see your face! He firmly believes that any position where he can't see your beauty is a waste of his time. So of course he likes missionary and the mating press, but his real favorites require some extra supplies. Namely a mirror. If Rook is feeling rough, he'll shove you right up against the mirror and take you from behind; but usually he prefers to have you settled on his lap, one arm hooked beneath your leg to lift it up to your shoulder as he fucks you. He likes having the free hand to tease you with (:
Now, I know everybody likes big dom Rook but he's a switch okay guys. The seeing your face rule sticks for even when he bottoms, he needs to see you constantly. Honestly missionary has to take number one for him, but he's also real fond of being tied to the bed, it gives him no choice but to admire you as you work.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Usually if there's laughter in the bedroom, it's just Rook teasing you a bit, but that doesn't mean he's no fun! Having a partner you can laugh with is valuable to Rook, so if something happens while you're fucking it out, he won't be afraid to giggle a little, maybe poke a bit of fun at you, then rather easily slip right back into sexy times.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
He's part of Pomefiore, did you think this man was anything but well-shaved? Frankly, his pubic hair is beautiful, somehow princely?? It's fine and light, but very soft and incredibly well trimmed- not to mention always clean, and never smells like ball sweat. He can't manage to grow a happy trail, just a tiny little path that starts beneath the waistband of his pants and ends in a small tuft at the base of his dick. Otherwise, he's completely shaved down there, smooth balls and not even ass hair.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Painfully so. Rook will be intimate with whomever he chooses to bed, fuck buddies, one night stand or long term lover, it’s just in his nature. He has a knack for making your feel like the most gorgeous, lovable person on the planet while you two have sex- it’s something in the way he holds you, unabashedly keeping his eyes on your face the entire time he presses kisses against your neck between proclamations of your beauty, checking in and focusing wholly on how you feel. Your pleasure is his, afterall. Never, not even once, will you get the impression that Rook isn’t madly in love with you.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
A lot. Once a day, maybe more, if we're all honest with ourselves. Rook is a man who loves indulging his senses- He's got a high libido and he uses his own orgasm as an energy boost, which is enough to make a horny man, but he's also incredibly easy to rile up. He fully indulges the pleasure of masturbation, his favorite places to do so being your bed and outside. Rook really draws out the process; starting with gloves on, letting the leather get slick from his own precum as he slowly strokes up and down the length, squeezing around the tip just for a bit of extra pressure. Eventually, he'll pull the glove off and touch himself a bit more fervently, by now he's getting noisier, letting slip soft calls of your name, whimpering as he rocks his hips into his hand. Rook only whacks it while thinking about or looking at pictures of you, after all, you're the most beautiful thing in the world, what else would he touch himself to?
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):
Voyeurism: I think we could all see this coming. The stalker, a voyeur?! Shocking. He prefers when you don't know he's watching you (he'll receive consent beforehand don't worry boo-boo), something about the thrill of getting caught makes blood rush to his dick. Please let him take photos though
Photography/filming: Master of the nude.Sending you nudes, receiving nudes, whatever it is, Rook likes it. Rook’s nudes are downright artful. The lighting and angles are always perfect, even at night, and he never fails to look beautiful. Rook is the king of the post work-out gym bathroom photo; standing before the mirror with the hem of his shirt between his teeth. He likes to record when he's fucking you too, just so he can watch it throughout his day as a sort of pick me up. He's also fond of some good photos after sex when you're an absolute mess, expect for him to gush over them in your presence
Exhibitionism: this goes well with the voyeurism kink, one of his greatest fantasies would be watching you have sex with another person, then get caught jerking off to you two
Mirror sex: Tenfold if you're self-conscious, he makes your anxiety his pet project. To Rook Hunt, there is nothing sexier than sitting you in lap, legs spread, forced to watch yourself while he fucks you to stupidity. Not to mention, he gets the best view of your body.
Marking: Take a shot every time you read beautiful- but really, he thinks you look beautiful covered in little rose and violet hickies. A painting of his conception, an empty canvas covered in his marks. If you cover them with makeup he'll sneakily wipe it away every time you see each other that day.
Dacryphilia: there's nothing that makes his pride swell more than bringing you to pleasured tears. Of course, Rook isn't the type to enjoy your pain, he'll never want to see you cry because you're scared or hurt, but if it's because you're overwhelmed? Then he's happy to make you cry even harder.
Praise: Again, a guy who cannot stop talking, specifically about you. It's even worse if you're self-conscious; he'll make you sit in front of a mirror, on his lap and guide you through every part of your body and why he loves it, and you. Oh and of course Rook does the standard encouragement. Murmuring sweet things as he slowly pushes into you; "good job, you're taking me so well" or "deep breaths, darling, I'm almost all the way in". And when you're close to cumming; "ah- you're close, aren't you? Go on, cum for me, you can do it"
Body worship: I feel like this one is obvious. He loves everything about you, he finds every inch positively beautiful. If Rook wasn't so hopelessly horny for you, he'd do nothing but kiss every part of your body up and down. But alas. Horny.
Predator/Prey: must I even elaborate? Man is literally a hunter. However, Rook prefers a long con; stalking you throughout the day, appearing here and there, then finally striking when you're all alone. What he really likes is watching you get nervous and fidgety before you finally break and run away from him, so Rook can chase after you. In the end it'll probably end up with you two wrestling and he's absolutely okay with however it turns out- win or lose
Overstimulation: this is on pleasure dom Rook!!! All Rook really wants to do is make you feel good as much as possible, even if that leaves you twitching and crying because you've cum 6 times in a row.
Masochism: PAINSLUT ROOK!!! Rook likes everything you give him, and if what you give him happens to be pain? So be it, lay it on, baby. Nails scratching down his back, biting, hitting- just anything
Bondage: something about being physically tied down makes him feel like a hunted animal, like you two have been fighting back and this is the result of his failure. Rook, the perfect hunter, lines to feel like he's been defeated once in a while, it keeps things fresh!
Impact play: This is for bottom Rook for sure, but please spank him, slap him, whip him. You could slap Rook across the face and he'd get hard. I'm not even kidding. He's particularly fond of riding crops, especially on the inside of his thighs or across his back
Knife play: cut him. Do it. Do it. Do it. Being roughed up makes Rook feel satisfied, bruising, bleeding. And yeah he'd absolutely be okay with branding- if you're in a long term relationship. Cut your name into his thigh, he wants it
Blood play: Rook finds the look of blood against skin striking and gorgeous, he's not inclined to hurt you unless you ask, you can draw blood from him however you like. Hitting him til he gets a bloody nose? Hot. Biting him til he bleeds? Hot. Cutting him up? Hot.
Somnophilia: Rook is nasty okay. His stalker tendencies and love of vulnerability have made a monster, and if you'd let him, Rook would love to sneak in your room and fuck you while you're fast sleep
Guided/mutual masturbation: tell me that Rook wouldn't make you sit on his lap while you jerk off, you can't. Sat in front of a mirror, guiding you through every move so he can watch you write and get his lap all wet. Ahhh he's so cute
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
If you're okay fucking somewhere, so is Rook. If you let him, Rook would fuck you in front of anyone and everyone, this is NOT hyperbole. While the preference isn't strong, I think Rook probably prefers to have sex in public places that anyone could walk into; living room, kitchen, the counter of a public bathroom- of course the woods is a classic. The risk of being caught gives him a thrill that the bedroom just can't do!
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
It's the little things with Rook; how your neck looks when you turn your head, the little way you jump when he sneaks up behind you, how it feels when he can overpower you. Generally, Rook likes seeing you vulnerable, that's part of the reason he enjoys stalking so much.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Genuinely this was so hard to think of, but Rook won't treat you like trash. I know some of us like mean, cruel men, but Rook won't do it, he refuses to mar your beauty or tell lies about his feelings towards you. One of Rook's defining traits is unwavering, brutal honesty, so chances are Rook will never degrade you- he just cares too much. Doesn't mean you can't degrade him though-
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Giving, for sure. He likes seeing the cute faces you make while sucking him off, sure, but he thinks the noises you make while he's tongue fucking you are much better. If Rook is going to give you, head you're going to ride his face though- it's the best position! Sitting on Rook's face means A) he can see all your facial expressions and B) you can quite easily make him do whatever you want, which sounds lovely to him
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Honestly Rook will move at whatever pace you like but let's forget about that for a minute. Rook naturally wants to start out slow and sensual, dragging his cock along your walls, making sure to hit all your sensitive spots with each thrust in and out. As he goes along, Rook gets more excited and his thrusts pick up speed, turning a bit more rough and shallow until he's finally cumming. When Rook cums, he goes still while he's fully inside you, shuddering and moaning as he fills you up. He's got a habit for biting when he cums, like an animal sinking his teeth in to make sure you stay there while he finishes.
Now, I'll elaborate on quick rounds with Rook because they're a bit different. If you need to be fast, or if Rook is so horny he's gone feral, the word "slow" exits his dictionary. His thrusts start and stay hard, fast, and deep, it really gets across the desperation he feels good you, how cute 🫶
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Absolutely! Rook has no problems with a little pick-me-up sex, something to just satisfy your needs and move on. Of course, he prefers to draw out sex, but also takes a good amount of pleasure in tearing as many orgasms from you as fast as he can before sending you on your way, weak-kneed and sweating. I like to think Rook keeps a vibrator on him just got this sort of occasion
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Are you kidding me rn. Rook is the risk man, the only ones fighting him for this position are the tweels, and it's real close. Rook could approach you with something new to try every single week, and if you're the one to ask for experimenting, it's highly unlikely Rook will never say no. Maybe to like… vomit? Any way you slice it, Rook if freaky deaky and pulling you along with it
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
We all know Rook is athletic, baby!! I give it six rounds before Rook gets a bit too overstimulated and needs to give his dick a break before it turns purple, but he's happy to go on pleasuring you while he gets a little rest- but chances are you're exhausted by then too. How long each round lasts really depends on what you're doing, but he can last around 25-35 minutes before- not including any foreplay -so it'll really be up to you to keep up
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
This country boy is mostly an acoustics only partner. It's not that he's against toys, there's just nothing he's particularly interested in using on you. I believe Rook owns a good ol wand vibrator that he uses on you during guided/mutual masturbation, just because he appreciates how squirmy and whiny you get when he presses the toy against your sensitive spots.
But if you're using toys on him oh well… that is a different story. I think he mostly prefers good ol 'weiner up his ass, but Rook is real fond of a good vibrating cock ring and a few bullet vibes- taped to his nipples or the base of his cock. He also likes nipple clamps, ball gags, blind folds, riding crops, and basic whips.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
You'll be shocked but Rook mostly likes to play things fair, he'll tease a little but Rook is straightforward. If Rook wants to fuck you, he'll just come out and ask, no need for any roundabout games! When it comes to actually having sex, Rook wants to make you feel good, he's not going to delay making you cum your brains out!
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Rook Hunt is for sure the noisiest man you’ve ever met. Not that he’s a screamer, moreso, he will not stop talking. We all know he can go on for hours about things he’s passionate about, but he’ll hardly let you get a word in edgewise, he’s too busy going on and on babbling about how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, praising how well you’re doing, murmuring sweet nothings- proud member and president of the “can’t shut the fuck up” club. Of course, you’ll get some good, loud moans from him too (usually interrupting his endless chatter). Rook is more of a moan guy than a grunt guy, it comes out high and is usually accompanied with a shudder and pleased sigh.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Sounding. This is WILD but Rook likes wild, and he would absolutely be 1000% be down for sounding, in fact he's the one who brought it up. He's already done research, he's already bought toys- come babe, keep up, get the rod in his dickhole already!! (Also I think he has piercing nipples, they're just basic golden studs, but they look cute on him)
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Rook is rocking long but kinda skinny. He's around 5.5 inches in flaccid, getting up to an even 7 when he's fully hard- man is a major league grower. As I said, a bit on the skinny side and no prominent veins, but his tip is a lovely cute pink and he gets so twitchy and leaky when he's hard. I'm not sure he has a dick piercing, just because he's a bit worried about the healing interrupting his sex life or exercise, but Rook has thought about getting a piercing or two- guiche or prince Albert I think
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Turning on Rook is like turning on a light switch; you only need one good slap and you could do it with your eyes closed. You could breathe too close to him and Rook would get hard. Rook would fuck you every single day, multiple times a day if you let him. He's not afraid to ask you- or send videos of himself masturbating to the thought of you! Mwah enjoy the teasing babe
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It really depends on whether or not he tops, honestly. In terms of topping? Rook could never sleep after sex, it makes him energized! For this reason, Rook actually prefers not to have sex after dark, morning or midday sex works out better for him. After a good round or two, sometimes Rook will go straight into a workout.
Bottom Rook, though? He still feels refreshed but he's more likely to just settle down for a little while and chill out. He likes to lay back with you and blab on about whatever comes to mind- Rook low-key the king of pillow talk, he could give a 5 page essay debrief on your sex life.
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That's all for today's showing guys, thank you for watching!
Hooooo boy! This one takes the cake for the longest alphabet yet at 3.8k (for reference, Trey's was 2.1k) this alphabet gave me some trouble, I didn't expect Rook to give me this much of a challenge! I think I got in my own head and tried to make this one really professional for a lil, then I went back a read some of my last alphabets and eased up. But there was a lot of writing, re-writing and re-formatting- sorry @birtha I did not mean to take this long, but it's finally done and I hope you like it! Also for that anon who sent in the Barbatos req, I see you, I hear you, I love you, it's in the works. Mwah thanks for reading you guys are baller
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britcision · 1 year
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It’s Wednesday again everybody! And the new chapter is neeeeearly ready to go, but not just yet, so today I have selected a segment I think you will all enjoy!
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Thinking Shit Through Is Not A Halfa Trait
Tim wasn’t in his office when Bruce rode the elevator up. That was… unexpected, but not unwelcome.
The poor boy had left around when Bruce was seriously considering throwing his communicator, and hopefully would be getting some sleep.
Bruce hesitated, glancing out the windows. Sunlight streamed in, the sun already past its zenith.
Had he really been struggling to contact the League for that long?
No, Tim was probably off with Tucker Foley, information gathering. Bruce wouldn’t disturb him; he was barely in a mood for his own quest for information.
Even the Watchtower hadn’t been able to provide any insight into Constantine’s whereabouts. It was frankly infuriating, though he did feel gratified by Clark’s reaction to his news.
Not that Bruce enjoyed upsetting the other man, but… well, it made him feel justified. Like he wasn’t overreacting.
Clark had hardly believed the scale of the problem at first, and Bruce had had to show him the logs. Which is when he learned another charming little detail.
The official Amity Park logs were purged. Tim had delved into deleted files to pull up the hundreds of missed calls, all of which should have remained in the file if they were hoaxes.
Someone had not wanted them to find out what was going on in Amity Park.
Well, when Bruce got his hands on John “Someone” Constantine, they were going to have a very serious talk about proper procedures.
At.
Length.
For now though, he forced the frown to clear and shook his head a few times. It might take him a minute to pull on his full Brucie smile back on, but he’d have time.
He’d need a full shower and change of clothes before he met with Vlad Masters, after all.
Constantine could try and hide the records all he liked, but Masters had been the mayor of Amity Park for years. Including, conveniently enough, the second year that Amity Park had been calling on an almost weekly basis.
One way or another, Bruce was going to get his answers.
**
Jason was… well, not fine, which had been the whole point, but he was doing better by the time they reached the mall.
Riding his bike usually helped, narrowed the world down to a destination and the wind on his face.
Did the mall have anywhere he could get that second helmet? He’d been slacking on that one, though since he now needed a lead lined safe (and probably something more portable), he supposed he could work harder.
Danny clearly didn’t care, clutching his back like a koala and whooping into the wind. But not all of his prospective passengers were potentially immortal.
It wasn’t great learning which bad feelings didn’t belong to the pit, at least not entirely. He’d kind of really, really hoped this would mean he wasn’t always angry anymore.
Shoulda been smarter than that right from the start. He’d been angry as a Robin too, had been scolded by Bruce more than once for “going too far”.
Perhaps the seeds for what he was now had always been in him. Just needed the fertile soil of death to grow.
But it was easier to push those thoughts back without the weight of the pit behind them. With Danny’s arms around him, a warm and reassuring weight that kept him grounded.
Because hey, apparently a lot of things flourished from death, and awful jokes were also among them.
So yeah, he was doing alright when they made it to the mall. Tucker met them at the doors, still wearing a mix of hand me downs from most of the Waynes.
Had Danny thought to have him grab extra clothes? No fucking chance.
Tuck didn’t seem put out by it though, grinning as he waved to the pair of them. He also had the promised Fenton Phones, which turned out to be… earbuds.
Jason frowned down at the bud in his hand, turning it between his fingers. It was chunky, hooked over the ear and had a microphone, but he did have one important question.
“How the fuck do you call someone on that? Hell, you fucking told me it could text,” He asked bluntly, looking from Danny to Tucker.
As an accessory for a regular phone? No problem. But if there were more than three fucking buttons on the thing he’d eat it.
The other two blinked at him for a moment, their expressions oddly identical. Then Tucker laughed and shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, the old versions we only had two or three buds that worked, so you didn’t have to wonder who you were calling. There’s an app now,” he added brightly, holding out his hand for Jason’s phone.
Jason hesitated for barely a second, remembering Danny’s comment about Tucker and technology, then handed over his civilian phone.
He’d already let Danny ectoplasm the damn thing, what’s the worst that could happen. Danny glanced over as Tucker began typing, then looked back to Jason.
“Texting works best with a smart watch. Do you have like a Fitbit or something?” Danny added casually and Jason rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall.
No point asking what Tucker was doing; it wouldn’t involve an app store.
“Do I look like the kind of guy who owns a Fitbit?” He asked rhetorically. Fitbits were for boogie Heights gym rats, not people who worked for a living, claims of durability or not.
Danny and Tucker very clearly did not agree, sharing another extremely pointed look that made Jason wanna ask if Danny had forgotten to mention telepathy, then looking at him with a pair of raised eyebrows.
“Wwwwell,” Tucker started, dragging the word out like he didn’t quite want to call Jason an idiot. Luckily, Danny had no such compunctions.
“You’re six feet tall, have shoulders like a fuckin’ moose, and thighs that could choke out a tank, yes you look like a fucking gym bro,” he said dryly enough to desiccate.
Wait. He’d been looking at Jason’s thighs?
Jason almost glanced down, shifting from foot to foot as he leaned against the wall. He’d put a lot of work into his thighs, and they did a lot of work for him, but he’d never thought about the aesthetic.
Tucker snickered and snapped him back to the moment, which was unfortunately where Danny was looking at him like he was hopelessly adorable.
Jason looked up and away instead, well aware that the heat singing the tips of his ears meant he’d be pinking up.
He was the Red Hood. Most feared anti hero in the country, not just Gotham. He abso-fucking-lutely was not adorable. He just. Couldn’t tell them that yet.
“So, no Fitbit,” Tucker said finally, still very clearly deeply amused (and yeah, Jason could see how he’d hung out with Steph all night), handing Jason’s phone back, “you can just use the phone, it’s just not as convenient.”
Which… well. Maybe before Tucker went home Jason would have to fill him in on a little secret. Get the app in his mask.
It wasn’t like any of them had hated on Hood at the gala, despite having the opportunity? He just…
Didn’t want Danny to look at him the way Bruce did. Like he was a dangerous disappointment. A loose cannon.
He wasn’t quite ready to face that yet.
He could make do with the phone if he had to. Not like he was planning on calling Frostbite while masked up, or like this’d be the last time he ever saw Tucker.
Unless Tim killed the lot of them. Not gonna write that off as a possibility until they’d all arrived.
Glancing down at his phone, Jason quickly identified the new app and snickered, stuffing said phone into a pocket.
“Oui-chat? Really?” Beat the hell out of talking about… whatever the fuck just happened. And Tucker graciously let him have it with only copious smirking.
“Yeah, well, you can tell people it’s like Snapchat. Or whatever you want, honestly. The interface is all in ghostspeak once you open the app, so humans can’t use it,” he explained magnanimously.
Jason hesitated for a moment.
“When do I learn ghostspeak?” He asked cautiously, thinking both of Danny mentioning Tucker’s liminality, and… well, Cass.
Danny, obviously following, shrugged and began heading for the doors.
“You probably won’t notice you’re seeing it? Which, by the way, was great fun before Sam or Tucker could understand it too. It feels like speaking English but with more… emphasis.”
“Danny doesn’t speak it much,” Tucker added in a stage whisper as he and Jason followed, “it’s one of his king-perks.”
