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#who was actually trying to help and promote their cause
pulsar-1919 · 1 year
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God, reading about and listening to podcasts about queer history it's disappointing to see that people have been infighting about the same shit for years
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literalgrill · 9 months
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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon
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You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.
The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.
I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:
Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨
We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.
However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.
A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.
Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.
Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad
i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…
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all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade
VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.
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I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.
It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.
Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.
I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.
It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.
So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo
I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol
To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo
One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol
Hunter R. Thompson:
I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it
The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.
I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.
Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]
Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.
Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.
The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:
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Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:
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Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.
Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.
Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.
Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.
Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?
Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.
Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?
Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.
Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:
It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation
aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.
Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...
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halfagone · 7 months
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One of the things I love the most about AUs where Danny moves to Gotham City is how easily he fits in. There are AUs where Danny makes a statement and gets noticed for the great guy he is and I enjoy those too, but I love the AUs where Danny fits in as if he's always been here. Where he doesn't stand out, doesn't make a statement.
There is something so quietly compelling about this transition in Danny's life. Danny has always stood out in a negative way. His parents are the town hacks, his sister is a genius that he'll never compare to. Friends who create rallies for their respective causes and actually makes people listen. Even amongst the outsiders, Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.
Danny likes Paulina because it's safe. Anyone would have a crush on the most popular girl in school. That's expected, that's normal. Of course he wants to be popular, what kid doesn't want to be popular?
The A-Listers stand out, not because they're particularly special, but because everyone else has set the standard that only they can reach. They present these kids as what every student should be, and everyone else is just failing to reach their level.
Danny has always striven for normalcy but the only way to achieve it is to fundamentally change who he is and he can't. No matter how hard he tries he can't be that person. He can try, and god has he tried, but he can't change who he is.
And then Danny moves to Gotham.
You can use all sorts of reasons for the move. Maybe this is a scenario where a reveal goes sideways and Danny has to flee. Maybe he has a bad breakup and he wants a fresh start. Maybe he's going to college out-of-state. Maybe he received a promotion at work and his boss wants him to manage the new Gotham branch.
No matter what reason you use, it all leads back to square one. Danny is in a city where he hardly knows anyone, but has heard all the horror stories for. The crime here is nothing like he's ever experienced before. At least with the ghosts, Danny knew they were coming thanks to his ghost sense. He doesn't always get the same courtesy with Arkham breakouts.
But he adapts. It's his specialty. He adapts to new powers and new enemies all the time, he can adapt here too. Human crime might not be his specialty but he knows how to protect himself. And for once he doesn't stand out for it.
Danny is paranoid and hypervigilant? Don't worry, most people here are. They have to be. Danny has scars on his knuckles from fighting ghosts? That's not the mark of a troublemaker, that's the mark of a survivor. Danny keeps a metal baseball bat by his front door? Okay, maybe that's a little strange; most people keep their weapons by their bed.
The point is that all these habits ingrained in Danny's psyche aren't out of place in Gotham. Here, no one thinks strangely of his behavior because they've all developed habits to help them survive. There is a different normal here in Gotham, a different standard, and for once Danny can reach it.
For once Danny is normal and he didn't have to change himself in any way to achieve it. It's proof that there was never anything wrong with him. He just didn't fit in with Amity Park anymore, but there is a place out there where he can.
Gotham City might not have been the home he grew up in, but it's accepted him more than the one he left behind. On the outside, this community might seem rough and harsh and brutal. But these people understand Danny better than anyone else could, because they know what it feels like to fight every day just to survive.
And I think there's something so cathartic about leaving one home, and all the fears that come with that, only to find a better one you never thought you could have.
I don't know. It's just so personal to me.
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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raindrops (an angel cried) (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: being assigned watching duties over humans was usually a task reserved for high level angels. on jeonghan's first week of promotion, he finds himself far too curious about licentious human activities, becoming infatuated with his assigned human. what happens when his interest goes too far, it gets him kicked out of heaven?
content: fallenangel!jeonghan, jeonghan is your guardian angel up until he gets kicked out of heaven oops, infatuation, inexperienced jeonghan, even as an angel he's still a menace to all, heaven is super strict, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 936 (teaser); 11.1k (full fic)
release date: may 17th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: angel!jeonghan was a must so here it is
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Who is that?", asked Jeonghan, apprehension in his eyes.
"That's your human."
"My human? I'm getting a promotion?"
"Listen, Jeonghan. I had to call in a lot of favors to get the higher ups to let you get this promotion. You better follow the rules to the letter. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Kwannie, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Why do you have so little trust in me?"
"I'm serious, Jeonghan. If you keep messing up, you might get kicked out of heaven. Do you really want to be down there with the humans? Being a mortal?"
Jeonghan couldn't help but think the idea sounded enticing.
He hadn't had too much exposure to humans thus far, but he had always had great interest in them. They just sounded so free and different from one another, unlike in heaven, where specific behavior was to be expected from every working angel.
Within heaven, you were either born as an elite sort of angel, – with all their angelic duties assigned – or you were born human and then admitted into heaven as an angel, getting to enjoy eternal happiness with your loved ones. Jeonghan, sadly, was the former. Having been born into an angel position, it meant that although his life was not miserable by any means, it was just a closed box of responsibilities to fulfill until the end of eternity. He truly envied all the humans-turned-angels in heaven, often asking them about their memories as humans and trying to live vicariously through them.
Due to his constant curiosity of humans, Jeonghan often got in trouble as he stuck his nose in places it shouldn't be. As an angelic being, Jeonghan's duties as an angel were mostly clerical, managing which human each angel would be assigned to as a guardian angel. Ever since being born as an angelic entity, Jeonghan's dream had been to be promoted into a guardian angel position. In his current job, the most interaction with humans he ever got was the ability to see a quick overview of their timelines in order to assess which guardian angel would be the best fit for them. His job was comfortable and stable, never causing him any trouble. But he wanted more. He wanted to be down there, on the playing field as he watched over his own human.
So he would cheat occasionally, maybe snooping into human's lives for more than he was allowed to. Sometimes he'd pause on certain bits that drew a little curiosity and simply observe. He'd also on occasion tried to make his way down to Earth, only to check things out on his own. All his attempts were always met with reprimands from his higher ups, claiming that a soul as curious as his own should not be near humans. The existence of angels was meant to stay a myth, after all.
When Seungkwan took him into one of the offices designated for guardian angels, Jeonghan had been shocked. He had been banned from being brought here a few years back, so it was a very well appreciated change of pace for him. What was even more shocking, however, was when Seungkwan led him into one of the sphere rooms, which contained a view of any and every human in existence in real time. The most shocking thing, though? The pretty girl reflecting on the globe, very deep in slumber as Seungkwan revealed Jeonghan's promotion.
"Her old guardian angel retired. Chose to move to the land of humans-turned-angels. Angel Jihoon was simply going to ask you to assign her a new angel, but I put in a good word for you, so he gave you the job. Don't fuck it up, Jeonghan. Do you understand?", his friend was quite stern as he warned him.
"Big words for an angel."
"Don't go puritanical on me, Jeonghan. Your behavior in Heaven doesn't matter. It's when you meddle with humans that you'll get in trouble. Just ... Please follow the rules and don't step out of line."
Seungkwan was right. From all the accounts he heard from angels who had died and gone to heaven, Heaven and Earth were quite similar. People held jobs, lived a day to day life, had relationships. There were a few stark differences, though. There was no suffering in Heaven – no illness, no tiredness, no debilitating feelings. Sure, frustration and annoyance were a thing (God knew Jeonghan had felt those things), but it was virtually impossible to be truly unhappy in Heaven.