Ahead, Danny groaned and scrubbed both hands down his face.
“It’s not a perk if it fucking sucks, Tucker. Where are Cass and Steph again?” He asked firmly, clearly hoping to avoid the next question.
Jason would die again rather than miss the next question.
“What’s the perk?”
“Ghosts have to obey any command he gives them, or it physically hurts them. And it’s not always intentional, so he’s gotta actually think before he speaks,” Tucker added slyly, with the world’s most innocent smile on his face.
“If only it fucking worked on Cujo,” Danny groaned again, picking a direction at random and heading deeper into the mall. They could make the food court and desired milkshakes in a couple turns, so Jason didn’t correct him.
He remembered Cujo’s file too. Ghost dog. Damian would flip his lid when he found out.
—————-
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iamafanofcartoons · 1 year
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Why Qrow being Ruby’s father serves no purpose whatsoever other than to ruin the writing, themes, and elements of RWBY.
Qrow: Listen, Ruby... I'm your dad.
Ruby: Wait like... what?
Yang: He means Dad isn't your father, and I guess that means we're cousins instead of sisters?
Ruby: Wait, really?
Qrow: Yeah, kid... look I-
Ruby: What does this really change?
Qrow: What?
Ruby: Yeah, that's what I'm asking. Do I start calling you 'dad' instead of 'uncle Qrow'? Do I start calling Dad "uncle Tai"?
Yang: Whoa now Rubes, let's not jump to any conclusions. Are we really sure Qrow and Raven are siblings?
Qrow: Wait, what?
Ruby: "Oh no, everything about my life is a lie, I am so distraught!" Like is that what you're expecting?
Qrow: No, I'm not --
Ruby: If nothing needs to change, then I don't care. I'm the daughter of Summer Rose. I know THAT for sure because it's what everyone's been telling me all my life and the photographic evidence is right there. Taiyang raised me as his daughter, you raised me as your niece, Yang raised me as her little sister. Even if none of that is *entirely accurate* I don't care. Brothers, if you told me I was adopted and introduced me to my birth parents then I'd say "cool" and try to learn what they're all about, but I'm not going to change how I feel about the people who raised me, who I've known all my life.
Yang: Maybe I came out of Raven Branwen, but Summer Rose is my mom. She did the job when Raven wouldn't. It doesn't matter WHO I came out of, Summer was the one who raised me.
Ruby: So if you're telling me that part of me came from you, when a bunch of me *holds up Crescent Rose, flourishes red cape* ALREADY came from you, the only thing it tells me is that you slept with my mom.
Yang: And Qrow, let's be honest... that's not too surprising. You all slept with each other.
Qrow: Hey I didn't sleep with Raven!!
Ruby: So unless you can tell me how this changes ANYTHING, Uncle Qrow, I am telling you, I. Do not. Care. I still love you and you'd need to do a LOT worse to convince me to stop.
As much as I love qrow and as much as some fans like to shit on tai for having the NERVE to suffer from depression after summers death, Qrow was a whole mess throughout most of this series for anything that wasn't a fight or mission from oz.
He may have taught ruby how to fight but using his own words, because he believed he was "cursed" I highly doubt he spent THAT much time with her growing up.
Having him be her dad takes him from a somewhat irresponsible but loving uncle to a drunk neglectful father who passed his kid off to his best friend after potentially cheating with said best friends wife and then proceeded to spend the next decade and a half mostly drunk and doing everything under the sun EXCEPT raising his daughter for more than a few weeks at a time.
It also gives him very little moral highground to be talking about raven not being there to raise yang.
In short it ruins his character for very little payoff.
Realistically what would ruby stand to gain by learning qrow was her father, other than more unneeded stress? It's not like he has a magical bloodline as well to give her a power boost.
The very notion that Ruby would change if Qrow was her biological dad is completely against the overall themes of RWBY as a show, and about the messages regarding found families. It's such a basic, melodramatic, and frankly old-fashioned notion that someone's blood parent is Of Great Importance that it feels completely out of step with the characters themselves.
In Conclusion: Nothing would change. Qrow didn't raise Ruby, so he isn't her dad. Ruby & Yang were raised as sisters, that doesn't change no matter what. It's the time they spent together that matter. Blood doesn't matter. Qrow is still a part of the family, but he didn't put in the work to be a father, he has no right to be that. And Ruby already loves Qrow, it's not like they're estranged or unfamiliar, if anything would change maybe what Ruby calls him. But even then, again Tai is Ruby's dad, he read her bedtime stories, tucked her in and changed her diapers. Taiyang is Ruby's dad.
So I will say this once again to the anonymous person who spammed that stupid ask in my inbox...Let this godforsaken theory die and be buried for good.
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necrophili-hack · 2 years
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Could you do a Hange x female! Reader? Fluff please because I'm a minor and there's too much nsfw about them and I can't interact
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Hange Zoe x Female Reader / Fluff
Warnings - None, just fluff
Summary - I haven't been taking good care of myself latley and I feel that's something Hange doesn't keep up on regurally. While dating them you plan to be their reminder and support to give themselves a little bit of love, as we all know they deserve it.
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I apologize for the late reply 😊 I really hope you enjoy and this is what you were looking for 💜💜
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Song for the character - Out In The Dark _ by Alexander Biggs
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Being in a squad lead by a eccentric researcher and scientist it was a suprise for you when you started to have feelings for said person. The bigger suprise ended up being when they reciprocated your feelings.
Hange was not one for self care, there were much more important things on their mind than that and frankly they saw as it as only a waste of time. You currently sat in their office across from Hange themself, head in your hand contemplating how to bring up such a sensitive topic until "Y/N." hits your ears.
Startled you look to your partner whos face is still pointed towards the papers on their desk but eyes are watching you over their eyebrows a small grin on their face. "You seem more lost in thought than usual, usually by now you'd be halfway through your retelling of your day to me." They say as their smile grows sweeter, puts down their pen and mimics your head in your hand stance themself.
Sighing lightly you stand and make your way around Hanges desk, their eyes following your movements. Positioned behind them you gently try to release the tie around their hair keeping it back from their face, letting the hair fall down around their shoulders. It's been tied up for who knows how long so their hair has an indent from that you try to smooth down. As you talk you also gently try to finger comb their knots of hair, trying your best to not cause discomfort.
"I'm just thinking of the best way to speak with you about taking better care of yourself." Hange scoffs. "I think I take care of myself just fine." Hange winces as you accidentally tug too hard on a knot and you pause to lean down and kiss the top of their shoulder in apology. "I think I have to disagree. I care about you Hange. I feel you should care about yourself more too." Leaning down to wrap your arms around their shoulders you tuck your nose into their neck closing your eyes. "You're worth more than you give yourself credit for" you mumble.
Feeling Hange lean their head against yours their right hand comes to hold your own. "I feel too worried spending time on myself, others need me" they say quietly. "You deserve to put yourself first, how will you always be able to help the squad if you don't first care for yourself." Hange let's out a low hum and is quiet for a few seconds. After some time they finally say "I'll think on it." Unwrapping yourself from Hange you put your hands on their shoulders and lean your body around to meet their eyes. "Promise?" A small smile sneaks on their lips as they mumble back "Promise."
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
It's usual for you to go to bed before Hange, being a squad leader takes a lot of time and you understand and you're used to hearing them come into your shared room at late hours of the night. You think of the conversation you had with them earlier that evening and hope you hadn't pushed further than you should have. For the second time that day your thoughts are stopped in their tracks as the door to your room creaks open and you see Hange quietly step through. Sitting up on your forearm your grin is apparent even in the dark to your partner. "What?" they say as they laugh gently. You reach out your hand and wiggle your fingers summoning them over to sit on the bed. You laugh and tug on their sleep shirt they wear so they collapse next to you with a suprised squeak and wrap your arms around them, taking note in the fresh smell they have. "So you did think about it huh?"
You feel a laugh erupt from their chest "Ya ya, I'll do my best you know but only because it's important to you." "It's important to me that it's important to you." They shake their head with a smile "Let's take it one step at a time alright." You hum and inhale their scent again, eucalyptus and tea tree replace the usual scent of earth and sweat. "You smell really nice. And you're comfy."
"I fail to see how me bathing would make me more comfortable but I'll take the compliment." You lean back, head on your pillow but arms still around their neck and faces close, letting your finger tangle around one of their lose strands of hair you shrug. "I'm not sure either but I'm not complaining" you say gently.
"Your hair is so soft after your wash it" you say in awe rubbing the strand you previously had wrapped around your finger. They lean foward pressing their nose against yours, even in the dark you see pure adoration in their eyes. Before you became a couple you were the one they confided in, even closer to them than Levi. You see how they would do anything for you, to keep you safe, warm and happy. You see your best friend, and your partner smile gently and hear "Get used to it love."
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Fic preview
Sneak peek of my WIP OFMD/Bly Manor AU
August 1988 – Revenge, Vermont, USA
He waited until Buttons was out the door and out of their sightline before rounding the counter, deciding that he’d spent far too much time away from him than was entirely acceptable. 
She'll take a tumble on you, roll you like you were dice until you come out blue…
Ed snuck an arm around Stede’s waist, hand slipping just under the hemline of Stede’s shirt, fingers taking root around the soft skin. Nuzzling his face into the crook of Stede’s neck, he took in the ever-familiar scent of orange and vanilla before ghosting a kiss to the underside of Stede’s jaw. 
Stede gave him a sweet little noise in return, the sound traveling straight to space between Ed’s ribs where he kept all of his favorite things tucked away safe. The blonde turned to meet him, pressing their foreheads together as their noses brushed. “Hi you,” he sighed, as if welcoming Ed home. 
And he was, as far as Ed was concerned. Stede was his home, had been for six months, frankly. And everyday that went by without Ed telling him that was the greatest injustice of all, to the most important person he’d ever known. He’d tried waiting as long as he could, afraid that if he moved too quickly he’d scare Stede away, cause all of this to crumble beneath them. 
But God, Stede made loving him easy. 
And as Ed basked in the warmth of Stede’s glow, he knew that he was more sure about this than he’d ever been about anything else before. He was also more sure that he’d combust on the spot if he didn’t tell Stede right fucking now. 
He cleared his throat. “We’ve got a problem, Poppins,” he started, voice low with all the seriousness he could muster in the moment, hoping that Stede couldn’t feel the way his heart was doing it’s fucking best to escape his chest right now.  
Stede started to pull away, shifting to try and look at Ed better. “Oh no,” he sighed, doing his best to keep his voice level behind the growing concern in his eyes. 
Ed held him firm, not letting him separate them fully. “The problem,” he continued, pulling Stede back into his orbit, “is that I’m not sick of you yet. At all.” Stede stared at him a moment, brow furrowed as he processed the words coming from Ed. Ed lifted his thumb to trace over his browline, coaxing them relaxed again before tracing down Stede’s jaw, pulling him closer until 
“And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, lately – ” 
“Well that’s never good,” Stede murmured, the concern in his eyes replaced with something else now.
She's precocious, and she knows just what it takes to make a pro blush… 
Ed pinched him underneath his shirt, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a whine from the other man. “And what I’ve decided,” he scolded, no real bite behind his words, “is that I’m kind of obsessed with you, actually. Don’t think I’m going to be able to get rid of you anytime soon, mate.” 
“Is that so?” Stede was grinning now, those stupidly perfect eyes gazing softly at Ed like he’d hung the moon and all the fucking stars and good God Ed would drown in them forever if Stede let him. 
He hummed in the affirmative, nosing against Stede’s cheek. “I’m actually pretty in love with you, it turns out.” Stede’s breath hitched at the word, chest rising and falling like swells against a ship.
Ed lifted his face to look back at Stede, those glimmering calico eyes boring into his like they were trying to memorize every speck of stardust. “These past few months have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever. And, I think, if you’ll have me, I’d like to try to figure out how to be us, for as long as we can.”
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honeyhotteoks · 2 years
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into the aurora - chapter five (ot8)
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chapter five: you weren't even home to begin with
summary: you spend your first night at home with the boys at the dorms
warnings: none for this chapter. please let me know if I missed any.
pairings: ot8 x reader
genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut
word count: 4.1K
(previous chapter)(next chapter) | AO3 | series masterlist
chapter summary: you sink into a new rhythm at the dorm during dinner
The dorms are a lot nicer than you expected, and far cleaner. They give you a tour excitedly, walking you through the space and pointing out whose room is whose and what the little trinkets or gadgets spread around are for. There are two doors, a main front door and a back door that connects to the private garage, which you find out quickly is the only door really in use to preserve some level of privacy. Both doors lead to a large main foyer which connects to the living room where an oversized gray sectional dominates one side of the wall. It’s sparse, but not decorated poorly at all. There is a lush carpet and clear acrylic coffee table, and to your joy, house plants. Large windows span the living room wall and spill into the kitchen which sits to the left, a bright clean space with a large white kitchen island and red sconce lighting hanging across the middle.
From there to the right there is a long hallway with stairs at the back and the boys note quickly that Yunho and San share a room on the bottom floor as do Wooyoung and Seonghwa and upstairs Hongjoong and Jongho, and Mingi and Yeosang. There are two bathrooms, one on each level, that you are surprised to find spotless, and finally a side room concealed behind two large sliding doors.
“We’ll convert this,” Hongjoong says as he slides open the double doors. There is a long plush couch against the far wall in this private room, and otherwise various items strewn about. A MacBook and headphones open on the side table, an easel tucked to one side, books littered about, and a cup of discarded tea. The room is otherwise fairly large and bright though and would work well as a space just for you.
“Sorry,” Yeosang starts packing up some of the drawing items and Seonghwa springs into action cleaning up the cup and pushing the books to fit tightly against the wall, “We really just use this space for a kind of office or creative space when we’re home.”
“Oh,” you exclaim, “I don’t mean to take it away from you!”
“Oh no,” Yeosang continues, “It’s smart to have your own space, we should have thought about it before.”
“Exactly,” Hongjoong nods, “We’ll have a bed ordered and whatever else you might need. The doors don’t lock, but we’ll respect your privacy of course if the doors are closed,”
You turn and smile warmly, “Thank you,”
“It’s the least we could do,” he replies, “we know you’re taking a big leap of faith here.”
It feels comforting to have it acknowledged, and thus far every comment from the boys has been hinged on your comfort, your consent, and with an understanding that your life fundamentally changes going forwards. In a way, the limb you’re standing out on with these eight men feels safer and more secure than any of your past relationships.
“We’ll let you get settled,” Seonghwa interrupts as the last of your bags and boxes is deposited on the floor of the room, “We’ll bring you some blankets and things that should be fine until we get everything ordered for you.”
“Thank you, thank you all,”
Dinner is waiting, but they leave you to get some space while they set up the table. You can hear them bantering a bit, but it sounds a bit more subdued, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they were a little nervous now that you were here, walking around in their space and making it your own. You look over to your things, a small pile of possessions. Two boxes and three carry-on size suitcases line up on the wall and it’s frankly shocking to you that this is all you found important out of your tiny apartment to keep with you. It amounts to your clothes, some books, a few small knick knacks, your cosmetics, electronics, yoga mat, and a stuffed plushie cat that you typically slept with. It takes you all of ten minutes to unpack the boxes, and you resolve to go through your clothes later, noting that thankfully there was a small corner closet to the room.
When you pull open the sliding door and make your way out into the main space the nerves wash back over you. You weren’t going home, you were home. In the span of a week, you had leased your apartment, moved to a new city, signed up for a new job with no real plan, and started a relationship with eight men. Eight idols. Your head is swimming as you look across the room and watch them setting up dinner and putting out the dishes.
You’re pretty sure a breathy sound escapes you because several of them look up to you. Jongho smiles warmly, “Okay?”
“Yes,” you nod, “I just realized I’m not leaving, I get to stay,”
They smile at you and Hongjoong pulls out a chair at the table for you. At a quick glance you see that there are nine chairs, and it warms you down to your core to think that there were probably only eight chairs here last week and now there is a place for you, built right in.
As you all sit down, Seonghwa is the first to break the slight pause in conversation. “I was thinking we could order you a few things for your room,” he’s seated directly to your left and angles towards you, “a proper bed and some other things. Maybe a desk?”
“A desk, that’s a good idea,” Hongjoong offers.
“That would be great,” you agree, “but I might wait a bit,”
“For what?” Seonghwa’s brows furrows.
You’re mid bite of your food, so you cover your mouth softly and finish chewing before offering, “I should get my first paycheck in a few weeks, and then I can really pick up a few things I’ll need.”
Seonghwa laughs, “You’re not paying for it,”
“Oh,” you lower your hand holding your chopsticks and meet his eyes.
“We didn’t buy the furniture here,” he says, “we can ask for a few things to be brought in, it’s no trouble.”
You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words, before you immediately snap your head to your right, “Hongjoong,”
“Mm?” He replies.
“Who is going to know about me? You have managers in and out of this place I assume, and staff that’s with you frequently?”
The conversation at the other end of the table seems to slow to listen to the response.
“Our direct managers know,” he says, putting his own chopsticks down and taking a sip of water, “they would have to otherwise we would have no way of explaining why you’re here. They’re discreet and understand the situation, the dynamics.”
“Okay,” you nod, “you’ll have to tell me who knows and who doesn’t, I don’t want to make a mistake in front of someone who shouldn’t know.”
He agrees and continues, “As far as anyone else? The staff otherwise can’t know, so we should all,” and he turns to address the rest of the boys, “be careful about being too familiar or informal in front of anyone else or at work.”
There is a murmur of agreement across the table.
“Will anyone in the production office know?” You ask.
“No,” he shakes his head firmly, “definitely not.”
“Who does Eden think I am then?”
“A new friend of mine,” Hongjoong says, “I didn’t tell him how we met, just that I heard your work and thought you were very promising.”
“Ah, so us being friends will explain some of the familiarity then,” you nod, “that’s good.”
“Mm,” Hongjoong nods and gently smooths his thumb over the back of your knuckles, “we’ll be careful. We’ll just have two worlds really, work and here at home.”
You nod and look across them, “Okay,”
“It actually helps that you’ll be working at KQ,” Jongho says from the other end of the table, his face thoughtful, “it won’t be strange that we’re seen with you or spending time with you outside of work, we’ll all just look like friends.”
“Good point,” Wooyoung comments, taking a bite of his dinner before continuing with his mouth half full, “and we don’t get that much attention in Korea, it’s really in the States where it’s worse,”
“They have a different celebrity culture,” Jongho notes, “much less privacy.”
“It’s really just people knowing you live here,” Seonghwa agrees, “otherwise we should be able to live fairly normally, so please don’t worry too much,”
You nod, “That makes sense, I just want to be sure I’m careful.”
San smiles from a few seats away, “We appreciate that,”
“Of course,” you smile back.
“When does work start?” Jongho gently turns the topic of conversation, and you notice how the light tension breaks, everyone feeling comfortable to start digging into their meals again.
“Ah, Monday,”
“Exciting,” Wooyoung comments, “Only a few more days of freedom,” he playfully quirks his eyebrows at you.
“Honestly, I’m looking forward to it,” you sigh, “I was officially getting tired of being a barista,”
“Oh, so you make delicious coffee, hmm?” Mingi teases, “we’ll have to remember that.”
“We have a very fancy espresso machine,” Wooyoung points to the kitchen behind him.
“Ah, I see,” you tease back, “so I’ll be your live in barista. Now I know your ulterior motives,”
Wooyoung is laughing, “Only two of us really know how to work the machine so,”
“Oh, so you need me to help take some of the work, I see,” it feels good to tease them, to lighten up and just be with them. Before now you weren’t completely sure what it would be like, but here you are playfully messing with Wooyoung and Mingi, while the rest of the boys trade shouts and comments.
“Oh!” Wooyoung exclaims, bouncing his hands on the table, “a game!”
“What game?” Yeosang asks him from the side.
“[y/n], guess our café orders,” Wooyoung gives you a wolfish smile, his tongue against his teeth, “I bet you can’t.”
“A bet?” you lean forwards, “please,”
“So confident!” Mingi exclaims, laughing.
“What will you give me if I win?” you narrow your eyes playfully at Wooyoung.
A chorus of “oohs” echo across the table and Seonghwa playfully nudges your arm.
“I’ll buy you coffee for the rest of the month.” Wooyoung says confidently, “but if you lose?”
You consider for a moment and think before saying, “I’ll make your coffee for the rest of the month.”
“Do you know how much coffee he drinks?” Yunho laughs pointing at Wooyoung, “that is a full-time job.”
“So, it’s a real challenge then,”
Wooyoung is delighted, clapping his hands together he leans forwards, “Agreed.”
You decide to go around in a circle, starting with Wooyoung. You playfully straighten up, taking the bet seriously and consider him. The boys around you are sniggering, slapping each other playfully as they watch you, murmuring comments to themselves.
“Iced coffee, iced americano. Black.” You say simply and Wooyoung’s eyes widen. You know you nailed it.
“That was an easy one, I always drink that,” he pouts and leans back in his chair.
“Jongho,” you turn to him, “you seem like…” it takes you a moment, but you finally land on it, “a latte, no sugar.”
The reaction of the other boys is enough to confirm your suspicion but Jongho nods at you as if you were a fierce competitor in battle, “Very good.”
You clap your hands lightly and smile, “Yeosang.”
“Hmm?” He is calm, regarding you carefully and leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.
By the way Wooyoung is giggling like mad, you know that he thinks this one would be the hardest for you, which tips you off immediately to the fact that this wasn’t going to be the normal coffee order.
You throw a smirk to Wooyoung before looking back to Yeosang and saying, “Judging by how pleased he is, you don’t necessarily prefer coffee.”
Yeosang’s expression says it all, and you hear Yunho and San exclaim in excitement. Yeosang leans forward slightly and gestures for you to go on.
“I think you like coffee, but you usually order tea. Matcha?”
Yeosang’s smile is small but offers confirmation, “I don’t know how you got that,”
You shrug, “I’m pretty good at reading people, at least for café orders,”
There’s a chorus of laughs and you hear San say to Seonghwa behind you that Wooyoung was going down. You shift to your right to regard Hongjoong and hum in contemplation.
Hongjoong’s eyes flick over you, his expression playful and teasing and the sharpness of his gaze almost shakes you, but you dust it off before confirming your suspicions, “Iced americano, but you also like iced… lattes I think.”
“You’re too good,” he says and Yunho claps in excitement from the other side of the table.
Wooyoung is sulking now, “This isn’t fair!”
“How is this not fair? You’re just losing,” San hysterically laughs, clapping his hands.
You grin at Wooyoung, “I think these four are the easiest too,” you gesture to the other half of the table, “so you better start getting ready for morning Starbucks runs,”
San stands, letting out a low teasing sound and pointing to Wooyoung.
You turn to your left now to regard Seonghwa. This close his face is even more stunning, but his expression is so soft and kind you can hardly believe that the man in front of you and the man you see on stage hyping up the audience are the same person.
“Hmmm,” you murmur, “I’ve seen you drinking coffee, so I know that you do.”
Seonghwa nods, “True,”
“But,” you shake your head and touch his forearm softly, “I think you also like fruity drinks, sweet things. I think you either order an iced americano or… jeju tangerine green tea.”
Seonghwa’s mouth drops open in frank surprise, “There’s no way,”
Playfully you give him a nudge, “you’re not that difficult to read, oppa.”
The laugher is close to hysteria, and at this point the table is all in on you beating Wooyoung in this bet.
San is up still, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “My turn,”
You look up to him and wave him off, “You don’t drink coffee, you like decaf tea, I noticed that last time. But I think you’re definitely one of those people who just orders flavored steam milk, am I right?” he’s thrilled, and you hear Wooyoung groan.
Giving him a backwards glance, you add, “My order is an iced americano with cream by the way, for when I win.”
“Oh sure,” Wooyoung groans again, “of course.”
You and San exchange a warm smile before you look to Mingi.
“What do you think?” He asks.
“Mocha.” You reply with no hesitation.
He exclaims a wow and shakes his head, “how did you know so fast,”
“I’ve been around you for a total of two days and you’re always snacking on chocolate,” you shrug, “you like sweet things.”
“Insane,” Yunho says next to him.
You shift to Yunho finally and swallow hard when you see his expression. He’s recovered himself from laughing and has leaned forward, elbows on the table, mouth leaning against his clasped hands. He says nothing, but gives you a single eyebrow raise as if to say, try me.
It takes you a moment. There are a million possibilities for him and his varied personality. He shifts between the high energy puppy and the introspective hard-working dancer at lightning speed, but in this moment his sharp and daring expression, charged with a deep flirtatious undertone, strikes a pool of warmth in your stomach. “I think,” you start to say and his eyes light up, “you’re a black coffee guy, black iced americanos too.”
Yunho’s lips break into a smile and for just a moment you think you’ve won.
Wooyoung jumps up first, screaming in excitement and it hits you.
“No,” you shake your head, “not a chance,”
“Wrong,” Yunho shrugs.
The table is going insane, even Jongho and Yeosang joining in on the high energy moment. Wooyoung, ever the gracious winner, points to Yunho and exclaims, “he can’t even look at an americano without sweetener,”
“Wait,” you wave your hands, “you have to tell me what it is,”
“Iced,” he starts, and the table choruses the rest with him, “caramel macchiato.”
You groan and drop your head into your hands, “Of course you and Mingi would be addicted to the sweet stuff,”
“Ah! Don’t throw me in with him!” Yunho exclaims.
“Please,” you shake your head, “clearly my skills aren’t what they used to be,”
“Come on [y/n], I’ll show you where the espresso machine is,” Wooyoung jumps up and waves to you playfully, “you know since you’ll be making my coffee every morning.”
“All right, all right,” you groan, “I concede, but I was close!”
“But not close enough,” Wooyoung is enjoying this, poking fun and pushing your buttons, an easy rhythm to fall into.
The dinner finishes just as chaotically, and by the end of it your face hurts from smiling, it’s been so long since you’ve been able to just relax into something and laugh so hard. It feels like a dream, and after a while you end up staying quiet and watching, seeing the way they trade stories, comments, and jabs at lightning speed. You have your chin resting on your clasped hands, laughing along, when Hongjoong’s hand smooths gently on your thigh and catches your attention.
“Are you doing okay?” he checks in.
“Yeah,” you nod, “really good.”
“Ah, good, you got quiet. I know it can be a lot sometimes,” he says to you quietly.
“No,” you shake your head, “I love it, it just,”
He angles his head a little, “what is it?” Something in his eyes seems nervous, and you wonder if he’s worried you suddenly changed your mind.
“I haven’t felt,” you search for the words and bite your lip, and when you do Hongjoong’s thumb rubs firm smoothing circles against your leg. Looking up to him, you continue, “I haven’t felt at home in a very long time,”
He certainly wasn’t expecting that, and his eyes widen just slightly, “Oh,”
“It’s a little surprising to me too,” you admit.
He smiles and leans in just a bit, “I’m glad you feel that way,”
You are about to respond but gentle hands on your shoulders break your focus, and you look up to see San standing behind your chair, looking down at you. “Hi,” you say, and you feel the warmth in your cheeks.
“I thought I could help you get settled,” he says and squeezes your shoulders. It’s a little bit transparent that what he really wants is a few moments alone with you, but you don’t tease and instead just respond with a nod and thanks.
“I know it’s not that late,” you murmur seeing the time on your phone, “but honestly I’m exhausted,” you say to the table.
“It was a busy day,” Jongho notes, “and you flew in this morning, right?”
“Yes, I was up at 4,”
“Too early,” Mingi offers as he clears his plate and Yunho’s, heading for the kitchen.
You nod and run a hand through your hair, “I spent half the morning being terrified of seeing you all again too, so I think I’m in need of some sleep,”
“Terrified?” Yunho looks up at you.
“No, no, well… I was nervous,” you say, “I didn’t know what to expect and this is pretty much the only spontaneous thing I’ve ever done in my life so, you know,”
“Ah, well I hope you’re not nervous anymore,” he smiles.
Looking across all of them at the table, and seeing San at your side, you shake your head, “No, I’m really not anymore. Today was good,” you pull your sweater a little closer around you and clear your throat, “I haven’t had this much fun in a while, and you’ve all been so kind today. I just want to say thank you,”
“You don’t have to thank us for that,” Yeosang says, “we’re happy you’re here.”
There are a few hums of agreement across the table and you sigh softly before looking to your side at San, “If you can show me where to get some blankets, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he takes a step away and gestures for you to follow. You turn back to the table and bid your goodnights to everyone, and they give you the space to go. You don’t see the way they watch you as you leave.
San heads to a linen closet near the bathroom and pulls down some extra sheets and blankets, grabbing a pillow too before jogging over to your new room and setting them on the edge of the couch.
“Thank you,” you murmur, and he looks at you, hesitant for a moment.
He takes a breath before saying, “I was worried I’d never see you again when you left last week,”
“I know,” you step towards him and reach out.
He accepts your hand and laces his fingers with yours, “I’m happy you’re here to stay,”
“Me too,” you agree, and he takes a step closer to you. You feel his warmth against you at this proximity and your mind buzzes with the memory of the first kiss you shared, something that now feels like a lifetime ago.
“What made you agree?” he asks, his fingers ghosting along your arm.
“Honestly?”
“Mm,” he nods.
“I kept saying I wanted to go home, that at home I could think about Hongjoong’s offer and make a decision, but the minute I got to my apartment I realized that place had never been a home for me. It was just a place. I thought that even if this was a crazy decision it might,” you glance down from his intense gaze and look at your clasped hands, “I thought I might as well try to find a home somewhere else instead of staying there and doing exactly what I was supposed to.”
His warm fingers slide softly up the skin of your neck, coming to rest at your jaw and he tilts your face back up to meet his eyes, “I’m happy you’re not alone there anymore,”
“Me too,” you murmur in agreement.
San looks like he has something else to say, but holds it, and leans in to press a kiss to your lips. You lean up into it, and San unwinds his hand from holding yours to come behind you, wrapping around your waist and bringing you tighter. He kisses deep, with palpable emotion behind every movement, his tongue gently flicking against yours as your mouths part to deepen the kiss. The feeling between you is electric, your skin buzzing and your mind blank to anything but the feeling of his warm hands on your body and his lips against yours.
He breaks the kiss after a moment, leaning his forehead against yours, before pulling away and pressing a parting kiss to your hairline. His hands loosen, and he steps a comfortable distance away, running a hand through his hair and sighing, “I was going to say we should go on a date this Saturday,” he laughs softly, eyes sparkling at you, “but I got distracted.”
“A date?” you fumble out, surprised.
“It would be nice to get to know you better,” he says, “I think all of us want some one-on-one time with you,”
“So, what you’re saying is I’m about to get woo-ed by all eight of you?” you chuckle, nudging him in the ribs.
“Well, you’re already woo-ed by me,” his smile is little devilish, “but yes, essentially.”
“Hmm,” you murmur, “eight times the flowers, eight times the romantic walks on the beach, it sounds pretty perfect to me.”
San leans in and captures your lips again, his hand warm against your cheek, “Good,” he says softly before giving you space again and clearing his throat a bit, “for now I’ll let you get some sleep,”
“Okay,” nothing you could do would get the smile off your face now.
“Goodnight, y/n” he says, stepping out of the room and looking back at you.
“Goodnight,” you reply, and he smiles warmly as he pulls your sliding door shut.
Alone in the room your mind spins, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and nervous excited energy bubbling out of you. As you fix up your makeshift bed for the night, you know for sure that you made the correct choice. Sitting at the table you had never been so sure of something in your life. Settling back in the covers you listen to the sounds of the dorm – the hum of the heater, the comforting murmur of voices just far enough away that you can’t make out the words. You fall asleep fast, sinking into the comforting warmth of your new home, your dreams swimming with thoughts of them all.
taglist: @butterfliesinthesky @stitch3s @flowerboykun @theartofhotchinthesnow @yoongistangerine @inarinabina @justanotherkpopstanlol
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a/n: I know right now we're in the tooth-rotting fluff stage of the fic, but I really want this to be believable. i don't ever think it's realistic when suddenly the y/n character starts hooking up with everyone one of them every which way, so just stick with me in this slow burn. fun times are coming though x
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azenkii · 4 years
Text
A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons
...that i couldn't get out of my head:
(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)
he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.
his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'
he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)
he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,
he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time
when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)
when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them
he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture
he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)
he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap
he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.
he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')
(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)
he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)
the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law
once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee
when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord
the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.
zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar
he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear
he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden
most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)
one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket
zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)
on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it
the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'
zuko: facial what now
he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before
'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'
he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.
(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)
his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)
he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances
during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some
he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).
he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.
the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.
after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.
unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)
he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)
he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere
when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid
on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes
this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks
just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential
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queen-haq · 3 years
Text
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: R for language and smut.
Words: ~2000 words.
Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.
Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9
Part 10
Hot on your trails, Billy followed you to the women’s bathroom. When the bathroom attendant chastised him for barging in there, he shot her an irritated glance. “You want to help her puke?” Billy asked pointedly as you ran to the toilet. The attendant put her hands up in the air and moved back, leaving him to take care of you. He pulled your hair back, holding the strands away from your face while you retched.
You groaned, sounding like you were dying.
“I know. It sucks. Just let it out. You’ll feel better,” he consoled, rubbing your back.
“Didn’t… even…drink… so… much… want… to… die…”
He chuckled.
“I’m sorry… don’t want you to see me like this…”
“I’ve seen worse,” Billy assured. Serving as long as he had with the guys from his unit, puke was nothing new to him. He flushed the toilet using his foot after you’d finally stopped gagging. After he helped you to the sink and you washed your face and hands thoroughly, he patted your face dry with napkins. There were a bunch of supplies on one corner of the table. Spotting the mouthwash, Billy picked up the bottle, handing the attendant a $50 bill, and brought it to you. You rinsed your mouth while he studied your reflection in the mirror. “You okay?”
You nodded your head ‘yes’, almost like a child. You were usually so calm and collected around him that it was strange to see you ruffled like this. Actually, it was adorable.
When he saw you close your eyes, he snaked his hand around your waist in case you lost your balance again.
“I want to go home,” you mumbled, turning around in his arms.
“I’ll take you.”
Your eyes were wet and glassy, filled with sleep. You gazed up at him with the dopiest expression on your face and if you hadn’t just puked, he would have kissed you. He was used to feeling all kinds of emotions when it came to you, lust, anger, frustration and so much more, but this was the first time he felt a pang of tenderness towards you and he didn’t know what to make of it. This wasn’t something he was familiar with at all.
“I have to tell Davina. She’ll worry.”
Smoothing your hair, he tucked in a loose strand behind your ear. “Want to go say bye?”
You nodded your head.
Billy held you in his arms as he led you back upstairs to the club, stopping at one of the bars to grab water for you. He spotted Davina sitting at the booth, talking to some guy, but she stood up immediately when she caught sight of him and you. Billy noted the immediate disapproval on her face. Frankly he didn’t give a fuck about what your friends thought of him but he knew how close you were to Davina. Her opinion mattered to you, and so he had to play nice and learn to get along with her.
Davina stood up and met Billy and you halfway, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
“I think I’m done,” you sighed. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll go with you,” Davina offered. “Let me just grab Kiran from the dance floor-”
“No, you stay. Have fun with your cute guy.”
Billy scowled. Apparently you weren’t so drunk that you didn’t notice other guys. “I’ll take her home,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.
Davina cast him a suspicious glance before shifting his attention back to you. “You don’t have to go with him. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m not going to rape her when she’s asleep if that’s what you’re worried about,” he snapped, trying - and failing - to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“He won’t, he’s not like that,” you assured, shaking your head vigorously.
So you were angry enough to block him but at least you still trusted him. That was something, he supposed. “Can I take her home now? Or are we gonna keep discussing if I’m a rapist?”
You turned to look up at him, your intoxicated eyes pleading with him. “Can we leave?”
Davina grabbed his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you dare touch her when she’s wasted!”
“I won’t. Unless she begs me to,” he smirked, purposely goading your friend. Even though he had no intention of taking advantage of you when you were hammered, he felt no need to justify his motives or actions to another person. Before Davina pissed him off any further, he started leading you out of the club. You were resting your head on his chest while he retrieved your jacket from coat check. When he wrapped the coat around you, you snuggled into the fabric and moved away from him.
It was freezing cold outside and you started shivering. Immediately he pressed you flush against him to keep you warm. As the two of you walked down the street, his eyes fell on the very high heels you were wearing. “You okay to walk on those? My car is a block away.”
“Do you like my shoes?”
He smiled, indulging you. “They’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Like you!”
“Did you just compare me to your shoes?”
“As if,” you snickered, your voice simultaneously naughty and sweet. “My shoes mean a lot more to me than you.”
“Bitch!” he scoffed.
As you giggled in response, his attention was drawn to the low-cut neckline of your outfit beneath your open coat. God, your tits looked absolutely amazing tonight. He was struck by the memory of the time he’d made you come by simply sucking on your nipples, teasing them with his tongue, and you had spent the entire time moaning underneath him. You fucking loved it almost as much as when he ate you out. Billy gave himself a mental shake, telling himself to snap out of it. “How come you never dress like this when we go out?” he asked, hoping for a distraction.
The smile on your face disappeared, you didn’t say anything. You were quiet, too quiet. He didn’t like it when you were all in your head with your thoughts, shutting yourself off to him. The last time you did that, you stormed out of his life and blocked him. Fuck if he was going to let you do that again. Reaching for your hand, he laced his fingers through yours.
“We never went out. All we ever did was have sex.”
He flashed a cocky smile. “Oh, yeah.” He squeezed your hand. “I miss that.”
“What? Sex?” You sniggered. “It can’t have been that long. When was the last time you slept with someone?”
“A week ago, with you.” He felt your body tense at his answer. “And then you told me to fuck off and stopped taking my calls.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Guess it wasn’t as great for you as it was me.”
You didn’t respond, quiet again, and he didn’t feel like pressing the matter in case you got angry.
Finally reaching his car, he opened it remotely. “Y/N, look at me.” You turned to him, staring up at him all doe-eyed again. “You can’t get sick in my car.” He palmed your face, trying to impress upon you the importance of his words. The Wraith was the first thing he’d bought when he finally started earning enough money and it meant the world to him. Next to Anvil, it was his most treasured possession. “Okay?”
You glanced at the car, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I should call an Uber.”
“No, I’m taking you home. You just can’t puke in my car.”
You turned back to him, frowning. “But I might and I don’t want to ruin it.” You pulled out your phone. “I’ll just call-”
He snatched the phone away from you, sliding it stealthily inside his jacket pocket. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. I can get it cleaned.” He walked to the passenger side and held the door open for you. Seeing how hesitant and worried you appeared, Billy regretted broaching the subject in the first place. “Hey,” he stroked your right cheek. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He noticed you swaying on your feet without his support and he moved to help you get in the car, covering the top of your head so you didn’t hit it against the roof.
A few minutes later he’d maneuvered the car out of the parking space and was on his way to your place.
Casting you a side-long glance, he noticed you had removed your jacket, which now lay bunched around your waist, and your head was leaned back against the passenger seat. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren’t asleep.
“You keep staring at me,” you finally spoke, turning slightly to look at him.
Billy’s eyes trailed down to your breasts again and he felt that familiar ache in his cock. “Maybe I miss you.”
Your mouth parted slightly, like you were contemplating what to say next. “Liar.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I am lying. I don’t miss your voice, your body, your smell, your laugh.” Maintaining a steady tone, he stared straight ahead. “I don’t miss the taste of your sweet cunt, or the filthy moans out of your mouth when I’m sucking your clit. I don’t miss how good you feel when I’m inside you and you’re begging me to fuck you harder.” Coming to a stop at a red light, he shifted his attention to you. Your breathing was shallow, your piercing gaze locked with his. “I don’t miss how you always razz me, how snarky you are, how you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking. I hate when you come into a room and put on your charming act, everyone just gravitates towards you like you’re a fucking ray of sunshine or something. I hate how fucking brilliant you are, how smart. Your mind doesn’t fascinate me at all, and I don’t spend any of my fucking time thinking about what’s going on in that brain of yours.”
Billy noticed how you swallowed thickly, how you were squeezing your thighs together. Your skin was flushed, your breaths coming out in shallow spurts.
“I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t miss you,” he murmured, his voice rasp with lust.
His words had the desired effect. You couldn’t take it anymore. Desperate to get off, your hand slipped between your thighs and you started rubbing yourself.
“Take off your fucking pants,” he growled. “I want to see your pussy. Want to see how wet you are.”
“Can’t… one-piece…”
As frustrated as he was at not being able to do what he wanted, he was still mesmerized by what you were doing to yourself. Your quiet moans had grown louder, more desperate. It was heaven watching you come undone. It was also sheer hell because he couldn’t fuck you himself.