Jeonghan had no problem with Heaven, he was just far too curious about humans to stay still and do nothing. He was not allowed to admit it, but he had always wanted to know what it'd be like to be human. To live through pain, struggle, confusion. He just wanted to experience it all.
Angels had no needs in heaven. Hunger didn't exist, neither did aging or an itch to do or feel things humans usually engaged in. For instance, while Jeonghan had heard of sex and romantic relationships, this was something that angels did not have the innate desire to feel, as they were born fulfilled in every sense. Human-born angels, however, brought their humanly experiences and emotions along with them to heaven, sometimes telling tales of such things, always drawing Jeonghan's curiosity to new heights.
Looking at you through the sphere, Jeonghan felt excitement at thinking of what humanly emotions you may be feeling. He also felt giddy at knowing that you would one day come to pass onto his heavenly realm, where he would meet you after having known you for the entirety of your lifetime.
...
read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3
NOTE: comment if u'd like to be tagged when it comes out<3 i wont respond to comments but if u reply ill tag u<3
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mythicmanuscripts · 2 months
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(I’m not sure if this counts as poor bdsm etiquette but if it does tell me so I can try and make it better)
Literally just thought about it but the brothel ladies using aegon as a sort of way to get their anger out as they cant do it on their other clients. Practically abusing him and degrading him so badly but he takes it cause they praise him after and he thinks it’s the only love he deserves. It’s sort of talked about in the brothels that if you need a way to release your anger aegons the one to do it on.
But then he meets his love and it all turns around and he realises how bad that treatment was and how much he deserves to be pampered like the pretty prince he is and be
Oh my god I love this!! So while this is absolutely what I had meant by bad BDSM etiquette, I realise I was a little too vague about it in the rules. I am more than happy to write anything in to do with characters having experienced bad BDSM etiquette in the past with someone else. What I won’t write it the reader having bad BDSM etiquette because don’t want that stop of thing promoted. As you all know, I have a weakness for angst and anything to do with bad relationships in the past really makes for some of the best angst. Apologies for the confusion there! I’ll update the rules to be clearer about it after I finish this.
Anyway, there is angsty sub!aegon below the cut but fear not, it ends happy :))
So there are two scenarios that I think this would work with. The first is just that Aegon went to the brothels until he let you and was shown how he deserves to be treated. The second is when you’re already married to Aegon and you two fell into something akin to a dom/sub relationship and Aegon craves full submission so badly but he bring himself to ask you about this because he’s so scared you’ll reject him and so instead he goes to brothels where they mistreat him and then you find out when he came to your quarters in. This ask seems to be hinting more towards the first one so that’s while be discussing here, but I’m happy to share some thoughts about the second idea and to hear your own thoughts about it so let me know!!
Anyway, on to this specific idea.
Firstly, as we all know Aegon is a bit of a slut, but only because he so desperately wants to please and be told he’s good. He enjoys the sex, sure, but there’s plenty to aspects of it that he doesn’t enjoy but he does even anyway because it means he’s doing something that someone actually likes, even if that someone is just a brothel worker he’s paid.
I think that Aegon would have originally gone to the brothel workers for affection and care and love but well… he can be a little pathetic. He can be very whiney and teary eyed and very very needy, just a weeping pathetic little thing who needs someone to care for him.
But when this side of him comes out with the brothel workers, they call him pathetic and laugh at him, because they’re not used to this kind of thing. Aegon freezes, but then the workers seem to enjoy humiliating him? So he just lets them, and he lets them push it further and further and further until eventually he’s gained the reputation of someone all the sex workers can abuse.
When it’s over, he always just crawls to them and tugs at their clothes, trying desperately to be allowed into their arms. Some of them let him, most of them don’t. But they do all say he did well, some even stroke his hair or wipe away his tears.
That’s what he comes for. That’s what he pays for, just that moment of praise.
Of course he always feels horrific when they leave, because no one ever gives him the proper aftercare he needs. Well actually, he doesn’t even know what’s what he needs. He just knows that even though he loves the praise and love, he feels awful once they leave?
Secretly he wishes they’d stay and help him recover. He wishes they’d wash his hair and kiss his forehead and let him cuddle into their arms, maybe even give him a soft hand job. But he never asks for that, because he’s too scared to see the rejection and disgust on their faces.
When he marries you, he doesn’t tell you about what he does at the brothels. He knows you know he goes to the brothels, but he’d never tell you what actually happens there because he’s so sure you’d refuse to give him an heir entirely.
I think maybe you’d start to see his submissive side when you try to be nice to him? He quite literally bursts into tears the first time you bring him a cup of warm milk for the kitchen the night after he told you he’d been having in trouble sleeping. And not small tears either, he’s literally sobbing into his cup of milk.
He starts to spend more and more time with you, because he realises how much he loves just talking to you? You make him feel all warm and safe and sometimes even loved, so he’s always following you and listening to your every word.
The first time you initiate sex, the first time it’s proper sex and not just trying for an heir, he basically melts into you? He’s just so pliant, and he’s so so so happy when you immediately start to lead him and direct him rather than trying to make him get back in control.
You weren’t planning on going as gently as you did, but then when he was laid out before you, you knew that gentleness was what was required. Cause he’s just… so open? He’s laying on his back, breathing hard and whining every time you touch him his crotch. He’s letting you play with him without even a word of protest, and so you promise yourself that you’ll keep him safe.
You ride him and you hold him when he cums and when Aegon realises you aren’t leaving immediately, it makes him cry again. You wipe his tears and kiss his head and tell him he was so good.
He goes stiff then and looks up at you, all teary eyed and confused.
“Good?” He asks, his voice so so soft, “but I…you didn’t hit me?”
You try to ask what he means by that but he’s far too out of it, so instead you end up just shushing him and cuddling him until he calms.
Once you start giving Aegon the pillow princess treatment, you can’t stop. He is just perfect for it. When he realises that you’ll never hurt him, he’s practically always free use for you. He gives over his entire body because he knows you’ll make him feel good.
Needless to say, he stops going to brothels.
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 7 months
Text
Another Chick in the Nest - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy (But Not Actually); Siblings Struggling to Share Attention; Light Angst; Light Crying; Use of "You," No "Y/N," No Set Description of Reader or OC Bradshaw! Children
Summary: You and Rooster underestimate how much your daughter Nicole is struggling with becoming an older sister.
Master List
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When you found out that you were expecting your second child, you and Rooster were ecstatic. It took longer the second time around to get pregnant, and so it felt all the more special when you finally got the news. The two of you were absolutely over the moon about having a second baby.
Your daughter, on the other hand, was not.
Nicole did not take to being a big sister quickly or happily. When you brought your second daughter, Caroline, home, Nicole did not enjoy being around her. Nicole always ran off whenever Caroline would start to cry and got territorial with you and Rooster whenever you spent an extended period of time around Caroline.
You and Rooster were concerned about your elder daughter, but you assumed that it would end. There was always an adjustment period with any new addition to a family. It would pass and Nicole would grow out of it quickly once she learned that just because she had a little sister, that didn’t mean that you and Rooster were replacing her.
But it all came to a head when Rooster, who Nicole normally had wrapped around her little finger, went to console a crying Caroline while putting Nicole to bed one night.
“Where are you going?” Nicole whined, turning to her dad.
“Your sister’s crying, honey. I’ll be right back,” Rooster promised, reaching for the door.
“No!” Nicole yelled loudly, causing you and Rooster to share a shocked look. “It’s my bedtime!”
“We know that, sweetie, but your sister needs some help because—”
“—But it’s my time,” Nicole complained, starting to sniffle before bursting out into tears. “You never spend time with me anymore!”
“Honey,” Rooster called softly, absolutely torn between his now two crying daughters.
You pulled Nicole to your chest, consoling her, and motioned for Rooster to run and quickly grab Caroline. Holding your eldest daughter close to your chest, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rocking her back and forth.
“Sweetheart, just because you have a sister now, that doesn’t mean that we love you any less,” you told Nicole, rubbing her back slowly as she continued to sob. “Your sister just needs some more attention because she’s a baby, that’s all.”
“But—it’s—my—time—now!” Nicole demanded between gasps of air and sobs.
“I know, honey, and I’m sorry about that,” you replied softly, looking up as Rooster entered Nicole's bedroom with a still crying Caroline in his arms.
With surprising smoothness, you and Rooster traded off daughters. You took Caroline into your arms and held her against your chest as Rooster gently pulled Nicole from your side. Picking her up and resting her head against his shoulder, Rooster sat down next to you and rubbed Nicole’s back as she continued to cry, burying her face deeper into his neck.
“Nikki, honey, you know that we love you so much, right? And nothing’s ever going to change that,” Rooster told your eldest daughter.  
“Then why don’t you spend any time with me anymore?” Nicole whimpered, causing Rooster to rest his head on top of her own, in a bid to try and hide his expression from her.
“Because . . .” Rooster began, trying to come up with something.
In reality, the both of you had been swamped lately. Between Caroline being born and Rooster getting a promotion at work, there had barely been any free time in your lives. Hell, even you and Rooster had talked about how your own relationship had taken a hit with the current busyness.
But the two of you signed up for another baby and Rooster’s job. Nicole didn’t.
Sharing a look, you and Rooster had a silent conversation as the two of you tried to comfort your daughters. Caroline fell asleep first and Nicole followed her after Rooster climbed into bed with her for a few minutes. Tucking both of your daughters into their separate beds, you and Rooster went back to your bedroom together.
“We need to do something for Nikki,” Rooster spoked softly, looking on the edge of tears himself.
“I didn’t realize that she was that upset about it,” you murmured, holding a hand to your head. “We need to fix this.”
“ASAP,” Rooster agreed, nodding quickly.
~~~~~
The next weekend that Rooster had off, the two of you got the girls dressed and into the car early in the morning. Caroline was already up early, but Nicole quickly fell back to sleep as soon as Rooster strapped her into her car seat. Driving across town to Maverick and Penny’s house, you and Rooster cracked the windows for Nicole and got Caroline and her bag out.
“Thank you for watching her,” Rooster told Maverick.
“Any time,” Maverick assured Rooster, taking Caroline’s carrier.
“I just fed her twenty minutes ago, so she should be fine for a few more hours,” you stated, handing over the baby bag to Penny. “There’s plenty of milk in the cooler, but you have the key to our house if you need any more.”
“We’ve got it handled,” Penny promised you and Rooster.
“Now, get on the road before the traffic gets too bad.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rooster replied jokingly, mockingly saluting Maverick.
~~~~~
Nikki slowly started to wake up while Rooster was still driving to your surprise destination. She rubbed her eyes dramatically and looking around the car. And the first thing that she noticed was the fact that her little sister’s baby carrier was gone.
“Where’s Sissy?” Nicole asked, blinking with confusion.
“Oh, she’s staying with Grandpa Mav for the day,” you responded, smiling back at your daughter. “How did you sleep, baby?” 
“Good,” Nicole replied softly, sitting up and looking out the window. “Where are we?”
“We’re about twenty minutes away from a surprise,” Rooster stated, glancing back at Nikki through the rearview mirror.
“A surprise?” Nicole asked. She frowned. “It’s not my birthday.”
“No, it’s not your birthday, honey,” you laughed, turning around. "But we wanted to spend some more time with you. Is that alright?"
"Yeah," Nikki replied after a moment of deliberation, causing you and Rooster to share a laugh.
~~~~~
Nicole kicked her little feet excitedly as Rooster carried her towards the entrance to the zoo. After you were scanned in, Nikki was fully emersed in the moment. Getting down from Rooster's arm, Nikki grabbed his hand and started to drag him around the place.
"Do you want to feed the giraffes?" Rooster asked, causing Nicole to grin and nod.
You stepped back to take a video of the moment as your daughter and Rooster stood by the gate. The zookeeper offered your daughter some vegetables to offer to the giraffes and Nikki was practically bouncing with excitement. Up until the actual giraffes started to try and grab the food from her, that is.
"Daddy!" Nikki screeched, clinging to Rooster like she was worried that the giraffe would pick her up. Rooster laughed and took the food from her hand to offer to the giraffes.
"They just want the food, that's all," Rooster tried to coax your daughter, but she continued to hold onto him with a death grip. You would have needed a full team to pull her off of him.
"I think that's the last time we do that," you mused, sharing a look with your husband.
"I thought it was fun."
"You're just happy that she's refusing to let go of you," you corrected him, shaking your head at your husband.
After a brief safari ride, the three of you made it to the bird section of the zoo. Nikki was mostly fascinated by the penguins and probably would have spent the whole afternoon there if you and Rooster hadn't pulled her away.
"They can't even fly," Rooster jokingly argued with your daughter, who turned to him with an offended expression.
"They can fly better than you!" Nikki snapped back.
"You just got burned by a four-year-old. You've lost your touch, Bradshaw," you teased your husband, bumping him with your hip.
"You'll pay for that later," Rooster teased Nikki, who stared up at him defiantly with her arms crossed over her chest. Turning to you, he added with a wink, "And you will too."
"Happy to, Commander," you replied with a small smirk. Turning to your daughter, you offered Nikki your hand. "Now, let's get some lunch. And then some ice cream."
~~~~~
Rooster carried Nikki out of the park as she slept against his chest while you carried her little souvenir.  He placed her carefully into her car seat, buckled her in, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before shutting the door.
You stopped to grab Caroline from Maverick and Penny before heading home. You fed Caroline and changed her diaper before putting her down for the night. Walking across the hall to Nicole’s room, you stood in the doorway and smiled as you watched Rooster gently put Nikki to bed.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "We love you."
You walked over and gave her a kiss goodnight and Rooster did the same with Caroline before the two of you returned to your bedroom. You took a quick shared shower and cuddled up in bed together, before falling into a deep sleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow.
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charmercharm3r · 1 year
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YOU WILL WRITE THIS
SO IMAGING ABT how your a 9th skz member (who always wears baggy street wear or just the really cutsie member who does aegyo and isnt rlly sexual and lit has never showed any skin )and you all go boxing for fun - you decide to wear a baggy white shirt and a white bra under it and once you arrive to the gym your acc really good at boxing like your sweatiinggg and its showing your skin and clinging onto u - thowing jabs at minho like your life DEPENDS ON IT!! the members admire you from the side of the ring with a good view; after that tiring session you or your member dump water on you to quench your thirst but end up dumping wayy more than intended which causes you all to laugh but iykyk white clothes + water = see through jit going thru your shirt and kinda your bra so the members are just staring at your bare boobs (you can also write the baddie moment where you take off your shirt bc your agitated at it clinging onto ur skin)
i’m such a sucker for 9th member fics
Masterlist
warning: gn!reader, 9th member, suggestive
next: two
☆゚
“That’s it, Y/N’ie! Now I can actually feel your punches. Put a little more weight behind it.”
Minho had you dancing around the elevated boxing ring like it was rehearsed. Your couldn’t feel your hands or arms anymore from how long you’d been chasing him in circles to hit the padded target he always held just a little out of reach. Honestly, sports weren’t really your thing, dancing was the only thing you truly tried to do well in front of and behind the cameras. You had no idea what possessed you to tag along with Minho to his boxing session.
The news of your outing traveled fast within the group and before you knew it, everyone was piling into the two cars together. Minho and Chan had been giving you pointers the whole car ride and even tried to show you how to wrap the bandage around your wrist for support until you shooed them away and told them to stop hovering.