As if reading his mind, you shifted closer, your body facing him. His eyes drifted down to your breasts again, barely covered, and he reached out to touch them. His fingers delved beneath the fabric of your top to tweak your nipples, playing with them, caressing them, until they were hardened nubs, ready to be sucked and licked by him. His mouth watered at the sight of your puckered nipples. God, he was so fucking hard.
Then you took his hand and guided it down to your cunt, urging him to play with you. He felt how wet you were through your clothes, you were so fucking turned on. He rubbed your pussy expertly, tapping and teasing your clit, and the guttural moans that were coming from your mouth only aroused him more. With you, even dry humping was hot.
It only took a few more seconds for you to come, and when you did you were all soft murmurs and tender sighs and it took everything he had not to pull you onto his lap and fuck you right then and there.
His hand crept up to your breast, resting over your heart as you slowly returned to the world. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, they were brimming with emotions. “Thank you.”
He smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“I owe you a blow job.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “Suck me off because you want to, not because you think you owe me.”
The innocence displayed in your smile completely belied your wicked words. “I like sucking you off.”
His hand reached out to play with your hair. “Good.” He winked at you. “Feel free to start any second now.”
“I’m not blowing you when you’re driving! I want to get home alive.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, pouting.
You simply smirked in response.
Soon, a comfortable quiet fell over the two of you which was an unusual experience for Billy. Years of working recon meant waiting, watching, studying the enemy, the atmosphere charged and tense before chaos struck and the inevitable happened. But this was different. The tension was sexual, the dread non-existent. There was just him and you, and it was perfect.
Your phone buzzed in the inside pocket of his jacket, which made him wonder if the loser you’d been talking to was now calling you. Fucker really had no game if he was calling you so quickly. Eager prick.
“Did you mean it?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“What you said in the club. About killing the guy who was hitting on me.”
Apparently you could read his thoughts now. “Every fucking word.”
You sat up, your eyes fiery and volatile. “You have no right to interfere in my life, Billy.”
“I have every right.”
“How would you feel if I started harassing you about the women you sleep with? What if I went all psycho on them?”
He turned into the parking lot of your building and parked his car at a visitor’s spot. After unbuckling his belt, he turned to you, fisting the back of your head. Your breath hitched in your throat, like you weren’t prepared for his close proximity. “Ask me, Y/N. Ask me how many women I’m fucking.” He waited for you to speak, to ask the question, but, instinctively, he knew you wouldn’t. “You’re not going to ask me, because the truth scares you.”
“Of course it scares me!” you snapped. “I have no idea if you’re using condoms with these other women, if you’re exposing me to god knows what.”
Your defensive tone meant he was getting close to the truth. His fingers started playing with your right ear. “If I’m only fucking you, and I only want you, then you can’t use me as an excuse to run from us anymore. Terrifying, isn’t it?”
Fear flashed across your face, all your emotions on display for him to read.
Billy leaned back and winked at you, smiling smugly. Jackpot.
Part 11
A/N - Thank you so much for your continued support! I hope you guys are still reading and enjoying the fic. As always, thank you for the likes, reblogs, the comments that I cherish so much and your asks/messages. If you’d like to be add/removed from the tag list, please drop me a note.
Tag List:
@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine  @gubleryum @galaxyjane  @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless  @tanyaherondale  @nashibirne  @dour-trash  @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson  @agent-jbarnes  @primadonnasdream  @aleksanderwh0r3  @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729  @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie   @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase  @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx   @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival  @sassygirl25  @consulting--heroes  @the-celestial-kitsune  @mackaywhore  @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny   @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle  @fire-treasure-iii  @charly-0  @kestrafagnor  @pigwidgeonxo  @damagelove  @allegra-writes @pensandthings  @jad3djay  @batshitbarnes  @kashimayuki  @secretsthathauntus @odetostep  @awesome-eccia    @mackaywhore  @stories-you-wont-hear  @vvsdiamond28 @supernaturalcat7 @arieltwvdtohamflash   @iknownoqueenbutthequeeninme  @devs-stufff  @ticosas  @moodacheeks @myakai13  @carlywhomever  @fvckthisbxtchup  @its-evita-here @papapapadumb  @talesfrommycell  @bat-luna-cat    @fific7   @elluvians @dailydoseofchoices  @everythinghappens-love  @papapapadumb  @mylife-love-and-other-things  @bigcreatorwombatdreamer  @ancientbeing10  @natty2245  @stuckysavedmylive  @kasslucilfer  @simp-for-ben-barners   @originaldeputycalzoneegg  @bdffkierenwalker  @kimoranelson03  @sadbi-hours
Gif Credit: @bilyrusso
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juletheghoul · 3 years
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Hey sweetie, hope you're doing well. Better than me I hope, in this Texas heat!!!😥🤤 When your muse permits, may I please have some more Dave York? I am a shameless slut for that suburban murder Dilf!!!
Hello lovely!
Okay - so I've written more for the soft!Dave fic I gave a preview for in this post and here and this picks up where that left off.
Pairing: Dave York x f!reader (soft!dave)
Smut under the cut (18+ NO MINORS semi-public touching, p in v sex, oral-female receiving) (word count 2.6k)
All in all it had gone better than he thought. He enjoyed your company - he found you attractive and you liked him. That was all he needed. The fact that you made him laugh had been a bonus. You were his new mission and it wouldn’t have mattered what you were like in all honesty but this was good. This he could work with.
He hadn’t meant to kiss you like that, he planned to take it a little slower, just a little peck to show you he was interested. He definitely didn’t expect you to open up for him like that, and he definitely didn’t expect to enjoy it so much. Another bonus.
He didn’t want to scare you away by reaching out too quickly, figuring a couple of days should be time enough. He wanted to make sure this worked out. He expected the same game of cat and mouse men and women have been playing with each other forever. He had waited to message you - which meant he would probably hear from you in a few hours.
-Hi - It’s Dave from the other night, wondering if you wanted to grab dinner on Friday?
He was doing some reconnaissance for an upcoming job and he wanted to read through his reports; he wasn’t expecting you to respond so quickly. Frankly, it was refreshing.
-Hey! Yes I’d love to, really happy to hear from you =)
He smiled despite himself, he didn’t expect you to be so open and honest.
-I’m glad to hear, I had a great time
He could see you typing your response before he put his phone down so he waited.
-Me too, thought maybe I’d scared you away - usually don’t make out on the first date
-Me either - glad we did though, you definitely did not scare me away. Just at work right now. Maybe we could talk more later?
-Sure! Hope you have a great day =)
-You too!
----
He kept up the communication with you when he got home, answering your messages as he cooked himself a small dinner. He asked you all the questions people usually ask when getting to know someone, he flirted the best he could. He was doing everything in his power to make sure you were interested, without being vulgar. He briefly considered whether this was manipulation, presenting himself in a way he knew you’d respond to in order to secure a relationship. In a sense everyone did this, the difference was they liked the people they were chasing.
He didn't not like you, he just didn’t really like anyone. It all came from his training and subsequently, his job. He learned long ago to not hold onto anyone too close, it hurt more when you lost them.
This was good though, he was content.
----
You couldn’t lie to yourself about how excited you were when Friday came around. He was consistent which was really important to you, he kept up with the messages and asked you actual questions and he seemed interested. It had been so long since you’d dated someone, since you felt excited about someone and seeing his messages gave you butterflies.
You had to stop yourself from running to the door when he knocked; you did your absolute best to reign in your heartbeat as you opened the door.
“Hi - hope I’m not too early.” He smiled - giving you a not so subtle onceover which made you momentarily self-conscious of your outfit choice; he must have taken notice of your expression.
“You look beautiful, are you ready to go?”
“Thank you - you look really handsome - Yes I’m ready.” You smiled as you grabbed your purse and locked your door.
You didn’t think this date could have gone better than the first but it did. He was charming, he was sweet and most importantly he made you laugh. His sense of humour was a lot like yours, dry and witty although you knew you could be a bit goofier than him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too high but you really liked his company and although it was still early, you could see this getting more serious.
When he walked you to your front door you didn’t play coy.
“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I really want you to kiss me.” You moved closer - peering up at him through your lashes, hoping that you looked sexy.
“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.” He was smirking at you and you felt yourself flush. His hand almost engulfed your face as he pulled you in closer.
The kiss was searing; his tongue licked the seam of your mouth - asking for permission which you gladly gave. He deepened it further, pressing you up against your front door- his hands moving from your face to your waist. He slanted his mouth to get deeper, to make you ache. Your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him closely while you pressed your body as close to him as you could. It went on longer than it had any right to.
When he pulled away you were both panting.
“I had a really great time, goodnight.” He kissed you softer then and waited for you to make your way inside. Any longer and you would have pulled him into the house with you by his belt. You were happy he made the decision for you.
----
You had a few more dates and they were going better than you had imagined. He had come over for dinner one night, which ended in a very heavy makeout session on your couch before he went home. He was being really respectful which you appreciated, you really liked him and in the back of your mind you were nervous that he’d lose interest as soon as you gave it up. It was frustrating, because you were reaching your limit.
----
You walked through the parking lot with him hand in hand, on your way into the theatre. He had let you pick the movie - horror of course - and you were excited to cuddle up with him. You had a plan tonight and it sent a hot spike of arousal through your belly.
He didn’t let you pay for anything usually but you insisted he at least let you pay for the snacks, it didn’t seem like he would let you but you gave him a pout and he relented. Smiling good naturedly and grumbling about not making that pout a habit.
You lifted the seat divider as soon as you picked out your seats, making your intentions of getting close quite clear. He seemed to have the same idea; bringing his arm around you and firmly tucking you into his side.
He smells so good you thought to yourself as you leaned into the crook of his neck, barely paying attention to the trailers. His palm rubbed at your arm through the soft material of your sundress as the movie started, the both of you getting lost in it briefly. When it got too gruesome or scary you tucked your face into his neck, bringing your hands up to block out the screen.
You felt him chuckle then, his low velvety voice whispering in your ear.
“We can leave if you don’t want to watch this.” He said it without judgement, caring only for your comfort even though this could have been an excuse for him to have you close. It hardened your resolve.
“No, I want to stay, but I think I'd like it better if you distracted me.” You gave him a mischievous smile, hoping he’d take the hint. Thankfully - he did.
He tipped your chin up and kissed you softly at first, but deeper as time went on. This was going to work, you could feel his desire for you in it. You were afraid he’d be scandalized at what you wanted him to do but you couldn’t wait anymore. You tentatively reached for the arm around your shoulder and brought down to grab your breast. He pulled away suddenly and it made you nervous - maybe he wasn’t into this.
“Here?” He wasn’t scandalized, he was wearing a smirk - seemingly enjoying the thought of it, feeling you up in the movie theatre like a teenager.
“Do you want to? It’s okay if you don’t.” he could see your self-doubt written across your face.
“Only if you promise to be quiet for me.” He whispered it into your ear and you almost let out a moan. He kissed you again and this time you felt his hand dip into the breezy neckline of your dress, surprising you even further by reaching into your bra. He held you close, moving his kisses to your jaw, your pulse point - rolling your nipple between his fingers by the time he reached your ear.
You were breathing a little heavy as he pulled at it slightly, anyone could have looked over and seen the two of you but it didn’t matter - not when it felt so good.
“Is this what you wanted? Does it feel good, baby?” He spoke in a low voice as he bit your ear and you could feel the arousal leaking out of you. He pinched at the other through the fabric as he kissed you again and it was too much, you grabbed at his thigh, breathing out a god yes as he continued his ministrations.
“I wish I could lick them right now, bite them a little bit, would you let me?” He was pulling at the collar of your dress slightly, enough for him to see into your dress a little.
“Right now? What if someone sees?” You were asking even though the thought of his mouth on your tits in the middle of a movie theatre almost made you cum in itself.
“I would be really careful, just a little lick.” He kissed your neck as he spoke and you realized then that you would have let him do whatever he wanted.
“Okay - fast though.” You laughed conspiratorially - you felt reckless and wild, and excited to have him touch you this way. He pulled you close to him, turning in his seat slightly and quickly pulled your dress down along with the cup of your bra. Seeing your breast out while there were -admittedly- very few people in the movie theatre caused your heart to race. He kept his word though, quickly lowering his head to lick your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue around it had you biting your lip to keep your mouth shut. He couldn’t just have one though, pulling down the other cup to lavish the other one with the same attention and then quickly adjusting it so you were decent again.
You didn’t think you could make it through this movie with how your body was responding to him. Your panties were sticking to your body, your slick running freely and his words only served to amp up the arousal.
“Look what you did to me.” He brought your hand to the sizeable bulge in his jeans. You gasped slightly at the size, and suddenly you didn’t want to be in the theatre any more.
“Take me home David, now.” Your tone was iron and he didn’t argue; hastily pulling you up out of your seat in his haste to obey. The grip he had on your waist as he walked through the theatre and through the parking lot made you laugh with nervous excitement. You saw that he had an intensity about him that had you clenching painfully around nothing.
When you arrived at your place you practically ran inside; you had barely managed to close your door when he picked you up. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tightly as he held onto your ass. He walked you towards your room, pausing briefly to push you up against the wall in the hallway, halfway up the stairs, your bedroom door. Finally dropping you onto your bed.
He fell onto you and ground his hips against the soft fabric at your core. He was so thick, the pressure of him grinding into you was just right and you pulled at his shirt - wanting to feel his skin against you and when he took over you sat up to pull your dress off. He had your bra off faster than you thought possible.
“So pretty.” He dove in, sucking and biting at your nipples - drawing out whimpers and moans as you held his head close to your chest. You could see his saliva glistening on the soft skin of your tits when he alternated from one to the other and you couldn’t hold off any more.
“Please fuck me.” You pulled his face up from your chest to breathe the words into his mouth, the coil in your belly was already wound tight and he hadn’t even gone near your pussy yet.
“I didn’t bring a condom.” He looked a bit sheepish now, hoping against hope you’d have one.
“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean - but we can do other things if you aren’t comfortable.” You stroked his face softly, trying to convey that you wanted him either way. He hastily got up and took the rest of his clothes off while you shimmied out of your underwear. His cock bobbed out when he finally shed his layers, the tip of it weeping slightly - making your mouth water. He was bigger than your last sexual partner and though intimidated slightly, you were excited.
He crawled towards you as you watched him, settling his face between your thighs.
“You liked it when I licked your nipples baby? Look how wet and glossy you are.” He licked a strip from your fluttering entrance to your clit; he parted you with his tongue and focused on your clit, letting his saliva drip down to make you wetter. The steady glide of his tongue drove you into a frenzy. You barely registered your hands grabbing his hair, using him to grind yourself against his tongue. You were not going to last, you could feel yourself careening over the edge. The wave of it quickly racing up to crash over you. When he slowly slid two thick fingers into your cunt and curled them just so, the wave crested. Your body seizing up with the force of your climax.
“You taste so good baby.” He kissed your mound, the dip in your hip; he slowly made his way up the soft skin of your belly, pausing to give each nipple a quick lick before he settled between your legs. You felt the heavy weight of him sliding through your folds, the blunt tip of him nudging at your clit making you wince with overstimulation before he gradually fed himself into you.
He wrapped your legs high on his waist and rocked into you at a steady pace, you could see from his ragged breathing he was trying not to jack hammer into your wet heat, he was trying to make himself last.
The stretch of him was delicious, you felt full and his cock was hitting something that made you fall silent; made your eyes clench shut against his neck. You could tell he was getting close when he crushed you underneath him, resting almost all of his weight on top of you while he snapped his hips forward harder and harder. The sound of your joining a wet slap as he moaned in your ear - whispering about how good your pussy felt, how tight and wet it was, how he was going to cum- but not before he felt you cum first. He reached between you to rub little circles onto your clit, begging you to cum around him.
You obeyed, and he didn’t hold out much longer.
------------
Tagging a few people I think might enjoy:
@foli-vora @ezrasbirdie @quica-quica-quica @beskarboobs @wheresarizona @absurdthirst
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“Lucifer’s Scenting” Obey Me Smut #3
Lucifer x Fem! MC
Beginning with Levi x Fem! MC
Introduction: After both Mammon and Levi scent on MC, Lucifer fully plans on going through with his promise of claiming her as his own, but not without a little punishment for not waiting for him to be her first scenter. Lucifer is a sadist after all and he isn’t going to go easy on his human but neither would she.
Warnings: breeding, bondage, spanking, scenting, rough vaginal sex, master kink (despite popular belief, Lucifer will be calling MC master), at first VERY submissive but then VERY dominant Lucifer, pact usage, degradation, blindfolding, pegging, praising, overall SPICY DEMON TIME, tell me if I missed anything. Who said Luci couldn’t be both a total subby sub and dommy dom?
Forewarning: this is LONG like I was actually CONCERNED because about 85% of it is pure SMUT, so be warned and take my apology ☁️
Both Levi and MC had passed out after their excursions much to the other brothers’ chagrin. While the brothers were pissy, they eventually shuffled back to their rooms when it became evident the both of them weren’t coming out to greet the angry mob. Levi had woken up first and, despite reverting back to his embarrassed nature, took it upon himself to wipe down MC’s body with a towel as she slept. She woke up to the feeling of soft caresses on her face and opened her eyes to see Levi’s orange ones staring at her with a utter adoration in them, but he was quick to blush and try to pull away which she didn’t allow. Hooking her arms behind his neck, she pulled him down so their lips met briefly for a gentle good morning kiss before pulling away just enough so their noses were still touching.
Levi’s cheeks were dusted pink as he soaked in the view of her, leaning towards her as if it was instinct as he encaptured her lips with his yet again for a passionate make out session to say what he couldn’t with words. They both pulled away, breathing heavily, as MC pushed aside the demon’s messy bangs that were slightly curled and stuck to his forehead due to sweat.
“I think we should both take a shower,” MC giggled, the first words spoken between them after yesterday having a humorous tone. Levi blushed and nodded, looking down at their entangled bodies as he pulled away his hand he didn’t even know was rested on her bare waist. They both eventually stood up, but staggered against one another after realizing how shaky their legs were which made MC giggle more.
“I-it seems you, uh, p-plowed me more than I t-thought,” Levi stuttered out, his face red from the neck-up as they held each other for support. MC nodded with a smile before pulling away when they were both steadied. “I-I’ll meet you down for breakfast, alright?” He stated, boldly kissing her once more before scurrying off, butt-naked by the way which was only emphasized when she heard a mixed screech that sounded suspiciously like both Mammon and Levi.
MC took her time freshening up in the bathroom, making sure she was squeaky clean after her activities with both Mammon and Levi. When the hot water from the shower head hit her, she let out a sigh of relief as it relaxed her muscles and soothed her sore body. One thought pressed at her mind, both anticipation and worry tagging along with it. How was she supposed to keep up with getting claimed by all the brothers back to back? She had already dealt with two brothers and it left her aching just imagining five more caused a shiver to run down her spine.
Sighing, she went down the steps and towards the dining room while drying her hair with a towel, promptly plopping into her usual seat as all eyes were on her. Scanning her eyes across each of them, it seemed they were all holding their breaths. Choosing to ignore them, she grabbed her fork and stabbed the pancakes Satan had made that morning, bringing it to her mouth. Slowly, she bit into it and it was right at that moment that all Hell broke loose.
“MCCCC! I wanna be next! Please? Pretty please? I’ll obviously be the best out of all my brothers!” Asmo whined, a pout setting on his face as he clasped his hands together.
“Oi! Who are ya to think you’re the best outta us?” Mammon spoke up, pointing a fork towards his younger brother’s direction. “If it’s gonna be anyone it’s me!” He continued before angrily stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth.
“Puh-lease. I’m the avatar of lust, sweety, I don’t think I know,” Asmo scoffed, waving his hand to brush Mammon off.
Before the avatar of greed could retaliate, Satan interjected. “I would hope that you’d choose me as your next suitor as I’d be the best choice amongst my barbarian brothers,” he stated before taking a small sip of his drink. “Besides, you reek of Mammon and Levi’s scenting, I quite frankly believe mine would suit you better,” he ended, a smug smirk on his face.
“Oh, get you’re head out your ass, Satan,” Belphie retaliated, picking his head up from the pillow he clutched to his chest as he looked at the avatar of wrath with a groggy but daggered glare nonetheless. “It should be either Beel or myself next, the rest of you guys don’t deserve her time,” he scoffed before pressing his face back into his pillow. Beel hummed in agreement, too busy eating to put in a comment.
“Look who’s talking! At least I didn’t kill-“ Satan began, his wrath beginning to show as he angrily stood up. Belphie was quick to react to his words as he rose from his seat as well, a dark look in his eye.