Felix was giggling watching the whole preparation take place, only when he said your full name did you realize he was narrating with a mini vlogging camera pointed your way.
Maybe promotions and practices and life in general were starting to take an emotional toll on you, every ounce of your frustrations from the week you took it out on Minho.
You couldn’t feel your feet now, too. The numbness let you move a little faster, only able to feel the sweat dripping down your temple and chest. As you picked up the pace and threw your punches harder, Minho stumbled slightly from the sudden burst of energy. You couldn’t hear the other members whooping and cheering your name, all focus pinpointed on the black target.
Harder, quicker, more than enough weight behind the punches that forced Minho to misstep and trip into the rope. The others rushed to hold their hands out in case he slipped through them, while also torn between being in awe or laughing at the older boy literally falling for you.
You tried to catch your breath and aggravatedly unwrapped the boxing glove from your hand as Minho stood and looked at you with surprise.
“Was that enough weight?!” You huffed, throwing the glove at him with almost no power now that you expended most of it trying to hit the target.
Giggling from the side of the ring made your head snap in its direction, “you want some, too, Kim Seungmin? I’ll come down there and—“
Just as you were about to throw the other glove at him, Changbin stepped into the ring and stole it from you, physically picking you up and waltzing you backwards with your rubbery limbs not putting up much of a fight. “You can beat him up later. Drink water first, you sweat like a fucking fountain.”
“Y/N’ie!” Felix and Hyunjin ran around to help you out of the ring, water bottles at the ready. You let Hyunjin tip your chin up and place the open bottle to your lips, it was gone in under a minute. “Slow down, you’ll drown,” he chuckled.
“Lix, you’re staring again,” Changbin threw his hand over his eyes until he realized what the younger was ogling.
The baggy white shirt you’d worn was completely soaked and sticking to your body like a second skin, showing through the sports bra that kept you safe. You were never one to show much skin at all, but right now, you didn’t have the energy to care. In fact, it was suddenly feeling suffocating. When you started to strip away the drenched shirt was when the rest of the members made their way over to you, all with mouths dropped slightly at the view of their adorable member suddenly shining in a new light.
“Hyung, maybe you should get Y/N’ie mad more often,” Jeongin whispered to Minho, who had a stupidly smug smirk on his face.
“I’ll take—“ huff, “—every one—“ puff, “of you fuc—“
“Hey now! No swearing in my vlog!” Felix rushed to stop you mid sentence.
“But they’re cute when they’re mad! Look,” Jisung pinched your cheek lightly and you frowned, raising your fist, “oh, so scary!” He feigned fright and stepped back with his hands up in surrender.
“You looked really cool, though. Who knew you could actually do physical activity!” Seungmin patted you on the back a little too harshly and you slumped forward with a wince.
“I hate all of you.”
“You love us!” Chan rung out your wet shirt and all of you stopped to watch how much of it was squeezed onto the floor. “That’s disgusting.”
Felix laughed menacingly and turned the camera towards himself, “I think Y/N’ie needs a shower.”
The eight of them made eye contact and smiled deviously. You spotted the bottles of water they each had and moved a second too late. Minho grabbed you by the waist before you could run, and suddenly you were being blinded by water running down your face and getting covered from head to toe. Minho was nice enough to wipe your strayed hair from your eyes so you could see the glee in your member’s eyes as if they’d accomplished an important task.
“Are you cooled off now?” Minho asked, peaking over your shoulder and brushing more hair from your cheek.
“Ice cold.”
“Oh, they’re definitely mad at us!” Felix kept laughing along with Hyunjin and Jisung.
“You all owe me one meal each. Dessert included.”
“I’ll even throw in a dry towel.” Chan handed you a itty bitty hand towel that you snatched away.
You patted down your exposed skin starting with your arms, your face, and when you got to your neck and chest was when you realized they’d all gone quiet. “Have none of you seen a chest before?! Virgins, all of you.”
None of them moved, unabashedly and unashamed that they were still staring.
“It’s just—“ Hyunjin said softly and pointed at your chest again. You looked down to see your nipples hard, and you lost any patience you had left.
There was almost no force behind your fists slamming into his chest, but Hyunjin cowered away and pretended to be hurt just for sympathy’s sake. Minho cheered you on while Chan was pulling out a spare shirt from his gym bag, sneakily slipping it onto you as your adrenaline drained back down to zero.
“Two. Meals. Each. And I’ll be keeping track.” You breathed heavily, finally giving up on being upset.
“Dessert included,” they repeated back.
When you’d finally calmed down, Felix threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you in close, “how was your first time boxing with Minho hyung? Care to share with sunshine vlog?”
“Next time, it’ll be you and me in that ring, Lixie.” You cheerfully threaded with a tap of your finger to the tip of his nose and smiled.
The seven of them trailed behind you as you leaned on Felix for some support. Not even an ounce of annoyance left in you, the sleep was wanting to take over before you could make it to the car. You climbed into the back seat and made yourself comfortable before the rest of them could file in, careful not to raise their voices too loud. You could tell it was Changbin next to you just by the smell of his cologne, still strongly lasting after a decent work out.
Entirely passed out, you didn’t get to hear Felix end his vlog with, “look how cute they are, already asleep. Stay, shhh, don’t tell Y/N’ie that Minho hyung only tripped cus his shoe was untied. See you next time!”
-
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year
Text
"If you need to be mean"
Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)
Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3
Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
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König hates this fucking country.
Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out. 
He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports. 
Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers. 
Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can. 
— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report. 
Gut. 
A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t. 
Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.
— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it? 
— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew. 
And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think. 
— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…
Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now. 
Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels. 
König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…
Wait a minute. 
He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander. 
— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?
He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body. 
The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person. 
— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry. 
You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies. 
— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late? 
Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty. 
You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.
— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise. 
Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself. 
— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger. 
— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently. 
Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…
He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm. 
— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew. 
You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness. 
— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise. 
You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…
— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.
He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets. 
You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply. 
— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really. 
— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous. 
You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed. 
You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t. 
— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir. 
— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.
— Sorry?
It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.
— Just show the way. 
He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him. 
He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him. 
König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather. 
He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years. 
— You’re local.
It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.
— Lived here all my life, sir. 
You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him. 
— Where do you work? 
It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared. 
— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment. 
You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers. 
— Hm. 
König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…
— We might need someone local to help with operations. 
Nailed it. Right? 
— Wh…what do you mean, sir? 
You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…
— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here. 
He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder. 
— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job. 
Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him. 
— Are you sure?
You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country? 
— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job. 
He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course. 
The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole. 
— You live here? 
— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry. 
— No. 
— What do you mean “No”?
Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again. 
You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want. 
— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live. 
Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this. 
— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage. 
— Don’t you have another place to sleep? 
He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead. 
— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates. 
He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent. 
He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely. 
— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you. 
— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir. 
Oh, but he wants to. 
Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life. 
He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else. 
— We’ll meet again. 
You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time. 
2K notes · View notes
munsonslove · 1 year
Text
Five Times (part one: 1-3)
(18+ only)
summary: A stressful day at work leads to Eddie promising to make you cum over and over until your head is empty.
wordcount: 4.7k
tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, established relationship, smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, choking, spitting in mouth, hair pulling, biting, squirting, overstim, dacryphilia, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), he’s kinda mean in this but like in a you want him to be a lil mean to you way not like he’s an actual asshole way
a/n: listen. i’ve had a very stressful year and the idea of just being allowed to be dumb and not have to worry about anything is very appealing. part 2 with more smut to come...