“Enough.” MC found herself saying. She had said it at a normal volume but the single word seemed to hang in the air long than usual as all the brothers froze at her words. “Sit down.” She commanded, her eyes shadowed as Satan and Belphie were quick to comply. The pact marks on the three of them glowing to show its effect. Finally picking up her head, she met the eyes of each of the brothers one by one as they all shivered at the look their human was giving them. “If I need to remind you, I’m human and humans get tired especially if they’re getting fucked by demons nonstop,” she berated them, some of them surprised at her vulgar way of putting it. “If any of you are going to ‘scent’ me it’s on my own terms or I’ll reject all of you,” she concluded, a fiery look in her eye as she looked at the each of them for any disagreement. All the brothers shivered at the sound of “reject” coming from her lips, an unpleasant taste settling in their mouths. Rejection for demons is much more serious than it is for humans, if a demon is to choose someone as their mate and start courting them but get rejected it will be as if a part of them is being ripped away from them causing immense pain and eventual emptiness which is why choosing your prime mate as a demon is very special, an intimate tether that ties the two together, it being especially important for the seven of them with her as they had a pact along with it.
Silence settled over the room as fear pitted in each of the brothers’ stomachs at her warning, Lucifer being the first to speak. “My brothers surely apologize for letting the fact that you’re a human slip their minds, isn’t that correct?” He questioned. The six of them nodded quickly in reply. “Things will continue on your own terms now, dear. I’ll even arrange for your classes to be online for now so you can rest and prepare,” he soothed.
“Why?” She found herself questioning aloud causing the corner of Lucifer’s lip to lift.
“Why I wouldn’t want any misunderstandings of our relationship with you to the rest of RAD seeing that only Mammon and Levi have scented on you thus far. While it may be enough to deter certain demons with certain motives, I’d hate for them to believe that it is only the two of them that have claimed you when it is really all of us,” he explained, a certain glint to his eye that caused MC’s cheeks to start heating up. “Oh, and while your use of rather vulgar language earlier to explain our linking was entertaining, I’d just like to inform you that what we’ve decided to partake in with you is much more...intimate,”
And, with that, MC was like putty in their hands.
-
A week had past since she had told off the brothers and everything had returned back to normal, other than the brothers always having a bit of anticipation lurking in their minds waiting for her to tell them it was their turn while she busied herself with online school work. Both Mammon and Levi made sure to rub their necks against hers in order to consistently scent her everyday, which she allowed as they basked in her attention especially happy if their younger brothers happened to be present as they did so.
It was particularly late one night when she finally finished up all her schoolwork and tasks, beginning to get ready for bed as she snuggled up into her sheets. Her shut-eye was short-lived when a muffled knock sounded from her door before Lucifer’s deep voice tickled her ears from behind it.
“MC? I’m coming in. Are you decent?” He questioned, causing her to quickly sit up.
“Yeah, I’m good!” She called out, Lucifer being quick to enter her room after her reply.
“I’m merely here to check on how you’re adjusting to temporary online school,” he informed, taking a seat beside her on the edge of her bed. He took it upon himself to gently smooth her ruffled hair as she thought of an answer.
“It’s going fine. A lot of work, but I’m getting used to it. Not to mention I get to spend more time here so I enjoy it nonetheless,” she grinned, leaning into his hand subconsciously.
“That’s good,” he chuckled warmly, tucking a strand behind her ear. “I trust my brothers have been giving you the rest you deserve?” He continued, eyebrow raising as he awaited any disagreement so he knew who to punish.
“They’ve been behaved. I can still feel that they’re a bit restless about waiting, but they’ve been perfectly patient,” she nodded with a giggle, both of them not noticing the closing distance between them.
“I’m glad,” Lucifer whispered, at this point the both of them were face to face, noses barely touching as they gazed at each other. He awaited for her to take the initiative, which she noted when she closed the distance between them and locked their lips together. The kiss didn’t involve tongue, but it was passionate and warm nonetheless, too enraptured with the feeling of each other to deepen it further. It seemed to last forever yet also too short, as they both pressed their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily. “Could I take you to my room?” he breathed out, meeting eyes with her. She slowly nodded and lightly laughed when Lucifer picked her up bridal style.
As he carried her to his room, taking long strides, a thought came to her mind which made her let out another laugh. “You know...in the human world when a person carries another to their room like this with the same intent we have they usually just got married,” she commented, watching his reaction. A smile lifted Lucifer’s lips as he looked down at her.
“One day. Sooner if you want, love. The sooner I get to claim you, whether it be through demon, angel, or human ways, the better.” He replied, setting her down on his bed as her face heated up at his reply. Noting her embarrassment, he pressed his lips against hers, hovering over her as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Pulling away, he began peppering kisses down her jaw to her neck and ending at her collarbone before meeting eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked softly as he scanned all her features for any indication of doubt.
“Yes...I’m sure,” she breathed out followed by a yelp when Lucifer quickly held onto her waist and flipped them so now she was on top of him. He looked up at her with a lopsided grin, eyes strangely playful.
“Then, like you said before, it’ll be on your own terms,” Lucifer stated, hands on both sides of her waist while his thumb slowly hiked up her camisole. “Please have your way with me...master,” he sighed out causing a bolt of pleasure to run through MC’s spine.
She was quick to react at his request, unbuttoning his shirt as record speed as she dipped down to his chest to suckle and nip at his skin. Trailing downward towards his pelvis, she pressed a gentle kiss at where his v-line began before looking up. Meeting eyes with Lucifer, she was surprised to see such a vulnerable gaze on the eldest brother’s face, his cheeks blushed from anticipation. Running at the mound in his pants, she was surprised to feel how rock-hard he was as he let out a choked groan. He was trying to hold back his voice. Oh, she couldn’t let that happen. “What would you like me to do, Luci~?” She cooed, gently rolling her palm against his erection as he scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling.
“U-Use our pact on me, I want to be completely at your mercy...master,” he pleaded, trying to raise his hips to get more friction, which she smirked at.
“Alright then, if that’s what you want,” MC shrugged before quickly pulling down both his pants and boxers in one fluid motion, making Lucifer gasp as his cock sprang free. Pumping the length of it with both hands, Lucifer’s one hand gripped at the sheets underneath him while the other was pressed against his mouth to quiet his mewls. “Ah ah, put your hands down,” she commanded, Lucifer automatically complying as both their pact marks glowed. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of the pact buzzing through him, the feeling of complete powerlessness towards his master. “No holding back your voice, you’re going to be as loud and noisy as possible when I’m pleasuring you,” she continued her commands, stopping her hand movements which made Lucifer cry out loudly and try to buck his hips into her hand, failing when she pulled her hand away altogether. Grinning when she saw her orders were working, she pressed a sloppy kiss on Lucifer’s lips as he tried to chase her when she pulled away. “Seeing all the precum coming out of you, I think you’re prepped enough, am I right?” She questioned while taking off her clothes agonizingly slow as he watched, mouth watering at the sight. He nodded vigorously. “Use your words,”
“Yes! Yes, I’m ready, master!” Lucifer yelled out, throwing his head back when he felt her tease her entrance with the head of his cock.
“I wonder if your younger brothers can hear just how much of a good boy you’re being for me,” MC commented before slamming herself down on him, resulting in them both crying out loudly as pleasure wrecked through both their bodies. “A-Ah, you feel so good, Luci~” she stuttered out, starting to slowly go up and down the length of him as he held on to her hips. “Such a good boy for me,” she praised, lifting both his hands over his head as she interlocked their lips, this one full of tongue and groans. She dipped down to one of his nipples, suckling on them as he let out rapid cries from his lips. He loved the feeling of how exposed he was with his hands over his head, keeping them there even when MC pulled her hands away.
“Yes! F-Faster, h-harder~!” Lucifer whined which she complied to. Picking up the pace, she bounced on top of him, grinding against him every once and a while as the room filled with sounds of slapping skin and noisy cries spilling from both their lips. “I-I’m cumming, master! Can I please spill it inside? Please!” He begged, knowing he couldn’t hold it in much longer.
“Do it! Claim my insides, Lucifer!” MC replied, nearing her peak as well. Lucifer met each of her bounces with a thrust of his own as they both chased their highs, both of them coming undone with she harshly bit into his chest. Ecstasy wrecked through them as Lucifer let out a long and loud moan, his bottom half spasming as he spilled his seed inside as she clamped on top of him. Both their eyes had rolled back, MC continuing to lazily bounce on top of him as they both rode out their highs. She promptly fell against his chest, gently licking where she bit him as the both of them breathed heavily. After a few comfortable minutes of silence had past, MC pushed herself up to be face to face with Lucifer. “Hey, Luci...could I...have my way with your ass too?” She asked boldly, watching as his eyes widened for a second before feeling the way he twitched where he was still inside her.
“I suppose you can...” Lucifer drawled out, feeling himself hardening with every passing second. “I do have some, ahem, equipment in my nightstand,” his eyes flitting to the dark wood beside him as MC’s eyes lit up.
“Ooh, you naughty boy~” she teased, promptly raising herself off him before making her way to the drawer.
“A-Ah, don’t get off so fast like that,” he hissed, now being able to see his hardened length and both of their intermingled essences coating it, which he inevitably found attractive. MC hummed in reply, too busy rummaging through the contents of the drawer, allowing Lucifer to have a full view of her ass which he appreciated immensely. Watching her with amused eyes, his eyes followed her movements when she held up a newly bought realistic strap-on and a bottle of lube. Oh jeez, why did she have to choose something so massive, not to mention something he hadn’t built the courage to use on himself just yet.
“Seeing the array of ‘equipment’, as you call it, I assume pleasuring yourself through the backdoor isn’t new to you?” She giggled, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the way his mouth was agape while watching her put it on.
“Nothing more than the usual buttplug or vibrator,” Lucifer whispered out, watching as she scooted closer. “And definitely nothing as massive as that,” he continued, hissing suddenly at how cold the lube was when she applied it to his hole.
“Now you know how I feel,” MC teased, rubbing soothing motions on his inner thigh as she prepped him with a finger, more following after that as she continued to stretch him out. He covered his eyes with his forearm at the feeling, breathing out slowly as his body relaxed from her gentle touch. “I’ll be gentle,” she assured, pressing gentle kisses over his thighs but tilting her head to the side when she saw the turmoil in his eyes. “Would you rather not?” She asked softly, stopping her touches as she looked at him, awaiting his reply patiently.
“N-no...that’s not it,” he mumbled out, the way he was acting now was in stark contrast of how he usually was, so she was enjoying it. He was just so cute. “What if I don’t want you to be gentle...” he trailed off, averting his gaze and trying his best to ignore the painful need for the feeling of being full as well as release.
MC giggled, pressing a brief kiss on his lips as he made eye contact with her again. “Just direct me how you want it like we did before, okay?” She responded. He nodded, cueing her to start her caresses again. “Okay, I’ll need you to get on your knees,” she directed, him quickly complying as he did so, holding himself up with his elbows as he lifted his ass into the air. Anticipation and excitement surged through Lucifer’s body as MC pulled her fingers away when she felt he was prepped enough. Squeezing a generous amount of lube on her hand, she applied it to the strap-on then positioned herself at his entrance. As MC gently began to push it inside, Lucifer gripped at the pillows underneath him at the mix of pain and pleasure of feeling stretched. Taking a couple seconds to sheathe the whole length of it inside him, she stopped her movements once it was complete and waited for him to adjust as quiet sighs left his mouth.
Lucifer was quick to adapt, beginning to rock himself back against it in desperate need for her to move. “Please...move,” he pleaded, continuing his motions before MC stopped him with her hands on his hips. Before he could protest the lack of movement, she slowly began to thrust deeply into him, making him let out a low groan as his head fell forward. Wanting to see his face, she pulled at his hair to raise his head up resulting in a whine to spill out his mouth at the feeling. She reveled in the sight of his lidded eyes and blushed cheeks, mouth agape from ecstasy as she continued to rut into him. Quickening the speed, more noises spilled from Lucifer’s mouth as MC began visibly sweating, with both Levi and Lucifer she realized this was a lot more work than she realized but she enjoyed the reward of hearing their voices from it. Encasing Lucifer’s cock with her fist, she pumped it in rhythm with her thrusts, noting that he was close when she felt it twitch in her hand. He was reveling in all the stimulation, his arms had long gave out on him resulting in his cheek being pressed against the mattress as he moved in tune with every snap of MC’s hips, the bed creaking underneath them, he was pleasantly surprised that someone as frail as her could claim him so well. MC completely pulled herself out of him, barely allowing him to whine at the loss of fullness, before ramming the full length back in all at once, successfully pounding into his prostate in one fluid motion as well as causing him to come undone. A string of loud mewls, curses, and her name mingled in between, spilled out his mouth along with a bit of drool as he came all over his stomach and the sheets, finishing so hard some of it even ending up on his face.
MC pulled out of him slowly, setting the strap-on aside as she gently laid him down on the bed. She started to wipe him off, cooing words of praise as she did so. He watched her with a glinted gaze, he was so soft when he was with her. Sitting up halfway, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss after she had cleaned it up. Laying on his chest, she looked up at him as he smoothed her hair. “You did very well, master,” he teased with a chuckle as her face heated up. She averted her gaze in an embarrassed manner but Lucifer was quick to pull her face up by her chin as he kissed her forehead. “I love you, MC. Endlessly and irrevocably so,” he stated, his voice deep and warm as he looked at her with such an intimate gaze that she knew she mirrored as well.
“I love you too, Lucifer,” she replied, bringing a hand to his cheek. She could see the endless love in Lucifer’s eyes, but there was something else there as well, a look that indicated he had a plan from the beginning.
“I love you so much that I can’t help but be a little irked that I wasn’t your first scenter, especially since it ended up being Mammon out of all my younger brothers,” he tsked, red eyes boring into hers.
“Hey! Mammon is great,” she defended the second-born which made Lucifer lift an eyebrow.
“Hm? Is my dearest human really defending someone else while we’re currently entangled with one another?” Lucifer questioned. Before she could reply, he had her wrists pinned against the bed as he hovered over her. “While I thoroughly enjoyed what we did prior, I do believe my little one needs a little...punishment,” he whispered into her ear before gently licking the lobe. She shivered at the feeling, already feeling aroused at the contrast from how he was before to now. He continued leaving nips and marks against her skin, swirling his tongue around her breasts before flipping her onto her stomach to trail more kisses down her spine. She was too lost in bliss to notice the handcuffs Lucifer had placed on each of her wrists, only realizing when she heard the multiple clicks of them locking onto the bed frame.
“What are you doing-ah!” MC cried out when Lucifer began leaving soft kisses starting from her ankle and up. He gave a special amount of attention to her inner thighs as she let out quiet pants, but that was quick to turn into a yelp when he bit into the soft skin harshly, leaving a prominent mark of where his teeth once were.
“Merely teaching my darling a lesson,” Lucifer purred, before lacing a satin blindfold around MC’s eyes. “Red, yellow, green, okay?” He reassured, placing a chaste kiss on the nape of her neck as she nodded. He smiled at her warmly before pulling an item from his bedside drawer, running it up her leg and stopping to press it against her sex. It was the irrefutable feeling of cold leather against her heat that made her hiss, reminding her of his gloves he seldom took off except for this moment. “Now, I believe eight hits from the rider’s crop will suffice,” he whispered lowly into her ear as she shivered from anticipation. “One for being too much of a slut to be a good girl and wait for me to be your first scenter, especially since it ended up being the second eldest out of all people,” he stated, quickly followed by the loud smack of leather hitting her ass before he slowly rubbed circles on the blooming red area. “Two for making it so I had to choose to allow Levi, the third eldest, to be your second,” he continued, hitting the other side this time as she jolted, feeling herself getting wetter by the second. “Three, four, five, and six for when my remaining brothers claim you while I have to just sit back and allow them,” the back to back hits causing her to call out his name. “Seven for those oh so innocent touches Simeon gives you that both him and I know isn’t the case,” his voice had turned into a growl as he was reminded of it. “And eight for those bedroom eyes you always seem to give that insufferable sorcerer from across the room,” he finished with a final stinging smack, following it with a hand soothing her red skin paired with kisses. “Is my master still good to continue?” He teased lifting off her blindfold to see her teary-eyed state, licking his lips at the sight.
“Yes...please,” she pleaded, sticking her ass up in the air desperately as he chuckled. He was quick to place both his hands on her hips, positioning his painfully erect tip at her entrance.
“My master is such a good slut for my cock, isn’t that right?” Lucifer mocked, watching as she tried to push herself against him but to no avail.
“Yes, yes, I am. Lucifer, please!” MC begged. Satisfied, the avatar of pride thrust the whole length of his dick inside her as they both groaned at the feeling.
“This angle is...!” He choked out in between quickening thrusts as MC couldn’t get words to leave her mouth, only high-pitched whines. Keeping one hand pressed against her hip, the other groped at her ass and trailed up her spine as watched his shaft disappear inside her, the sight resulting in him to quicken at an impossible pace. The bed creaked and slammed against the bedroom wall as the handcuffs clacked against itself. “Yeah? Are you enjoying being taken by me so roughly, love? You’re mine, got it? No matter who else scents you, you’ll always be mine,” Lucifer growled as he reveled in the way she tightened around him due to his words and just how loud the both of them were being, his brothers could hear him claiming her without a doubt. When he felt her tighten yet again he pounded into her harder to chase his own high that he knew was so near. “Are you going to cum? Okay then do it with me. Come on, master, clamp around my cock while I paint your insides,” he yelled before the tiny thread holding them back snapped and they both came down hard. Lucifer bit into her shoulder to muffle his sounds while she spasmed underneath him before collapsing against the bed.
Pulling out of her, Lucifer was quick to unlock the handcuffs around her wrist and gently rub the slight red marks that appeared before falling down beside her. He scooped her up into his arms and proceeded to rub his neck against hers to fully scent her. “You did so well, darling,” he praised, leaving kisses as he continued his actions. MC hummed in reply, too tired to reply in words as her eyes began to flutter shut. “I love you, MC,” he whispered, fully planning on lovingly watching her sleep as he continued his scenting.
Just as she was about to go to dreamland, she mustered up enough energy to say: “I love you too,” and Lucifer was hers infinitely.
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thank you for getting this far into this LONG ASS piece! I’ve been genuinely annoyed and worried about how long this ended up but I also couldn’t get myself to shorten it so here it is! I hope you enjoyed this pure filth! oh & I’m sorry to those that have to scroll through this on their dash haha ☁️
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annecoulmanross · 3 years
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Top Ten Historical Figures Done Dirty by The Terror (2018)
So, we all know and love Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh’s beautiful show, right? Of course. But it’s important to set the historical record straight, especially when there are real people’s life-stories and legacies on the line. 
(NOTE: this list is biased heavily toward upper-class individuals because the historical record does a better job preserving those voices for us. Was the real Cornelius Hickey as nasty a person in real life as he was in the show? Almost certainly not – which is why we’re given “E.C.” as a nod to the fact that we shouldn’t assume these characters represent real historical villains, even when the narrative makes them antagonists; HOWEVER, not everyone in the show was given the same courtesy as the OG “Cornelius Hickey.” Which is why this post exists – to show you the best sides of some people you might not otherwise appreciate for their full humanity. That being said, keep in mind the sources used – and, for instance, who has surviving portraits and who doesn’t.)
Thus, below the cut, I give you this list, (mostly) in order from #10 (honorable mention, only somewhat slandered) to #1 (most hideously maligned) – my list of characters from The Terror who deserved better. 
(Please don’t take this too seriously – I know there are reasons why choices had to be made in order to make this show work on television, and I do very much love the end product. But I also genuinely think it’s a good idea to remember the real people behind these characters, and think critically about how we depict them ourselves.) 
Bottom Tier – The Overlooked Men of the Franklin Expedition
#10. Richard Wall – & – John Diggle
We’re combining these two because they had a lot in common, historically speaking! Both were polar veterans, having served as a Cook (Wall) and an AB-then-Quartermaster (Diggle) on HMS Erebus under the command of Sir James Clark Ross in the Antarctic expedition of 1839-1843. Certainly we do get some good scenes with them in the show, but there was plenty more to explore there – for instance, Captain Ross was apparently so taken with Richard Wall that he hired him on as a private cook after the Antarctic expedition. (One imagines that Sir James may have regretted letting his friends of the Franklin expedition steal Wall out from under him.)
(If you want some more information on Diggle, the brilliant @handfuloftime​ found this excellent article on him – fun facts include the detail that Diggle’s only daughter bore the name Mary Ann Erebus Diggle.) 