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Today marked the one month anniversary since your (well deserved) promotion. You could finally say with confidence that your career was more than just taking notes and getting coffee for those in higher up positions. Still, this growth came with hard work, late nights, stress, and snide remarks from the men at the office who chalked your success up to low cut shirts worn around the boss. Which is ridiculous cause you’re not even sure that man had ever seen your clavicle, much less any cleavage.
Thankfully, this stress subsided by your wonderful relationship. Although Eddie loved and respected you, he knew that sometimes the responsibilities of adult life weighed on you like a million tons. He genuinely thought you were one of the smartest and most impressive people he’s ever met, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you what you needed. And what you needed was an escape from the overthinking and worrying- permission to turn your brain off and give yourself over to pleasure. 
There was a tell you subconsciously gave when your psyche craved that escape: when you pass through the entranceway of your shared home and Eddie comes to welcome you at the door, instead of greeting him with a smile and hug, you simply keep your arms limp at your sides as you collapse into him and bury your face in his neck.
That’s precisely how your arrival happened this evening, and Eddie wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you as he tenderly kissed your temple and led you to the bedroom. Along the way, he spoke no words as he helped you strip yourself of the restricting uniform of your day to day life. Heels are abandoned at the front door, a few feet from them a discarded blazer, then a little farther down the hallway was a crumpled pile of nylon that was once stockings. 
Now inside the room, Eddie sat you down on the edge of the mattress as his nimble fingers undid the buttons of your blouse and unhooked your slightly-too-tight underwire bra. Once your top half was completely bare, you laid back and lifted your hips up so that he could slide your skirt and panties down your legs in one quick motion.
As you settled into bed and got comfortable, Eddie tossed the worn clothes to the side and looked down at you with dark eyes. After flashing a crooked grin, he climbed onto the bed and rested on his knees. Kneeling before you, he starts laughing quietly.
“Well, well, well,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “Look at this pretty little prize I have all to myself.”
He didn’t permit any talking yet, so you remain silent. Instead, you laid there in anticipation while waiting impatiently for his next move. His calloused fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as he trails them from your belly button to your waist. When they reach the end of their journey, his hands suddenly grip with determination as he moves you how he pleases. Your body is pliant and powerless while he arranges you the way he needs you to be, something that he is glaringly proud about.
“You’re tired of pretending, aren’t you? Pretending you’re not my mindless little doll?” he murmurs with a smirk, and your thighs instinctively twitch to shut from the wave of arousal his tone sends through you. “Well, I doubt I could fuck the stupid out of you, but I can try.”
His assured, unwavering certainty was soul shattering. What once was hesitant enthusiasm is now teetering on full blown alarm when memories flood your brain of your doting boyfriend nearly bruising your pelvis from the valor he exhibited in washing away your bad days with orgasms. That turning in your stomach only heightened your senses, pulling feeble whimpers out of you with embarrassingly minimal contact. 
“My pretty girl,” he tutted with a mischievous lilt. “Need me to turn that brain off, huh? How about you let me play with you?”
You nod in response as the butterflies in your stomach turn violent and almost make you feel sick. Finally, all thoughts of whether or not paperwork was filled out correctly and filed in the right places are gone, and the only thing you can think of is Eddie’s burning hot touch on your skin.
“Wha’sa matter? Can’t use your big girl words?” he asks, slurring a bit as the lust clouds his senses. “That’s alright, I’ll do all the talking. Just focus on turning off that brain,” his voice is now growing low and raspy, and you feel his fingers twitching on your waist as he resists the itch to touch you. “That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Being my sweet, dumb girl. The only thing you’re good at is being a drooly little mess for me.”
What he’s saying should be demeaning, but it only makes you more turned on. His grip loosens as his fingernails scratch their way down toward your center. When he reaches your mound, just above your slickened lips, he slows down. Obviously, he wants to make you desperate enough that he can watch you squirm.
“Nnngh,” you whine, exasperated. “Eddie, please…”
“Needy fucking slut,” he chastises, but his eyes reveal more amusement than authority. He has to hold back the huff of laughter that threatens its way up his throat as he continues. “You’re gonna wait like the good girl I know you are. You wanna know how I know?”
Your eyebrows pinch together as you try to not cry from the frustration, and you make a small humming noise while shrugging your shoulders.
“Because,” he starts as his fingers finally make contact with your aching cunt. They slide easily along your folds, causing a choked gasp in reaction from you. “Only good girls have wet pussies like this. That’s my proof- good girls have wet, dripping pussies. And you’re always dripping for me, aren’t you, princess?”
“Mhm,” you agree as your legs open wider. The amount of concentration it takes to not buck your hips into his touch is overwhelming, but you manage to bear it. “Oh, please Eds. Need it so bad.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” he cooed patronizingly, leaving one short peck between your furrowed brows. “But do you deserve it?”
Your toes are starting to cramp by the force they’re curling in with. “I- I think I-“
“You don’t think, you obey,” he corrects sternly, cutting off your stuttering. “You’re a brainless toy for me to use, don’t you know that?”
“Yes, yes I know,” you moan while nodding your head harder, hoping that your compliance will make him want to speed up his process.
Your plan succeeds, but not as much as you’d ideally hope. Eddie’s curious touches migrate from skimming up and down your slit to rubbing at the very top, effectively granting your clit just enough pressure to have you wanting more. A few stray tears fall from their ducts out of relief, and velvet soft lips wipe the moisture away before you even detected it. The rough pad of his middle finger glides smoothly around the bud thanks to your wetness- pushing it up, down, and side to side with ease. His other hand is pressed flat against the inside of your thigh, both holding your legs open and occasionally caressing comfortingly.
“This cute little button needed some attention, did it? Are you happy now? Done being a whiny fucking brat?” he asks, chuckling mockingly. You’re writhing and sighing, almost too distracted to respond, but you do manage to nod your head. Eddie’s not satisfied with your wordless answer.
“Getting dumber already?” he goes on to add, and his hand freezes between your legs. “I asked you a question, silly girl.” Though trying to portray total control, you can tell he’s suppressing a smile.
“Y- yes!” you supply shakily, your stutter making your panic apparent. “I’m s- sorry. I’m done being a br- brat.”
Eddie tsks three times, as if scolding a pet. The implication of that has you shuddering once again. His hand continues its ministrations. “And what do we say, hmm?”
“Thank you!” you gasp out as his pressure and speed both increase. “Oh, thank you.” Your calves tremble, despite how still you’re trying to keep them. 
“God, look how messy this little hole is for me. She’s fucking begging for my fingers. I think she’s gonna cum real fast, how ‘bout you?” he asks, his eyes glazing over as he languidly strokes your sensitive clit. “Stay still now, baby.”
But it’s impossible to not squirm as Eddie pinches and rolls the nub between his fingers. He’s ruthless and tooth-rottingly sweet all at once. You wriggle in his hold, your muscles jerking of their own accord, rutting your hips into his expert touch. Weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, forcing you to still- per his previous instructions.
“I know, princess, I know,” he comforts. “It’s hard to follow orders when your brain is so empty. Just keep those pretty eyes on me. You can at least do that, can’t you?”
You fight to not let your heavy eyelids flutter shut. It’s a struggle, but Eddie’s eyes being laser focused on yours makes it slightly easier. As he continues rubbing your clit so perfectly, his other hand moves to cradle your jaw. His thick thumb frees your bottom lip from where it was trapped between your teeth, and breaks the barrier into your more than willing mouth. He presses down on your tongue, just far back enough to slightly trigger your gag reflex but careful to not cause too much discomfort. Then his hand retreats, breaking the trance that had you fixated on his hypnotic gaze. 
You whimper a weak protest as your tongue extends over your chin and attempts to follow his fingers. This effort brings your head a couple inches off the pillow, only to have it slammed back down when he unexpectedly grabs your throat. The cool metal of his rings are a stark contrast to your heated skin. With his palm now pushing into your windpipe, you let out a puff of air in shock and wrap your hands around his wrists. 
“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t breathe?” he asks, but the way he says it suggests that he doesn’t actually care. He’s clearly enjoying the way you’re currently clawing at his forearm.
You try to plead for mercy, but can’t find the power to form a sentence beyond weak gasps for air. All you can do is try to blink away the blur in your vision as your head gets hazier and hazier.
He responds with a merciless laugh, then loosens his grip just enough to allow oxygen to enter your lungs once more before leaning forward and spitting into your still open mouth without warning. The force of it hits your tongue and causes his spit to splatter onto the roof of your mouth. You can’t help the volume of the broken moan that involuntarily leaves you. You also can’t help the way your hips buck up- making his fingers slip from your clit, which only turns your satisfied groan into a distressed whine.
“Poor thing,” he hums while putting on a faux-sympathetic pout, his lower lip jutting out sarcastically and his eyebrows upturning. 
He leans down to gently kiss your cheek, so light and quick that you barely even feel it. All you can focus on is his weight on top of you, chest pressed to yours with his arm wedged in between so that he can continue lazily toying with your clit, much to your relief. Eddie’s nose trails along your cheekbone until his hot, humid breath is tickling your ear. Lips move against your earlobe as he whispers his next words.
“Do you even realize how fucking pathetic you look right now?” he asks. “You probably don’t care though. Too much of a desperate fucking slut. Say it.”
“I’m a desperate slut,” you immediately comply.
The hand being used to lightly choke you breaks contact for a moment, only long enough for Eddie to push himself up onto his knees, before returning to its place on your neck. From there, he can comfortably look down at you while he continues to squeeze your neck and bring you closer to orgasm.
He grins at you like he’s proud, eyes wet and sentimental. It almost sounds loving the way he says, “That’s right. My desperate slut.”
Everything’s gone fuzzy. Any outside stimulant other than the man on top of you can’t reach your senses. It was like the two of you were covered in a heavy blanket, instead of being in the cool open air of your shared bedroom. The rest of the world felt so distant- a million miles away- that you couldn’t even remember any of the stresses that were previously bothering you. The pressure Eddie is applying to your throat isn’t tight enough to drastically affect your airflow anymore, so he and you both know that this is just the natural effect he has on you.
“Are you there so soon? I’ve already rubbed your mind away?” He sounds almost disappointed as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “We just started. Why do you have to be such a greedy whore?”
You know he’s just playing into his role. You know he doesn’t really mean it, and that he’s only trying to help ease you more into the headspace you crave so badly. But still, you feel the overwhelming urge to do whatever it takes for him to call you a good girl.
“I’m sorry. I can hold it,” you try to assure, without being entirely sure that it’s the truth. The tightness in your stomach is growing at an alarming rate.
“Don’t bother,” he tells you, sarcastically exaggerating a bored sigh. “What, you didn’t think I was gonna let you off that easy, did you? Surely even you aren’t that dumb.” His face leans dangerously close to yours as he emphasizes that last ‘you’, and his voice turns low and threatening. “I’m gonna make you cum a minimum of five times tonight, might as well get one over with now.”
And with that guarantee, you feel the dam break. He never even got around to fingering you, but you had a suspicion that that was next on the list. Rough kneading at your breast and lips once again attaching themself to your pulse point is what tipped you off that he had finally released your throat. Your head was thrown back- giving his mouth easy access- and your knees bent as your thighs squeezed together tight, trapping him there. Though, the quiet sound of your breathy moans and beauty of your scrunched up face made him want to stay there forever, so he personally wouldn’t describe it as ‘trapped’. 
“Good girl,” he growls, sounding crazed and cruel. “Look so cute like this. Sound so cute too. Like a fucking pathetic slut.”
His left hand began pinching at your nipples while the right’s movement on your clit remained throughout the duration of your climax, not ending until teary begging for him to stop alerted him to your overstimulation. He decided to allow you a moment to breathe, but only briefly. As your chest rises and deflates rapidly, your earlier suspicion proved true. Eddie’s vow of at least five orgasms was no empty promise, it was an oath. His middle finger slid eagerly down your puffy lips until reaching your entrance, where you promptly stopped him.
“Eddie, wait!” you exclaim, pushing his still determined hands away and attempting to cover your mound with your own. “I can’t cum again so soon!”
He outright scoffs at that, finally tearing his attention away from the area you’re pointlessly failing to defend to stare at you incredulously. “Now princess, we both know that’s not true. Who are you trying to fool?”
To an outsider this might seem mean, but you know that one utterance of your safeword would have Eddie’s dominance melting away in an instant. Truthfully, his dedication to ruin you with a second orgasm so closely followed by the first only excited you more- something that is no secret to him. You were still nervous about what he was going to do to you though, and this was made apparent from the way you crossed one ankle over the other- effectively shielding yourself from his touch.
“Aw, is someone shy?” he asked, feigning sympathy. You nod, but it’s ineffective at changing his mind. “I don’t care. Spread your legs.”
You didn’t set out to follow his order so willingly. His brash way of speaking had your body moving without any input from your brain, shifting each ankle to opposite sides of the mattress and baring yourself to him unabashedly despite your inner modesty.
“You’re mean,” you complained with an exaggerated frown, downplaying the rush of wanting that soared through you.
“Yeah?” he snickered as his hand returned to its spot between your legs, coating the slick from your previous orgasm on his fingers before forcing them deep inside you all at once. “Well you’re wet.”
Without warning, the two middle fingers of his right hand bury themselves to the hilt before curling upward, expertly finding their favorite spot inside you within seconds. The small band on his ring finger pushed past the threshold of your opening, entering into you. It was insultingly obvious the way you could differentiate the cool, smooth metal from his warm, rough skin. You could even feel the ridge where bare skin now became shielded by silver jewelry. That bump and the sensations it caused on your sensitive inner walls were so addicting. The intensity was almost too much to brave, but after all this time you trusted Eddie to know your limits even better than you did. 
His free hand finds purchase on your waist, holding firmly as if to silently instruct you to stay still. Whispered curses slip through your gritted teeth, and they only slightly assist you in enduring the direct targeting of your g-spot. While you couldn’t see his expression, you had a feeling the sight of you wiping away the water pooling at your eyes was only stirring Eddie more.
“Keep crying,” he says, trying to sound intimidating but unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. “Not that it’ll get you anywhere, but you look real pretty crying under me.”
“Please, please I wanna-“ you start, only to be interrupted by your own abrupt gasp when he begins moving. He’s pumping in and out of you at a pace that- while not slow- he’s well aware won’t be enough.
“Christ, do you hear yourself? ‘P-p-p-please,” he mocks, mimicking your expression. His condescending tone lacked any compassion, despite the grin that betrayed his features afterwards.
“Please, Eddie,” you try again, hoping that he’ll hear your overwhelming lust and take pity. “I wanna cum on your cock.”
“Oh? What happened to ‘I can’t cum again’, hm?” he asks. He does seem to feel a little sorry for his teasing, however, seeing as he hastens to what he’s discovered in the past to be the perfect tempo for you. “You’ll get my cock when I say you can have my cock and you’ll be grateful.”
All you’re able to do is nod in agreement, being far too weakened to fight back anymore. Eddie’s perfect aim has his fingers finding your g-spot with each forward lunge of his arm, and it’s barreling you toward another orgasm far too quickly. The muscles in your neck move involuntarily, and you steal one last glance at your lover before your head is thrown back completely. He’s watching you, eyes wide with adoration- which would fill your heart if past experiences didn’t tell you that meant for a very long night (and a very sore morning). 