#9. John Smart Peddie 
Now, I don’t think we should go as far as the Doctor Who Audio Drama adaptation of the Franklin Expedition, which makes Peddie into Francis Crozier’s oldest friend, someone “almost like a brother” to Crozier (no evidence of ANY prior relationship between the two existed, contrary to whatever the Doctor Who Audio Dramas would have you believe!) but Peddie probably earned his place as chief surgeon, however fond we may all be of the beautiful Alex “Macca” MacDonald, who was, in fact, the Assistant Surgeon, historically speaking. It’s hard to find information about Peddie, but someone should go looking! I want to know about this man! 
(If you want to know more about the historical Alexander MacDonald, there’s a short biographical article on him from Arctic that you can read here.)
#8 James Walter Fairholme
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The only one of the expedition’s lieutenants who doesn’t really get any characterization in the show, which is a travesty! The historical Fairholme (pronounced “Fairem”) was, as they say, a himbo, and the letters that he wrote home to his father are positively precious. He loved the expedition pets (lots of kisses for Neptune!), and he needed two kayaks because he couldn’t fit into just one with his beefy thighs. Fitzjames loaned him a coat when all the Erebus officers had their portraits taken, and then called him a “smart, agreeable companion, and a well informed man,” and Goodsir singled Fairholme out as “very much interested” in the work of naturalist observations. Just a lovely young man who could have gotten some screen time, you know? 
(Also, as @transblanky​ discovered, four separate members of the Fairholme family gave money to Thomas Blanky’s widow when she was struggling financially in the 1850s, making them, combined, the most generous contributor to her subscription.) 
Middle Tier – Franklin’s Men Who Didn’t Deserve That
#7. William Gibson
Alright, I want to talk about how uniquely horrible the show’s William Gibson is: this is a character willing to lie and accuse his partner of sexual assault that didn’t happen. I get there were extenuating circumstances, but if I were a historical figure who died in some famous disaster and someone depicted me doing something like that? Let’s just say I’m deeply offended on the real Gibson’s behalf. 
What do we know about the historical William Gibson? Not much – but we know a little. Gibson’s younger brother served on an overland exploratory venture across Australia in the 1870s… from which he never returned. (God, the Gibson family had the worst luck?) This description of a conversation that young Alf Gibson had with expedition leader Ernest Giles only days before his death is VERY eerie: 
[Gibson] said, “Oh! I had a brother who died with Franklin at the North Pole, and my father had a deal of trouble to get his pay from government.” He seemed in a very jocular vein this morning, which was not often the case, for he was usually rather sulky, sometimes for days together, and he said, “How is it, that in all these exploring expeditions a lot of people go and die?” 
I said, “I don't know, Gibson, how it is, but there are many dangers in exploring, besides accidents and attacks from the natives, that may at any time cause the death of some of the people engaged in it; but I believe want of judgment, or knowledge, or courage in individuals, often brought about their deaths. Death, however, is a thing that must occur to every one sooner or later.” 
To this he replied, “Well, I shouldn't like to die in this part of the country, anyhow.” In this sentiment I quite agreed with him, and the subject dropped.
(From Giles’s Australia Twice Traversed which you can read here) 
Beyond that, one thing we do know is that William Gibson was probably friends with Henry Peglar – they had served on ships together before, and Gibson may possibly have been the poor fellow found cradling the Peglar Papers, according to researcher Glenn Stein. So we might imagine the historical Gibson as a much kinder man than the show’s depiction of him – this was someone who befriended the clever, playful Peglar we all know and love from the transcriptions of his papers, so full of poetry and linguistic jokes. It’s a shame we didn’t get a chance to meet this real Gibson, who actually knew the Henry Peglar whom we love so well.
#6. Stephen Stanley
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Look. There’s that one famous line in James Fitzjames’s letters to the Coninghams about how Stanley went about with his “shirt sleeves tucked up, giving one unpleasant ideas that he would not mind cutting one’s leg off immediately – ‘if not sooner.’” And certainly Harry Goodsir had some mixed opinions of the man, saying was “a would be great man who as I first supposed would not make any effort at work after a time,” and that he “knows nothing whatever about subject & is ignorant enough of all other subjects,” whatever…. that means…. 
But Fitzjames also had some rather nicer things to say about him, that he was “thoroughly good natured and obliging and very attentive to our mess.” Also, the amputation comment? Very likely had a quite positive underlying joke to it – Stanley may not have been much of a naturalist, but he was actually an accomplished anatomist, who won a prize for dissection in 1836, on account of his “bend of the elbow,” which was “a picture of dissection,” according to Henry Lonsdale, who also called Stanley his “facetious friend” and “a fine fellow” (Lonsdale 1870, pg. 159). So, the real Stanley probably was rather droll, but the perpetually cruel Stanley of the show misses some of the real man’s major historical virtues and replaces them with historically unlikely mass-mercy-murder. 
#5. John Irving
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Now we’re getting into the territory of characters who did get some good development, but are missing a bit of historical nuance. As I’m sure many of you know, the historical Irving was indeed very religious, but the flashes of anger (i.e. against Manson) we see from Irving in the show don’t seem terribly consistent with the Irving depicted in this memorial volume, where John seems more like a quiet, bookish, mathematically inclined young man, with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a gentle sweetness. It’s really not at all far off from the version of Irving we see with Kooveyook in the show – I just wish we could have seen more of that side of Irving. 
Top Tier – The Triumvirate of Polar Friends
So, these three DO have many good things to recommend them in the show, but because I’ve done such deep research on them, it can be quite jarring to watch certain scenes in which they behave contrary to their historical personalities, and I find myself pausing when watching the show with friends or family to explain that NO, they wouldn’t do that! 
#4. Sir James Clark Ross
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First thing – we LOVE Richard Sutton. He did a beautiful job with the material given to him. (This is true of all the actors on the list, frankly, but it’s doubly true here.) But that scene at the Admiralty where Sir James tells Lady Franklin “I have many friends on those ships, as you know,” to shut down her argument for search missions? At that time (aka 1847), historically, Sir James Clark Ross was actively campaigning for search missions, planning routes and volunteering his services in command of any vessel the Admiralty even vaguely contemplated sending out. You could see this real-life desperation in Sir James’s morose attention to his whiskey glass in that scene if you’re really trying, but I think the more historically responsible thing would have been to make vividly clear that James Ross risked life and limb, as soon as he possibly could, to try to rescue Franklin and Crozier and Blanky, men he’d known and cared about and bitterly missed – and, in the case of Crozier, “truly loved.” 
#3. Sir John Franklin
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The historical Franklin had plenty of flaws – his contributions to British colonial rule certainly harmed no small number of people, and we should question the way that heroic statues of Franklin are some of the only memorials that serve to honor the lives lost on Franklin’s expeditions – especially considering the steep body count of not only Franklin’s final voyage, but his previous missions in Arctic regions as well. (DM me and I’ll scream at you about counter-monuments! Is this a promise or a threat? Who knows!) With that said, most contemporary accounts agree that Sir John Franklin treated his friends, his family, and those within his social orbit with kindness, and his cruelties were systemic, not personal. In this light, the image of Sir John viciously tearing into Francis Crozier’s vulnerabilities in the show feels very off. Though there was certainly some friction over Crozier’s two proposals to Sophia Cracroft, historically speaking, there’s no evidence at all that Sir John discouraged her from marrying Francis – Sophia may have had many reasons of her own (*clears throat meaningfully in a lesbian sort of way*) for not accepting any of the several marriage proposals offered to her (from Crozier as well as from others), and we ought to keep in mind that she remained unmarried all her life. The notion that the real Sir John would have considered Crozier too low-born or too Irish to be part of the Franklin family isn’t grounded in historical fact.
#2. Lady Jane Franklin
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Again disclaimer: the real Lady Franklin left behind a legacy with much to critique. Those who rightfully point out the racism of her treatment of the young indigenous Tasmanian girl Mathinna should be fully heard out. Observations of her own contributions to imperialism are important and valid. Though I tend to see her feud with Dr. John Rae as somewhat understandable – given that Lady Franklin didn’t have the benefit of our hindsight knowing Rae was correct – the levels of prejudice that she enabled and even encouraged in the writing of Charles Dickens when he attempted to discredit Inuit accounts of Franklin’s fate are inarguably deplorable. These things being said, everything noted for Sir John re: Sophia Cracroft goes for Lady Franklin as well – there’s no reason to imagine a scene where Jane would bully Francis Crozier within an inch of his life, seconds after a failed second proposal, when, historically, Lady Franklin felt the situation was so delicate that it required the quiet and compassionate intervention of Sir James Clark Ross, a dearly loved mutual friend to all parties. Tension does not imply aggression; conflict is not abuse. We know this can’t have been an easy experience for the historical Francis Crozier, but the picture is a lot more complicated than what can be shown in one small subplot of a ten-episode television show. Because of this complexity, however, Lady Franklin’s social deftness suffers in the show. (I could also write an entire essay about Jane Franklin’s last shot in the show, at the beginning of Episode 9: The C the C the Open C – TL;DR is that framing is very important, and, at the very last moment, the show reframes Lady Franklin as a mutilated corpse, a speaking mouth without a brain, which is….. a choice.)
And, at number 1, the person done most dirty by The Terror (2018) is….
#1. Charles Frederick “Freddy” Des Voeux 
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Look. I’m biased here because I am fed daily information about the historical Freddy Des Voeux from @frederickdesvoeux​ so I’ve become, I think understandably, a bit attached. 
But this is very plainly the clearest cruelty the show does to a historical figure – the historical Des Voeux was a very young man (only around 20 when the ships set sail) known always as “Frederick or Freddy” to his family, and described by all parties as bright and sweet – Fitzjames said that he was “a most unexceptionable, clever, agreeable, light-hearted, obliging young fellow, and a great favourite of Hodgson’s, which is much in his favour besides,” and described him cheerfully helping to catch specimens for Goodsir. Des Voeux is named “dear” by Captain Osborn in Erasmus Henry Brodie’s 1866 poem on the Franklin Expedition (43) and Leo McClintock reported the young man’s well-known “intelligence, gallantry, and zeal” in his 1869 update to his account of the Franklin Expedition’s fate (xlii). None of this is consistent with Des Voeux’s behaviour in the show, especially in the later episodes. 
To reduce Des Voeux to an easily-detested figure, over whose death one might cheer, is not a kindness – the creation of a narrative where his death is satisfying does damage to the memory of a real person, a barely-more-than-teenager who died in the cold of the Arctic and left behind only scraps of a shirt and a spidery signature in the bottom margin of a fragmentary document. 
Television shows may need their villains, but it’s important to remember that real life isn’t like that. Surely the historical Frederick Des Voeux was most likely not a perfect person, and, as an upper class officer contributing to a British imperial project, he does bear some responsibility for the harm done by the Franklin expedition, but it’s not accurate to assume he was any less worthy of sympathy than the other officers who considered him a friend – those men whom we now venerate, like James Fitzjames. So as far as I’m concerned, Freddy Des Voeux deserves at least as much consideration, care, and compassion from us. 
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A Very Special Night
Hey everybody! Here’s a quick oneshot I wrote where Toph and Su help Lin get ready for her school dance, because we deserve more happy Beifongs and Lin getting the love and support from her family that she was denied in canon. Enjoy! 
“So, are you nervous? You must be nervous, you’re not eating.”
Lin looked up from her plate at her sister’s words. It was true, she was nervous. Her dinner lay untouched on her plate, as her stomach was in knots.
“Eat up, baby girl. You can’t dance on an empty stomach. Well, I suppose you can, but you shouldn’t,” her mother chimed in. 
“No, no, I’m not nervous. I’m just… excited, that’s all!,” she lied, something her mother picked up on immediately. 
Toph’s expression shifted into one of concern.
“What’s wrong, Linny? This is a big night, you should be over the moon right now,” she wondered. 
It was true, tonight was a big night. When her school at first announced that they were going to be hosting a formal, Lin decided right away that she would not be attending. She was a horrible dancer, not to mention socially awkward, and she didn’t know the first thing about getting dressed up. It wasn’t until one of her oldest and quite frankly only friends, Tenzin, had decided that he wanted to go and as his best friend she was obligated to go with him was she convinced to buy a ticket. 
Lin wasn’t sure why she felt like her heart was gonna beat out of her chest when he asked her to go with him. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. She had known Tenzin forever. This was just a friend thing, she repeated over and over again in her head, although the mantra didn’t do much to rest her fast beating heart. 
“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”
“Promise,” Toph and Su assured her.
“Well, I have a dress and shoes and everything, but I’m still not really sure how I’m going to do my hair and makeup. You know I’m not good at that stuff,” she confessed, blushing. 
Su perked up. “Oh, that’s easy! I can do it for you, I’m great at that stuff!”
It was true. Su had always had a keen and stylish eye that her visually challenged mother and dorky sister lacked. Maybe Lin should have felt embarrassed that her ten year old kid sister knew more about these things than herself, a girl of fifteen, but she was honestly just grateful for her help. 
“Here, I can do it right now no problem,” Su offered. The sisters got up from the table and began to make their way upstairs.
“Hey, girls! Aren’t you gonna finish your dinner?,” Toph called out.
“Yeah, yeah, we will in a bit. But this is more important!,” Su shouted back from the top of the staircase.
The girls made their way to the bathroom, where Su sat Lin down on the closed toilet seat. She pulled out a hairbrush and assorted hair elastics and then plopped herself down on the edge of the bathtub behind her sister. 
“So, you and Tenzin?,” she asked suggestively as she brushed out Lin’s hair. 
Lin began to blush. “What about me and Tenzin?”
“Is this a date?”
Lin’s face lit up bright red. “Wh- what? No- no we’re just friends. We’re going to the dance as friends. Not a date. Why would I be going on a date with Tenzin?”
“Because you have a huge crush on him?,” Su said knowingly, as if this should have been obvious.
“No! No I don’t! Who told you that anyways?”
Su rolled her eyes. “Nobody told me, silly! I figured it out myself. You make it pretty obvious, you know.”
“No I do not! I do not make it obvious because I do not have a crush on Tenzin!”
Su sighed. It appeared she was going to have to bring in the big guns.
“Hey Mom! Does Lin have a crush on Tenzin?,” she shouted down to Toph in the kitchen.
“Su! What are you doing?,” Lin asked her sister angrily, a warning tone in her voice.
Toph laughed. “Well duh! She’s had a crush on him since she was like, what? Five? Six?”
Lin’s face was growing redder by the minute. “Mom! Why would you say that? I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush. On. Tenzin.” 
“Sorry baby girl. Deny it all you want, but your heartbeat always goes crazy for that airhead. Don’t worry, he likes you back,” Toph called up to them from the kitchen.
“What?,” Lin shrieked, although she couldn’t deny that she didn’t entirely hate the idea. She more than just not hated it. She actually… well she could actually get used to the idea. Tenzin having a crush on her. 
Su giggled. “Keep still, I’m trying to do your makeup. Unless you want me to poke you in the eye with this thing,” she joked, waving the mascara wand in front of her face. 
Lin rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I would mind having my eyes poked out right about now. And maybe gag me with a spoon while you’re at it.” 
Five minutes and lots of eye goop later, Lin had been transformed into a thing of beauty. That’s not to say that she wasn’t already beautiful as she was, but it wasn’t as if Lin put a ton of effort into her appearance on a daily basis. She told herself that it was because she had more important things to worry about, but in reality it was mostly because she always felt as if she couldn’t really pull it off. 
“Here! All done! You look absolutely gorgeous, Tenzin is going to love it,” Su told her with pride. 
Lin took a look at herself in the mirror. Her sister hadn’t been lying. Her dark hair was done up in a low bun at the base of her neck with a braided crown circling her head. A blue lotus blossom poked out from behind her ear to match the shade of the shadow on her eyes. Her lips were glossy, and her cheeks blushed a faint pink.
She looked fantastic. 
“Wow, Su. I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”
“My pleasure!,” she replied with a smile.
“I’m gonna go put on my dress. How about you go downstairs and help Mom figure out the camera?” 
Su gasped audibly as Lin emerged from the top of the stairs several minutes later. Her beautiful blue qipao dress perfectly matched the flower tucked behind her ear, and it made her look and feel like a star. 
“How do I look?,” she asked nervously. 
“Wow, Lin. You look amazing!,” Su exclaimed.
Toph walked up to where her daughter was standing and cupped her face with her hands, tracing her features softly with the tips of her fingers. She had to reach up and pull her face down to her level, as Lin had undergone quite the growth spurt within the past few years and had shot up well above her chronically short mother. 
“Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”
Toph began to tear up a little. “I can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up. Where does the time go? It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms for the very first time.”
“Yeah baby girl, where does the time go?,” Su repeated in a light mocking tone, although there was no real malice behind it. 
“You’re growing up too, little miss beauty parlour,” Lin reminded her sister with a laugh, but she was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. All of a sudden, the nerves she had been keeping at bay all came flooding back to her. 
“He’s here! Okay, you guys cannot embarrass me.”
Toph threw up her hands defensively. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Mom, that means you can’t try and interrogate him like he’s some criminal. And Su, if you mention anything about this being a date or how I have a crush on him, I’m going to have to kill you later,” she warned her family. 
“Got it. Scout’s honour,” Toph swore.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Su agreed reluctantly. 
Lin took a deep breath and opened up the door. 
“Wow, you look fantastic!,” Tenzin exclaimed, blushing. 
Lin began to blush herself. Tenzin had gotten pretty dressed up. She was surprised to see him in a suit, normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in one unless his parents forced him to. 
“You look pretty good yourself,” she complimented him. 
Su waggled her eyebrows suggestively behind Tenzin’s back, and Lin shot her a warning look.
“So, Tenz. Bring my daughter home in one piece, will ya? We kind of like her around here.”
“Oh yeah, of course Aunt Toph!”
Toph raised one eyebrow at him.
“Oh- uhhh- I mean- uhhhh- yes. Yes ma’am. I will do that,” he stammered. 
“Good man,” Toph validated him with a nod of her head, apparently unable to resist an opportunity to take a power trip. 
“Let’s take pictures, and then you guys can go have your fun,” Su giggled. 
Lin rolled her eyes at her sister, but obliged to take a few cheesy photos of her and Tenzin posing together. 
“Alright, we better get going or we’re going to be late,” Tenzin warned.
“Right. Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours, bye!,” she said, waving goodbye to her mother and sister. 
“Have fun, kiddo! Don’t spike any punch, at least not without me there to make fun of the aftermath!” 
“Bye Lin! Bye Tenzin! Have fun on your date!,” Su called out as the door slammed shut.
Lin shot a look at her sister, but it was too late. Tenzin had heard.
“D- date? Is this a date?”
Lin’s face burned bright red. ��I mean- n- no. Unless you want it to be?”
Tenzin went quiet for a moment, as if he were thinking it over.
“Yes, yes I do. I do want this to be a date. But I mean, only if you want it to be.”
“I think I do.”
Tenzin’s entire face lit up, and Lin felt herself begin to grin as well. Perhaps school dances weren’t so terrible after all.
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epicmoonintensifies · 3 years
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Part One: Headcanons: A Relationship with Qrow
What have I been asked for?
Ironwood headcanons.
What have I not been asked for?
This.
What am I doing???
… This.
Have some Qrow Relationship Headcanons, Part Two!
🖤
Okay I said he wasn't a big crier but let me clarify something because by some standards, he really isn't, but comparatively–
(Listen growing up in the tribe + the anxiety he developed from dealing with his semblance combined into a trainwreck of emotional processing issues, so he very often struggles to cry when all he wants to do is have a breakdown, but–)
He sniffles and tries to hide tears when it's not the time for this, dammit, but the second he's alone with you it's big fat tears and heaving sobs against your shoulder and shaking so hard and for so long that he's wrung out and lethargic for the rest of the day because he has such a hard time crying that when he finally gets to, it's like a dam has broken.
He brings you shinies that he finds. Not any shinies, not foil wrappers and coke cans, but brass buttons and lost earrings and colored glass and anything that catches the light that is also interesting, and you can use them to decorate or craft into something else or keep in a jar because these are tokens of affection but also evidence of his funny little bird habits that he denies having, ha
Speaking of which!!!
N E S T
"I'm not actually a bird; I don't nest," he says, building a nest, which he will nest in.
Soft things soft things soft things, all together, meant to be a safe soft space, the places where The Best Cuddles happen, just hold him there until he doesn't feel like a mess.
Play. With. His. Hair. Pls.
He wants to feed you let him feed you. Or at least let him pay for the freaking pizza, okay, it makes him feel good about himself.
Nobody messes with you, because everybody knows about Qrow. Just saying.