The crown of your skull is flat on the pillow beneath your head as a long guttural groan escapes from somewhere deep within. Your fated second climax of the night shows no remorse, stealing all the breath from your lungs and leaving your legs shaking. Eddie also lacks remorse, his fingers never losing speed as your walls clench around them. Arousal gushed over his hand and onto the sheets, leaving a sticky mess that you were too gone to care about. His comforting touch settles over your spasming diaphragm in an halfhearted attempt to help calm you after you start to thrash, but the way he drags your orgasm out with quite a few more thrusts than necessary proves how much he is enjoying this.
“There you go, princess,” he purrs. “Feel all of it, you deserve it.”
It was like your body had become too tight, cramping your stomach from the strong contractions. Simultaneously, it was also as if you were exploding out of your goosebump-littered skin. While somewhat sensing the strain of your vocal chords, you couldn't recognize the voice echoing profanity throughout the room. All you could manage to focus on was the sound of Eddie coaxing you through your comedown, his usual baritone barely audible as he shushed you and stroked your hair.
“Catch your breath baby, nice and slow. We’re not done yet,” he murmured softly, the devious glint in his eyes returning when his promise sent an obvious shiver down your spine.
“Such a good little slut,” he praised, “Probably have no idea how fucking hard you’re making me right now. Don’t have much ideas about anything, really, other than how bad you wanna be fucked stupid.”
“So bad,” you agreed, barely able to comprehend what was being said to you. “So, so bad.”
Confusion floods you when he rolls his eyes at your response. There’s a quiet muttering coming from his moving lips, something sounding like ‘... -proving my point,’ but you’re too caught up in the way he closes the distance between his and your mouths.
Time stills as you allow his kiss to absorb you and melt your mind. You’re not sure exactly how long it took until he determined that you were ready for more, but you suspected that he was purposely granting you time to recover before enacting his next course of action (ever the gentleman no matter how inexplicably turned on him disrespecting you made you feel). He kissed you breathless until that ache in your bones returned, the need for him coming back in full force. After what could have been minutes or hours, Eddie parted from your still desperate body.
He pushed himself off of you leisurely before positioning you horizontally across the bed. Hands sank into the dip of your waist, seizing both sides of your torso and dragging your pelvis to the very edge of the mattress. Then, he fell to his knees on the carpet and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrap around from the underside of your thighs, holding them in place and leaving no room for resistance. Now that he had you exactly how he wanted you, he mouthed at the delicate skin of your inner thighs- gentle nips and kisses to the left before switching and unexpectedly biting down on the flesh of the right. You yelp at the unexpected sting, and though he was careful not to draw blood, there will surely be a darkened mark replicating the shape of his canines there the next day.
“Is my girl ready for number three?” he asks, smiling up at you looking entirely too sure of himself, yet somehow remaining endearing. “Gonna drain what little is left inside that pretty head. Gonna make you lose some IQ points.”
You’re now completely engulfed in euphoria, the natural high from an overproduction of hormones in your brain is incomparable to any substance you’ve sampled before. While still distracted trying to control your smiling in this loopy state, Eddie takes the opportunity to catch you by surprise. He licks a long stripe up your glistening sex, spanning from your leaking hole to your swollen clit.
Ditzy giggles are interrupted by a choked gasp, and the bed sheets loosen from the corners when your hands grasp at them and pull. This reaction produces a smirk from the man between your legs. You feel his lips stretch wide, the movement slightly lifting your clitoral hood and allowing access for his teeth to scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath. It’s too much, and you instinctively try to scoot backwards, only to be reminded that he’s holding you in place. Though obviously aware of your attempts to escape his busy mouth, he shows no signal that he plans to ease up. 
His technique shifts from long flat licks into stiffening the very tip of his tongue and flicking it back and forth over your clit. He keeps this up until you’re squirming under him, only to relax his tongue once more and allow the muscle to melt against your center. It’s messy and uncalculated, and you can feel his drool dripping down over your ass and wetting the sheets even more. You’re not surprised the simple act of eating you out has Eddie salivating, he’s been obsessed with getting his mouth on you whenever possible since the beginning of your relationship. In fact, for those first few months, it was pretty much a guarantee that he would cum in his pants like a teenager anytime he gave you head.
Like a psychic, Eddie moves away from your clit right as the build up begins. But before you can whine any complaints, he starts fucking his tongue in and out of your hole. When you look down at him through hooded eyes you’re almost shocked at the sight of him completely engrossed in your pussy, his cheeks covered in your wetness with eyes screwed shut. The underside of his nose and his chin press harshly against you as he tries to push his tongue out as far as it’ll go.
He’s moaning into you, clearly enjoying the taste. For a brief moment you feel slightly jealous, wishing to have him in your mouth as well. You forget all envy, however, when he pushes further into you and shakes his head left to right, the vibrations from his moans present as ever.
The force with which his fingers dig into your flesh is sure to bruise the fat of your thighs, but you don’t notice the burn it’s causing until after being released. He looks up at you through his lashes and you watch as his tongue leaves your hole. With a devilish glare, he spits harshly directly on your clit before returning to licking and sucking it, the entire time his eyes never moving from your face. One arm unwraps itself from around your thigh so that he can extend out his pointer and middle fingers before plunging them into you. The other hand disappears to where your eyes can’t follow- but given how his moans picked up in ferocity, you were certain about what he was doing. Not only did his palming of himself make him louder, but it had his tongue pulsating against you and shoving you further over the edge to your orgasm. 
All hope of lasting longer was lost when he curled his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, forgoing fucking them in and out to instead massage the spongy spot inside you. This, coupled with the way his lips were now focused on suckling your clit, had you tugging at his curls while you yelled out in pleasure.
This many orgasms so quickly after one another was slightly painful, but in a confusing way that only made you crave him inside you even more. Using your grip on his hair to yank him off of you, you sit up to see him on his knees with a crazed look in his eyes. His entire lower face from his nose down was glistening with the combination of your cum and his drool, and the sheets beneath where you sat didn’t feel any dryer.
“God, baby,” he groans, his voice completely wrecked with lust, “please tell me you don’t need a minute, cause I’m about to bust right now.”
Now that you’re not laying down, you’re able to peer over the edge of the mattress and see his hand at work, rubbing harshly over the zipper of his jeans to try and offer any sense of relief.
“I’m ready, Eds,” you pant out while nodding, still needing to catch your breath.
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redstarwriting · 1 year
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the clash | ii. time bomb
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 1.5k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, y’all almost fight twice lmao
a/n: felt bad only posting the first chapter, so here’s the second one as well! i’ll get the third one out as soon as i can, but a bitch has work tomorrow and the next day. please enjoy chapter two everyone! and if you wanna be added to the taglist just let me know! :)
now reading: ii. time bomb
previous chapter: i. hey, ho! let’s go!
next chapter: iii. black planet
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Hobie swings his way to where he’s sure Gwen is, and in doing so he will probably also find Miles and Pavitr. He’s sure he looks like if someone said the wrong thing to him, he would punch them in the face, because honestly? He just might. And he doesn’t care. You pissed him off. With your stupid opinions. People like you are the reason anarchy can never succeed, you’re either all in or you’re all out. He hates the way you dismissed him, which is a shame because he really thought you were drop-dead gorgeous.
Speaking of drop, that thought makes him drop. Like, actually. He face plants.