Mmmm ravens and crows both mate for life and that translates in his human brain much more strongly than anyone would guess.
He's gonna keep you, he has too, he's never been this close with anyone before and he doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to let go if you ever decide that this isn't working out–
(There's a ring in a box that he's too scared to touch, so he waits and he waits and he hopes that you might bring it up first because how is he supposed to be braver than the knot of fear in his chest?)
He can't fly with you so he settles for a fast drive on a country road with the top down so that he can feel the wind on his face while you're by his side, but he'd do anything to give you a chance to fly.
He's good at fixing things because he was so sick of breaking everything around him and you can feel it in the rough calluses of his hands, where the work was put into making himself dangerous and effective and efficient, but he's so gentle when he touches you that it takes time for you to get used to it.
He sees you holding Yang and Ruby, tucked in at your sides, and he melts buttery-soft around the edges.
The girls adore you and end up in your house a lot because apparently anybody who can get Qrow to be a sober, not-entirely-depressed person is the responsible babysitter version of the "It's free real estate!" meme, according to Tai.
(Hey guess what, Qrow's semblance doesn't act up as much when he's emotionally stable! Who would have thought!!)
But you embrace your role as the fun aunt and treat Ruby and Yang like the darlings they are, recruiting them to help you make sweets or cheer Qrow up or play very, very important games of hide-and-seek.
He is big spoon. He is little spoon. He is whichever spoon. Pls, spoon. Big spoon kisses and nuzzles the back of your head and plays with your hair and holds you. Little spoon holds your hand and curls up against you like he wants you to squish him down small.
Let him spoooooon.
Play fighting. Play dancing? Both? Maybe. Hard to tell.
Sings. Hums. Catches little bits of birdsong while he's in one form and translates them into something comprehensible when he's human. Mostly for you.
Ohhhhhh boy does he dote on you when you don't feel well.
He might tease you a bit at first when he thinks you're just being a wimp, but if you're actually sick or hurt or on your period, he is Nurse Qrow, to the rescue.
I'm not saying that he's good at it, I'm just saying he does it.
He tries.
He can bring you water and cuddle you and make sure you're comfortable but all the food is gonna be takeout and leftovers because he doesn't trust himself to boil water, okay. His semblance isn't trustworthy and he won't tempt fate with chicken noodle soup.
You don't "go out" on dates very often because it's safer to keep Qrow in a space that you've sort of baby-proofed. You have mastered stay-at-home romantic dates, and Qrow actually loves them because he's a sap and also because dinners by candlelight and making a blanket fort and pretending it's a movie theater is… well, in the tribe, romantic pairings were a battle. This is so different and, quite frankly, the height of romance, as far as Qrow is concerned. He's convinced that you're spoiling him.
So he spoils you in return, but the the ring in the box burns and he can't stand not knowing–
He cuddles and kisses and hides his blush against your neck as he tries to find words but can't, so he just pulls out the box and hopes that you'll understand when the ring inside gleams and glitters in the dim light all he can bear to say is, "Please."
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
I Got You (Part 1)
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Summary: The reader is celebrating her two year anniversary with her fiance when her best friend from childhood, Jensen, calls. Something’s wrong with him and he tries to play it off once he remembers what night it is for her but the reader isn’t budging and that may be a good thing for the both of them...
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Word Count: 4,000ish
Warnings: language, angst, vomiting, lying, mention of alcoholism, fluff
A/N: This is a little different for me but I’m really please with how it turned out. Enjoy!
_______
“This looks delicious, babe,” said Andrew as he sat down at the table. You hummed, a little annoyed that he hadn’t let you know he’d be home two hours late. On your anniversary. Your two year anniversary. You wouldn’t mind if he ever let you know but he never, never did and always got mad when you brought it up. You poked at the food and he took a bite, making a face. “It’s a little cold.”
“Well that’s what happens when you reheat it in the microwave,” you said. He bit his tongue and continued to eat quietly, a bit of tension still in the air.
“How was your day?” he asked when he was nearly done with his food.
“Fine. Yours?” you asked, picking at your salad and ignoring the chicken.
“Good. I’m sorry I was late, babe. Why don’t we go out to eat?” he asked.
“It’s our anniversary. I wanted to make you dinner,” you said.
“I ate it,” he said. “You seem hungry still.”
“I’m fine. I just want to watch a movie or something,” you said. He didn’t say anything as he ducked into the bedroom and changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. You cleaned up the dishes and went to the bedroom. You grabbed leggings and an old big t-shirt of Jensen’s you’d stolen from his place somewhere around season 10 if you had to guess by the number just under the back collar. You padded into the bathroom and changed out of your skinny jeans and crop top. You took off the new black lingerie you had on and put on something more comfortable. Andrew wouldn’t even notice.
You walked out of the bedroom and found him on the couch, watching some action movie. You sat down in his side and saw your phone light up at the end of the couch. A glance showed it was Jensen and that you had four missed calls from him.
“Did you put my phone on silent?” you asked, reaching over for it.
“It is our anniversary,” he said.
“Yeah and I’m also one of Jensen’s emergency contacts,” you said, rolling your eyes and quickly answering. “Jay?”
“Hey, Y/N,” he said. Something was wrong. His voice was off and it took him a minute to talk again. “Can you come over? I just found out something and I could use you right now.”
“I thought you were in Toronto this week to film for The Boys,” you said.
“I was. Flew down to Dallas for my brother’s birthday earlier. More free time and all, trying to see the family more,” he said.
“What’s he want?” sighed Andrew. You ignored him and heard Jensen take a shaky breath.
“Did someone die?” you asked quietly.
“No,” he said. “No. I found out something though and...I just grabbed a rental car and drove home the past few hours. I had to get out of there.”
“Are you alright?” you asked, already hating the pit forming in your stomach. You’d known him most of your life. You didn’t remember life without him to be honest. Sure, he was away a lot when he filmed but he was back more often now that he was doing shorter gigs and you’d always been there for each other, even during the really busy years. “Buddy.”
“No, I don’t think I’m okay,” he said. He was quiet before you heard him suck in a gasp. “Fuck. It’s your anniversary. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. God, like Andrew doesn’t hate me enough already. I’m so sorry. Please enjoy your night, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re my best friend and you are so not alright,” you said. “I’m gonna come over.”
“It’s our anniversary!” said Andrew as you turned to glare at him.
“Y/N, don’t. I’m-” said Jensen as you got up.
“Where the fuck are you going?” said Andrew.
“Jensen is important to me, Andrew. He’s always gonna be important to me. I know you don’t like him but he needs me right now. You don’t even care. You didn’t care about dinner or the anniversary or putting in a little bit of effort. I used to really like you too, you know. When we got engaged though, I saw what you really wanted. Well guess what. I’m not your mother. I’m not your maid and I faked it every time,” you said.
“You’re mad at me? He’s the one ruining our anniversary!” said Andrew.
“Y/N, I’m gonna go. I’m sorry,” said Jensen before you heard him hang up. You groaned and went over to the front hall to grab your jacket. You shoved your phone in your pocket as Andrew stalked over.
“Gonna go sleep with your other boyfriend, hm?”
“Something bad happened to him and frankly, the day I introduced you to him was the day you started all this. You have hated my relationship with him from the start. He has tried so hard to be your friend and you’re always mean and you leave him out. Even your friends think it’s a dick move.”
“You want your best friend or me? Cause I don’t like him and I’m never going to,” he said. 
“I hope you treat the next girl better,” you said. You took off your ring and slammed it on the front table before grabbing your keys and tugging on your boots.
“Whore,” he mumbled.
“I’d rather be his whore than your wife any day. I’ll move my stuff out tomorrow,” you said. You slammed the door shut after yourself and took a deep breath. You weren’t as upset as you thought you’d be. You’d been considering taking a break with him for the past few months but there was no going back after that. Jensen had never been anything but kind to him and always respectful of your and Andrew’s time together.
You skipped down the stairs of the apartment building and down to the garage, rushing over to your car quickly. Something was still very wrong with Jensen and you needed to get to him asap.
“Jensen,” you said twenty minutes later, finding him outside on the balcony off his bedroom, sitting in a chair with his knees tucked to his chest. There was a half full large bottle of whiskey on the ground and the plastic wrapper from where he’d opened it. His back was to you and he turned his head away as you stepped outside. “Jay, what happened.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. You put a hand on his forehead and forced him to look at you. He was drunk. He didn’t start drinking until he’d hung up with you obviously. He was upset too and it was so rare of you to see him cry. 
“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. He let you tug him up and into his bathroom. You flipped on the light in the toilet and sat him down in front of it. “Did you eat dinner? Yes or no?”
“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Did you eat on the plane? At the airport?”
He shook his head again and you sighed.
“You just did about, I don’t know, seven, eight shots on an empty stomach. You’re not a kid anymore so if Taylor Gregson’s senior party is anything to go by, I expect you to start puking in the next three minutes.”
“Go away,” he said, wiping off his face.
“Yeah, see no, not happening. I’m also staying here tonight whether you want me to or not. Now sit, throw up in the toilet please, and I will make you something bland to eat and get you some not snot covered clothes, okay?”
“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked. He stared up at you and you instantly knelt down, giving him a hug as he hiccuped. 
“Cause you’re my best friend and I love you,” you said. “Jensen. What happened?”
“Don’t wanna…” he said, shaking his head.
“Did someone die?” you asked.
“No,” he said again. 
“What did you find out? Something with your brother? You said you were at his birthday party.”
“Later please,” he said quietly.
“Okay,” you said. You rubbed up and down his back and you felt him lurch a bit before you shut your eyes and felt wetness on your back. “Did you just throw up on me?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” he said.
“Really is like Taylor Gregson’s party all over again,” you said. “You stay here and I’m gonna take a shower.”
“I got it in your hair I think,” he said. He lurched again but you turned him towards the bowl and he was successful that time. “Ow.”
“Relax,” you said, running a clean hand through his hair for a beat. His body untensed a little but he was still upset and making a mess of himself. “Five minutes and then the shower is yours.”
You took about ten to deal with your hair and you ducked next door to his closet, finding some fresh clothes for the two of you. He managed to not get any sick on himself so after wiping his face off good and getting him to brush his teeth, he looked a little better. You found some pancake mix in the cupboard and started to work on that while he changed. He eventually came out, red eyed and sniffling a bit but he looked sober at least.
“Andrew’s gonna kill me for ruining his night,” he said.
“Andrew and I are over,” you said, waiting for the pan to heat up. Jensen stared as you shook up the jug. “He has always been an ass to you.”
“Y/N. I’m just...he’s your fiance. You’re supposed to prioritize him.”
“He’s supposed to respect people I care about. He is immature and arrogant and mean and he sucks so bad in bed. God, I’ve been dying to tell you how shitty ass of a fuck he is. The most damn selfish little prick I’ve ever met in my life and-”
“Y/N,” said Jensen. You took a deep breath and poured some batter on the pan. “You didn’t breakup cause of me, did you?”
“No. You were just the last straw. You didn’t call cause you wanted a ride or to talk about something that could be done later. You need me. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning, Christmas, my wedding day. You ever call me like that, you ever make me worry like this, I’ll be there in a fucking second,” you said. He lowered his head as you got a plate out for his dinner.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said.
“If you thought I was busy, why didn’t you call Jared? He lives three minutes away. Three,” you said. He shrugged and you sighed. “I never want to see you doing something like that ever again. I never want you to-”
“I’m not a child,” he shot back, suddenly shooting daggers at you, his face hard and green eyes a too dark shade.
“My father is an alcoholic. You want to call him up? We’ll call him up right fucking now and he’ll tell you how it nearly destroyed his life. He is twenty years sober and he can’t have a drink for the rest of his life because he used it when he was in pain. You will never, Ackles, and I mean never, drink to mask pain again in your life,” you said. The pancake was burning and you broke away your glare, dumping the burnt batter into the trash. When you walked back, Jensen was crying at the counter again and you shut your eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just...you know how my mom used to have me sleepover your house in the middle of a school week cause he was drunk and she didn’t want me to see it. You know how much it used to bother me. Little shrimpy ass Jensen, you would always tell me to sleep in your bed and you took the sleeping bag. I let you take care of me my whole life. You’re bigger than me, stronger than me. You will never worry about money again. You gave me rent money when I got laid off and refused to let me pay it back. You drove me home when I got drunk at a bar after a fight with Andrew. You stood up for me in seventh grade cause I liked science and Harrison Pitt was a dick to me back then. This is not me treating you like a child, Jensen. This is me helping my best friend because he’s in pain and I can’t stop it. All I can do is make him damn pancakes.”
“Can I have maple syrup?” he asked quietly after a few minutes. 
“Of course. I’ll get butter too,” you said. You cut up a few pieces and gave them along with the syrup to him. You made up more pancakes to reheat for breakfast, Jensen sniffling to himself as he ate. “Feel any better?”
“A little,” he said. “You were always too good for Andrew.”
“I always knew you didn’t like him,” you said. “But you tried. That’s what was important and a concept he apparently couldn’t understand. Good riddance. Oh and I kinda need a place to crash for a bit after my epic walkout.”
“I got plenty of room,” he said. He pushed his plate away when he finished and washed it up in the sink, grabbing the pan as you put away the leftovers.
“Even miserable you have far better manners,” you said with a small smile. He left the pan on the counter to dry and you wrapped your hands around his arm, leading him back to his bedroom and sitting him down. “It’s later. What happened?”
“My whole family’s been lying to me my whole life,” he said. He sat against the headboard and wiped off his nose. “My great aunt, like the super old one, she made a comment and then made a little face like I wasn’t supposed to know something. I mentioned it to my brother and he seemed coy but I knew then it was true. So I confronted my parents and...well it turns out that I’m adopted.”
“You’re what?” you said, scrunching up your face.
“Adopted. When I was an infant. They were never going to tell me,” he said.
“I don’t understand. I mean you kinda look like your dad and even your brother a bit and your sister has your nose.”
“Coincidence,” he said. “I’m a reject baby. I was given up because the couple that had me? They didn’t want me. I looked them up when I got home. Two hot shot lawyers at some big firm in New York. Three kids. Didn’t want this fuck up of one though. I was an accident. A mistake.”
“Jensen,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Jensen, you’re not...so many people get adopted. Your family loves you. You’re so much better off with who you wound up with. They adopted you because they loved you. Jensen they-”
“She used to be my mom’s friend. They adopted me because they felt sorry for me. They didn’t love me. They pitied me. They lied to me my whole life. I heard stories about when she was pregnant and the labor and they were all lies. My brother’s always known. My sister is the only one who didn’t. The whole family knew. They knew about the pathetic little baby that no one wanted the whole time,” he said.
“Hey,” you said, climbing into his lap and grabbing his arms. “You are not pathetic. I have met your parents and your family. Some nights when we were little I wanted them to be my parents. I wanted normal parents. You had the ideal family. You have the ideal family.”
“They admitted they were never going to tell me,” he said. “How fucked up is that?”
“They made a mistake in not telling you. You should have known all along,” you said, fixing the stray hairs falling over his forehead. “If I know anything though it is that they love you unconditionally. You gotta forgive them. They wanted you. You are their son and brother. They adopted you because they loved you. It sounds like your mom stopped being friends with this woman. I wonder why that was,” you said. He shut his eyes and rested his head on your chest. You shushed him as he got upset again, kissing the top of his head.
“You’re not hiding any secrets from me are you?” he asked, arms wrapped tightly around your back.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I was thirteen years old,” you said. He raised his head up and you smiled. “S’okay. I know I’m not your-”
He kissed you out of nowhere, hand cupping the back of your neck, one long, smooth motion as you felt wetness on your cheeks. He moved back slowly, dropping his hands away, swallowing thickly.
“Sorry,” he said. You smiled and moved closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” you said. “Always thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You were. I was too young to understand what it was that I felt. No one’s ever felt like you. And I can’t lose you too so I played it safe. Now...I’d rather get this out of the way so I can feel miserable for the rest of my life.”
“You think our friendship is over?” you asked.
“You were engaged an hour ago and I just kissed you. Of course it’s-”
“You’re ridiculous, Ackles, I swear,” you mumbled against his lips. “Like I said, I will always be there. Now I’d love nothing more than to fulfill every teenage fantasy and adult one if I’m being fair right now. But tonight’s not the night for that. Tonight, let out whatever you’re feeling and tomorrow, we’ll talk to your folks.”
You sat back and smiled, Jensen staring at you with soft wet eyes and you remembered the little boy waiting outside school, trying not to be upset. You lay down next to him and recalled the day you met.
“Hi,” you said, the boy turning away. “Why you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” he said.
“You look like you’re crying,” you said, walking around his other side. You heard a car horn honk and looked ahead to see your dad behind the wheel of the car. You looked around and saw no other other cars there, the boy wiping his face off. “Where’s your mom or dad?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “They said they’d be right here after school.”
“Y/N!” called your dad.
“We’re waiting!” you said back, the boy looking at you.
“For what?” asked your dad.
“What’s your name?” you asked.
“Jensen Ackles,” he said quietly.
“Jensen Ackles’ parents!” you said. Your dad sighed but he just sat back in his seat and turned up the radio. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
“I know. You got the blue backpack. All the other girls got pink ones,” he said.
“I like blue. I like pink too but I like blue more,” you said. “I like the cars on your backpack.”
“Thanks. Do you like cars?”
“Yeah,” you said. You sat down and took off your bag, pulling out a few hot wheels from the bottom of it. “Mom said I could bring them as long as I didn’t lose ‘em. Wanna play while we wait?”
“Okay,” he said, taking a seat next to you.
By the time you and Dean were being called over, the sky was a little dimmer and you saw your dad talking to a couple outside the car.
“I think I gotta go home now,” you said.
“Me too. I see you tomorrow,” he said, holding out the car he’d been playing with.
“You keep it in case you got to wait again. Then you’re not bored. I’ll wait with you though if dad says it’s okay,” you said. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he said. He gave you a hug and you smiled as you returned it. “Do you want to be best friends?”
“Yeah! That’s so cool!” you said. 
“Awesome!” he said. You both packed up and ran over to your parents, your dad chuckling as you waved bye to Jensen.
“Make a new friend on your first day?” he asked.
“That’s Jensen. He’s my best friend forever now,” you said. “That’s how it works. I know. Jensen’s got an older brother and he told him all about it.”
“I see. Well buckle up. I’m sure mom’s wondering where we are,” he said. You climbed in the back and saw his parents give a wave as they drove past. “That was real nice of you to talk to that boy when he was upset like that.”
“I didn’t like him crying, made me feel funny,” you said. “Like my chest had a tummy ache.”
“Oh, you’re going to prom with that boy aren’t you,” he mumbled.
“What’s prom?”
“A very, very long way away. Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
“I remember our first day too,” said Jensen. “I’m always a blabbering mess around you, aren’t I.”
“I think I understand what that tummy ache in my chest was. It’s that same feeling I got when you called earlier. I think we really were too young to understand back then what it was that we were experiencing.”
“You mean how I’ve been in love with you since I was five years old,” he chuckled. “Y/N. I still feel really, and I mean really, really shitty. But thank you for coming over. I need you, more than even I know I think.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” you said. You kissed him and he smiled, closing his eyes. “You want to sleep? You had a long flight and drive, not to mention day.”
“Yeah, I want to crash. I’m exhausted,” he said. You moved to get up but he sat up with you, watching you carefully. He swallowed again and you threw back the covers, climbing underneath them. 
“Not going anywhere,” you said. He got underneath with you and heard him breathe a deep breath, no sniffles in sight for the first time all night. “Jensen.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“It’ll be okay,” you said. “I promise.”
“I know. Not looking forward to tomorrow is all,” he said.
“Well I’m going with so...can’t be all bad,” you said.
“No. Like you said back then, I stick with you, I’ll be alright,” he said. “Can you get the room light?”
“Sure,” you said. You hopped out of bed and turned off the big light, walking over to his nightstand and finding the switch. You smiled when you saw the hot wheel car on there, Jensen smiling softly as he looked up at you. “Night Jensen.”
“Good night, Y/N.”
______
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
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jayeray-hq · 3 years
Note
hello!! i loved how you wrote osamu and i was wondering if it'd be okay to request atsumu for 'how he shows you affection'? thank you so much <3
Of course you can! Honestly it seems fitting my first two requests were for the Miya twins! I even had it mostly written already because I was half writing this one as I wrote Osamu’s just to ensure they were different! 😊💖
How He Shows You Affection: Miya Atsumu
Timeskip/Manga Spoilers
Warnings: very, very slight implied NSFW (so minor you might not even notice honestly)
How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist
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He Tugs/Ruffles Your Hair
           You jerked in surprise at the sudden tug on a lock of your hair, not hard enough to be painful, but enough to catch your attention, pulling your attention away from your laptop and your current project. You glanced up to see your boyfriend Miya Atsumu peering at you from across the table an amused smile on his face and a playful light in his eyes.
“What’s got ya thinkin’ so hard there?” he asked teasingly, his cheek in his palm and elbow braced on the table as he watched you a fond light in his eyes, “Ya almost look like steam is about ta come outta yer ears.”
             “Just something I need to get done for work,” you admitted with a sigh, unable to help the slight frown on your face as your mind went over everything you’d need to get done, though you were abruptly pulled out of that as he gently tugged your hair again, diverting your attention back to him.
             “Looks like it’s stressin’ ya out,” he pointed out, twirling the strand he still held between his fingers. It was a habit of his to play with whatever he was holding in his hands, and your hair happened to be a frequent victim of this behavior. He didn’t seem to be able to resist, whenever he was in the vicinity he had to be touching your hair.
 Osamu had once sarcastically told you it was because his brother had never quite gotten over pulling the pigtails of the girls he liked. It had made you laugh at the time, even as it provoked another fight between the twins about who was supposedly more mature.
 Still you thought there might’ve actually been some truth in it, because you’d slowly realized he never actually did it to anyone but you. Playfully tugging it or messing with it, and laughing if you pouted or scolded him. Both of you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him for it, especially when he almost always follows it up with a loud smacking kiss to your forehead or cheek.
 Admittedly he pulled Osamu’s hair too, but considering he was trying to yank it out by the roots you didn’t think that counted, though there had been some unfortunate painful incidents on your end as well. Luckily long practice meant he no longer had any accidents involving tugging or tangling it up into knots, and you no longer jolted when he did it and inadvertently yanked it painfully in the process.
 Another gentle tug pulled you out of your thoughts, and refocused your attention on your boyfriend who was pouting slightly at you, though you knew if you pointed it out he’d deny it vehemently. He was a grown man after all and he definitely didn’t pout like a child.
 “Yeah Tsumu?” you asked, unable to help the swell of affection as you looked at him.
 “Ya were spacin’ out on me,” he informed you, clear concern in his eyes, “This thing a yers is really doin’ a number on ya.”
             “Yeah,” you admitted with a wry smile, “just a bit.”
             “Thought so,” he told you with a self-important nod, “Somethin’ had ta be weighin’ on ya fer ya to not notice this handsome face right in front of ya.”
             “Uh-huh sure,” you told him unable to keep the amusement from your voice despite the intended sarcasm of the words, something he clearly noted if the pleased spark in his eyes was any indication.
             “How long have ya been workin’ on it anyway?” he asked deftly changing the subject.
             “A few hours maybe?” you told him glancing hesitantly at your phone trying to remember when you’d started, “a while anyway.”
             “Then why don’t ya take a break fer a bit, come out an’ we can go bug Samu at his restaurant for a bit together huh?” he proposed with a devious grin.
             “You really should leave your brother alone,” you told him unable to help your amusement.
             “Nah, Samu’s used to it, besides as the older brother it’s my job to check in on him regularly,” he assured you faux piously, then wheedled, “Come on princess it’ll be fun.”
             “Fine,” you agreed with a sigh, “You’re right I could use a break.”
             “That’s the spirit!” he encouraged, bounding out of his seat and ruffling his hand through your hair before heading for the door, “Let’s get going then!”
             You heaved a sigh, a helpless smile on your lips as you stood, attempting to straighten your hair as you went. He really was too much sometimes.
  He’s Always Touching You
             “Tsumu you’re making this kind of difficult you know,” you told your boyfriend unable to keep the amusement from your voice as you attempted to stir the vegetables in the frying pan to keep them from burning, a feat made rather difficult by the fact that Atsumu was wrapped around you from behind, his strong arms around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and his chin hooked over your shoulder.
             “It don’t seem to bother ya too much,” he informed you a slightly smug lilt to his tone as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck affectionately, pressing a chaste kiss to the sensitive skin right behind your ear.
             “That’s because I’ve gotten used to it,” you told him dryly, which was true enough. Throughout your relationship Atsumu had always been pretty physical with you, an arm slung around your shoulders, or secured around your waist, his hand in yours, fingers twined together, a hand on your shoulder or thigh, it didn’t matter when or where he always found some way to be in physical contact with you whenever the two of you were in the same vicinity.
             It honestly was a little embarrassing at times, especially since he had absolutely no qualms about doing it in public. You’d gotten the stink eye more than once from some of the more conservative people around. Osamu and Suna had actually complained fairly frequently that he was being overbearing and annoying about it, but Atsumu had quickly shut them down by claiming they were just jealous anyway, which had earned him a tussle with his twin and a disdainful look from Suna.
             Still, your boyfriend was nothing if not stubborn, and he absolutely refused to stop unless you specifically told him to, and frankly you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, not when he’d looked so hurt the one time you’d shrugged him off after a particularly nasty look from an elderly woman had made you feel incredibly self-conscious. Between his feelings and the rest of the world’s delicate sensibilities, you’d chose to save his feelings every time, and had never shrugged him off again. Besides you liked having him close to you, it was comforting, and it made your heart flutter with happiness.
             “It’s not like yer discouragin’ me here,” he teased as he accepted the small bite of food you offered to him over your shoulder with the chopsticks you’d been using to stir humming in appreciation at the taste.
             You hummed in acknowledgment unable to keep the fond smile from your face. It was true enough. When it came to Atsumu you really couldn’t get enough.
             “Off for a second,” you urged gently, pulling your meal from the stove, and shutting things off, so you could go to the table, which your boyfriend had graciously set for the two of you before he’d come over and attached himself to your back like a limpet.
             He huffed and released you for all of the second it took for you to turn around before attaching to your back again, rubbing his face against yours affectionately in a way that reminded you of a cat, and made you giggle. You should’ve been annoyed that you were forced to waddle all the way to the table, with him clinging to you the whole way, but you honestly found it pretty cute. Despite what others, and especially Osamu, would say your boyfriend really did have his cute moments.
             “You’re going to have to let go if we’re going to sit down and eat,” you pointed out reasonably once you’d reached the table and set your burden down, though the words were contradictory to your actions as you wrapped your own arms over top the ones he had around your waist and leaned back into him, resting against him and enjoying his closeness.
             “What if I don’t wanna?” he asked teasingly, gently squeezing the arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your head as he slowly rocked you back and forth in place.
             “Come on Tsumu we have to eat,” you urged with a laugh, “Especially after I made such a nice dinner for us. Can’t let it go to waste you know?”
             He agreed with a quiet grumble, and the two of you sat down to eat your dinner, though it didn’t stop him from tangling his legs together with yours under the table, making you smile once more about how cute he was.
 He Makes Time for You
             “Are you sure this is okay?” you asked your boyfriend, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last.
             “Course m’sure princess,” Atsumu told you gently tugging on a strand of your hair, his eyes soft and affectionate, surprisingly patient in the face of your concern.
             “But you have that big game coming up,” you worried peering up at him with anxious eyes, “And I know the team’s been having a lot of extra practices. I don’t want to get in the way.”
             “It’s our anniversary,” he pointed out, tucking the strand of hair he’d been pulling at behind your ear affectionately, “The team can manage without me fer just one evenin’ so I can take you out to dinner.”
             “But…!” you tried again.
             “Ah-ah,” he told you placing a firm finger over your lips to silence your protests, “We’re spendin’ the night together and that’s final. Besides we hardly need the practice, we’re gonna kick their asses again this year jus’ like we did last year so ya can stop yer fussin’ about it, otherwise I’m gonna think yer doubtin’ my capabilities.”
             You heaved a sigh in response, but decided to give in to him, just this once. He was right after all, it was just one evening, and if you thought about it, he really could probably use a break for a little bit, especially since you knew how very hard he worked. Still when you’d started dating him you’d vowed not to be like the others that had come before you and get in the way of his job.
 You knew he loved volleyball, more than pretty much anything, and you admired that about him. His passion, his drive, and the way his face lit up whenever he walked out on to the court, they were all things you loved about him and you’d never want to change them about him. You’d long accepted that you’d have to share his heart with the sport he loved at the very least, and were honestly just grateful that he’d decided to give you equal space, especially considering just how very much he loved it.
 “Alright,” you agreed at last. Honestly, you’d been more than willing to put off celebrating your anniversary until after this big game, but you couldn’t deny you found it extremely touching that he was so insistent about celebrating on the day, even more when you realized he’d clearly talked to his team about it in advance to make sure that he could, “If you’re sure.”
 “M’sure,” he told you firmly, cupping your cheek in his palm, “We’re gonna go out tonight, have a nice dinner together at that restaurant you like, maybe have some wine, maybe do some dancin’ come home and do another kind of dancin’ and have a good time together to celebrate proper, because yer worth it alright? You and our relationship are worth the time to celebrate the right way, so wait for me okay? I’ll be home at four, and our reservation is at five, dress nice.”
 “Okay,” you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face at the way he described, what sounded to you like a rather wonderful evening, practically beaming at him, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks a bit.
 “Good,” he told you with a firm nod, “See ya later then princess.”
 He bent down, and you eagerly met him half way planting his ritual goodbye kiss on his lips before letting him walk out the door, his volleyball bag casually slung over his shoulder.
 “I love you,” you told him sincerely leaning against the doorframe as you watched him leave feeling giddy and completely and utterly infatuated.
 “Love ya too princess,” he returned over his shoulder, giving you one last affectionate smile before leaving for the day.
 When the door closed you couldn’t help letting out a slightly love-sick sigh that you knew he would’ve teased you mercilessly for if he’d heard it. Really all this time, and he still somehow managed to do things that made your heart flutter and your knees feel weak. It was honestly a little ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. There just wasn’t anything better than being in love with Miya Atsumu.
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insfiringyou · 3 years
Text
BTS - A Chance Meeting (V & Ara)
Contains: Slight angst
*Alert for potential spoilers for fics not yet written in Jimin x Ara’s storyline*
Ara notices Taehyung sat alone in a quiet cafe and decides to stop by. 
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To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here
If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.
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Content below the cut
Ara hesitated, before tapping lightly on the single-pane glass with her fingernails. She didn’t want to draw too much attention but was unable to stop herself from knocking. It was a surprise to see him after so long and she had double-taken in the street. His hair was a little longer, but that was expected. The last time he had just returned from the military and his short, closely-cropped cut made him seem more somber; years older than he was. Now it was back to a length she found more familiar but the dark, wispy suggestion of facial hair on his upper lip was new. He seemed lost in thought, sat in the back of the cafe with a small cup clutched between his fingers, staring into space. Despite her being gentle, the sound seemed to startle him and he looked up. Ara gave a tentative wave, hoping he recognised her. 
She tucked her fringe behind her ear, watching him pause before he raised his hand slightly in acknowledgement. Her bleached strands felt unfamiliar as she brushed the neck of her hair; the short, pixie cut still freshly blow-dried from the hairdressers that morning. She had asked Da-eun to do it for her but the young woman had refused, thinking she might get into some kind of trouble for it. Ara understood, after all, she had not yet spoken to her manager about a change in style.
Taking the plunge, she tucked her black purse beneath her armpit and walked around the corner to the entrance; the soft tinkle of a bell above the door signalling her arrival. She could not read Taehyung’s expression as she approached his table at the back of the small space but hoped she was not intruding. He was sat snugly behind a column which, luckily, seemed private. The cafe only had a small handful of customers but she looked around cautiously before joining in. 
“Hi…” She beamed, keeping her voice low. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”
He nodded, meeting her gaze. “I’m good.” His tone gave nothing away, but after a moment he gestured to the spare chair opposite. “Do you want to sit down?”
She slid onto the seat automatically. “I can’t stay for long. I’ve got an appointment.”
He blinked a few times. “You’ve cut your hair.”
Her replying smile was bashful as her fingers moved in response to her fringe which had once more come untucked. “It was too warm in the heat. It’s much easier to maintain now.”
“It suits you.” He said coolly. 
There was a long pause between them, though it wasn’t awkward. She had grown used to these drawn-out silences, from the time he temporarily took lodge in her and Jimin’s apartment and when her boyfriend had left for the military. It would have been a lie to say she had gotten a lot from his company. He always seemed absorbed in his books as well as his thoughts, but there always seemed to be something he was holding back; an aura of mystery she couldn’t quite place and at odds with Jimin’s usual openness. But Taehyung was tidy enough and greeted her when she came home, so she hadn’t minded having him around. 
She found herself wondering what she could say to him. It seemed polite to stop and talk, but this chance meeting now reminded her how little she knew about his life now. Eventually, she spoke. “How’s the baby?”
The corner of his lips twitched in a vague smile. “Toddling.”
Ara was silent for a moment, only just realising it had been longer since she had seen him than she initially thought. “How old is he now?” She asked, voice open and inquisitive. 
He took a sip of tea; it’s aroma fragrant in the small space. She tried to read the label on the tag but couldn’t make it out. “Almost two.”
Her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s been so long. I keep meaning to go and see Cassandra, but I wasn’t sure where she was now. Is she still in Seoul?” 
Taehyung nodded, putting down his cup. It made a soft, strangely comforting sound against the china saucer. “She’s in Gangnam. Do you have her number?”
She thought for a moment, before nodding with a frown. “If she hasn’t changed it. She was kind of hard to get hold of for a while.”
“Gabriel had colic.” He replied with a shrug, as though that explained the years of absence. Ara thought the explanation a little odd, but did not comment. 
“Did you choose the name?” She asked. 
“It just seemed right.” He quickly murmured, not entirely answering the question. Ara thought the reply seemed rehearsed, as though he had answered it many times. She wondered if his family had commented on it and whether he felt the need to defend the decision. Jimin had not spoken much about Taehyung’s family, and she herself had never heard them mentioned in conversation. All of a sudden she found herself hoping they had been supportive; not just for his sake but for Cassandra, whom she had known for so long. 
Ara forced the thought away. “I bet it sounds lovely when she says it. Cassandra always had the most wonderful voice.”
Taehyung looked up from his tea cup. “She still does.”
Her mouth opened, forming an ‘oh’, thinking she might have gotten it all wrong. Or maybe things had changed in the past two years. She approached the topic tentatively. “Are you two…?”
“No.” He confirmed. “But we make it work.” He quickly added.
Ara settled back in her chair; understanding. She gave a soft smile which she hoped didn’t come across as patronising. “I can tell you care about her a lot.”
“She’s the mother of my child, Ara.” He said quietly.
She sensed the sadness in his voice; a longing he couldn’t quite put into words and she nodded. “Of course.” She changed the subject lightly, seeing there was nothing else she could say on the matter of her old friend. “You should get in touch with Jimin. I know he wants to see you.”
He appeared to wince a little but recovered well. She almost hadn’t noticed. “You can tell him he’s welcome any time he wants. He knows where I live.” He murmured. 
Ara fell silent, realising he didn’t yet know. “You really haven’t seen him in a while have you?” She asked, before pressing on. “We broke up.”
He met her eyes across the table and she saw the shock in his expression. “When?”
“A few months ago.”
Taehyung was quiet, pensive, before he asked. “Was it mutual?”
She smiled sadly. “I think he needed it too. We still speak sometimes.”
The man opposite nodded in confirmation. “That’s good.”
Ara watched as he leaned forward to pick up the cup, looking downwards as he took the last few sips. She realised how lonely he looked; how the times she had come home to find him seemingly preoccupied masked the fact he didn’t seem to have anyone. His fans, she remembered, always thought him something of an enigma. She wondered now if that was truly it. 
“Have you thought about dating again?” She suggested, making sure to keep her voice down low, should anyone else hear. 
He didn’t look up from his cup. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know…” She trailed off, figuring out how best to word it. “Being in a relationship seemed to suit you.” She shrugged. It seemed silly now she said it out loud. “As far as I could tell anyway.”
“Cass has moved on.” He murmured, frankly.
Ara hesitated. “I meant with someone else.”
Taehyung’s eyes snapped up, meeting hers purposefully and she let out an unexpected giggle. 
“I didn’t mean me.” She confirmed, shaking her head. It felt strange without the usual brush of hair against her shoulders. She settled down, her laughter subsiding, and gave a long, dramatic groan, anticipating how pathetic she must sound. “I’m still trying to find myself.”
He looked back at the table, picking up a napkin and twisting it absently between his long fingers. “I don’t think I could have that again.” 
“You never know.” She easily dismissed.
His brows knitted together, creating deep, frustrated grooves in his forehead as he mumbled, glumly. “Maybe some people are only meant to be with one person.” 
Ara raised a questioning eyebrow. “You never dated anyone before Cassandra?”
Taehyung looked up once more, answering quickly. “That was different.” He sharply declared. “I was young.”
“You’re still young.” She said, deliberately gently, seeing he was hurt.
He grew quiet and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. Ara feared she might have crossed the line and she tightened her grip on her purse, getting ready to leave before he suddenly spoke. “I wouldn’t even know where to meet someone.”
Her hands stilled and she relaxed. “Well…” She held out the palms of her hands. “What do you like?”
He met her gaze. “In a girl?” 
She shrugged. “Or a guy.”
Half-expecting him to question this, he surprised her by remaining silent, meditative; thinking deeply. She wondered if he knew about her. Perhaps Jimin had told him. 
“Someone sweet.” He eventually said. “Someone kind.”
Her lips curled, simpering. “Is that all?”
“I’m not that picky.” He stated. 
She couldn’t help but scoff. “You dated the most European girl in Seoul.”
“She’s only half European.” He contended, entirely missing the point. 
“You know what I mean...” Ara shook her head with a grin and sitting back, she reflected for a moment. “What about looks?”
“Personality is more important.” 
“You must have a preference?” She challenged, suddenly curious. 
Once again he fell silent and Ara found herself a little impressed at how seriously he was taking this. “Dark eyes...soft and sweet.”
“The kind of girl you’d bring home?” She questioned with a smirk. 
“Someone I could marry.” He stated, a little dreamily.
Ara nodded, amused. He sounded strangely serious. “I know just the girl.” She teased, an idea already forming in her mind. 
He looked at her; eyelashes heavy, giving him a sleepy look “How about you?”
She stretched in her seat, realising she hadn’t thought about it much before and was surprised he asked. Smiling to herself, she blushed. “Smooth skin. Nice lips.” She giggled in embarrassment, adding: “No stubble.”
“So Jimin?” He challenged. 
The corners of her lips turned up and she looked away, unable to help the way her heart still skipped a little at his name. “I don’t know…” She admitted, drifting off and watching from the corner of her eye as he reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. She took the opportunity to flick through her phone, typing a name and bringing up a familiar social media account. She swiped through the pictures with her manicured thumb before finding one which showed the girl in question at a good angle. It was taken at a company event, and the dress she wore was uncharacteristically short. The other girls on the make up team had talked her into wearing it but Ara saw the way she had tugged on it incessantly all night, trying to cover her pale knees with the frilled hem. 
“What about her?” Ara held out the screen, showing him. 
Taehyung squinted at the picture. “Do you know her?”  
“She’s my stylist.” She confirmed before tucking the phone back in her purse and closing the magnetic clasp. “You’d like her, she’s sweet...and single.” She added.
“What’s her name?” He asked casually. 
“Da-eun.”
She thought he was going to ask more, but instead changed the topic. “Are you going back on tour soon?”
“Once the new album’s out, we still have a lot of work to do. I’m meeting the producers this afternoon.” 
“That sounds good.” He murmured, sounding a little tired. She sensed the conversation was drawing to a close. 
“Are you working on anything?” She asked politely. 
“I was thinking about it.” The other man shrugged indifferently. 
“I’m sure your fans would really enjoy it.”
“I’d be doing it for me.” 
The steely tone of his reply took her aback a little and she found herself recalling the news headlines in the days following the birth. “Even so…” She drifted off weakly and checked her watch before drawing her chair away from the table. “I’d better be going.” She murmured apologetically, getting to her feet. “It was really nice bumping into you.”
His eyes followed her as she gathered her belongings and extended the strap on the purse across her shoulder. “You too. Take care.”
“I will.” She smiled, tucking the chair neatly beneath the table and turning to leave. 
“Ara?” He called softly and she spun back. He was silent for a few seconds but she waited patiently. “Your friend Da-eun…” He seemed a little embarrassed. “You can give her my number.” Another pause. “If you like.”
It took her by surprise but she nodded in agreement. “I will.” She confirmed, giving a gentle wave. “Goodbye Tae.”
***
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