He groans. Fucking hell, he’s never had to deal with this type of hatred before. Usually, it’s just cut and dry ‘I hate you cause xyz’, but fuck you are making it hard. While he hates you for what you said, he loves your style, and he respects you standing your ground and not giving into him with your beliefs, but at the same time, you piss him off. He glances around, “Meant to do that.” No one in particular hears him, but he quickly webs off again. He searches for bright blond hair, and sure enough, he sees Gwen. She’s chilling in the common room Hobie claimed as his own a while back. He claimed it by… redecorating. He just made it feel more like home, and since Miguel is such a lame ass, he didn’t appreciate all the colorful spray paint and broken furniture. But Hobie doesn’t really give a fuck. As he gets closer, he can see that Miles and Pavitr are there too, and… absolutely fucking not.
He lands directly next to you with an unamused look on his face. “And who invited you into my home away from home?” You look at him and roll your eyes. “This your place? Well, that explains why it looks like someone gave Mayday Parker a 50-pack of markers and told her to go to town in here–”
“Ha ha. Funny.”
“–and to answer your question, I invited myself,” you say smugly, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t try to make me like you, it’s not gonna work, love,” he growls, and everyone can tell by the way he said love that he certainly did not mean it as a term of endearment. “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” you say, imitating his accent in over-exaggerated way. “I don’t think they are actually calling him their mate,” Pavitr whispers to Miles, who gives him an expression practically dripping in ‘no shit.’ Hobie tears his gaze away from you and looks at Gwen. “We need to show this twat around,” he huffs, and Gwen raises her eyebrows. “We? Isn’t that your job,” she says, and Miles nods. “Yeah, I remember you said you made a deal with Miguel that–”
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s my ‘job,’ when have I ever followed the rules of a fuckin’ job?” he seethes, and you snicker. “Aw, how endearing, the punk rebel has a job. I’ll be sure to go to Miguel and tell him you’re doing amazing, so that you don’t get fired, in fact, you could get promoted!”
“That’s it,” Hobie growls and turns to you, grabbing the neck of his guitar and getting ready to use it. You smirk and slightly crouch, ready to jump away or towards him, based on his next move. “OKAY! Okay, we’ll help you just put the damn guitar down,” Miles says, jumping between the two of you. Hobie looks at him before looking at you with a deep frown. “I don’t need help. I just need to make sure other people are here, so I don’t murder this nitwit,” he says, tossing his guitar back so it hangs off his back again. “If anythin’, you’re helpin’ them.”
“I don’t need help either. Especially not yours. I’ll find my way around here myself,” you say, crossing your arms. He turns and offers you a smile. “Well now that you say you definitely don’t want my help, looks like I’m gonna be that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and assist you.”
“My hero,” you say sarcastically, pushing past him and walking out of the room. He motions for the others to follow you first, and walks out last, slinking in the back. Gwen takes up the role he usually plays in showing everyone around. You nod and listen, occasionally asking a question and cracking a joke. He hates to admit it, but your jokes are actually very funny. It’s refreshing to hear deadpan, straightforward, dry comedy instead of the puns and silly jokes all the other Spider-People love to make. But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. Just watches you.
‘Like a creep,’ you think, catching him staring at you for what feels like the 50th time. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting from him. Truthfully, he’s probably the most attractive person you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Such a tragedy he’s also the worst person you’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with.
“Your suit is so cool, by the way,” Miles says to you, and you give him a grin. “Thanks. Made it myself.”
“Yeah. I can tell,” you hear Hobie pipe up, and your head snaps towards him. “Because it’s so stylish, fashionable, and better than anything you could do yourself?”
“No. ‘Cause it looks like it was put together by a colorblind toddler. If you look close enough, the blacks don’t even match,” he says, smirking. Now this was a lie. All the black in your suit was a perfect shade of raven, he just knew it would piss you off. And it did. “Fuck you. At least my suit doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old who just discovered Hot Topic for the first time,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth there, mate.”
“You watch yours, mate.”
“Okay, both of you shhhhhhh!” Gwen says, and you both look at her. “Don’t tell me what to do–”
“Stop talking like me!”
“What?! You stop talking like me!”
“Oh my God, the romantic tension is through the roof right now!” Pavitr suddenly pipes up, and now the both of you are staring at him, dark expressions on your faces. “I’d rather be eaten alive by a single piranha so it would take days until I finally succumbed to the sweet release of death,” you hiss and Hobie nods. “Finally. Somethin’ we agree on.” He turns and looks at you, and you roll your eyes at him. “Way to de-escalate, buddy,” Miles whispers to Pavitr, and Pavitr sighs as Miles walks a little faster to catch up with everyone else. “But I was being serious…”
Gwen continues to show you around, and when she finally finishes, you all are back at ‘Hobie’s common room.’ You walk back inside and sit on the tattered and broken-down couch. The way the room is decorated is kind of cool, you must admit. You’re just not a fan of the mismatched colors everywhere. And it could use a couple more decorations. Like bat skeletons. Or just live bats. That would be adorable. “Thanks for showing me around,” you thank Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr. “Not you, though,” you say to Hobie and he snorts. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to thank me for anything.”
“Why do you two hate each other so much? Didn’t you literally just meet?” Miles asks, looking exhausted from the snarky remarks coming from both of you. “We did,” you confirm. “And we don’t get along cause they don’t have any strong belief system.”
“Yes, I do! I’m just realistic, and he can’t understand that,” you say and he rolls his eyes. “Realistic, eh? I already told you I led a rebellion.”
“And I told you it doesn’t matter because everyone is shit. How many villains have you fought since this rebellion you led?”
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
“So, you’ve fought at least one. What did that rebellion get you then, huh?”
“I recommend you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”
“Please, do try. I need a new skeleton for my collection,” you growl and the two of you jump at each other. Luckily, Gwen and Miles web both of you and hold you back. “That’s enough of that,” Gwen says. “I have an idea,” Miles says, “why don’t we go visit your universe, (Y/n)? Maybe then Hobie can see why you’re so… negative.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere near that place,” Hobie nearly yells. “Good. I don’t want you there anyway.”
“On second thought, I think it might be very eye-opening to see the world you grew up in. Maybe I can team up with your sinister six and put you in your place,” he spits out at you, causing you to glare at him and flip him off again. “A field trip sounds fun, especially after all this just happened. Maybe it will help the two of you lighten up,” Pavitr says, and you both roll your eyes. “Fine. You can all come. But if you step one toe out of line, Hobie–”
“What? You’ll yell at me?”
“No. I’ll torture you to the point that you would beg me for death.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
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『 tag list 』
@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard​ @sparklyphantom​​ @weyrrii*
*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
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any thoughts on lilias parenting style?
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I’ve long held the belief that Lilia is not the “best” or “perfect” parent in TWST, but I love that he’s so imperfect yet is willing to learn and grow from his failures and shortcomings. It’s really commendable how far he has come, especially considering that he used to be much gruffer and made claims like he never wants a child or he’s not suited to be a father and is repulsed by the very idea of it.
It’s sad to think about how, for the longest time, Lilia believed he was incapable of loving others—both receiving love and giving it in a parental capacity. He says as much to Meleanor before what could be her last stand. Bro has so much love to give 😭 and it’s so fascinating to see book 7 focus on that love between parent and child, blood be damned.
Of course Silver is the quintessential child we all think of whenever Lilia’s parenting is brought up. Silver says it must have been tough for Lilia to raise him as a single parent and with limited knowledge of human children—but Lilia still did it, and out of the kindness of his heart, for an infant who was essentially a complete stranger. However, as far back as the human-fae conflict of Briar Country, Lilia was literally throwing his life and reputation on the line for his “children”. He protected Malleus’s egg with his own body. He provided the magic that would shave off several hundred years from his lifespan to ensure that his prince hatched. He allowed himself to be chased out of the capital city but still made the time to be there for Malleus, as well as shielded Silver from the ugly truth. In modern day, we also see Lilia him imparting sage wisdom onto his boys and making efforts to help them with their own downfalls: advising Malleus on the differences between fae and humans, asking the other first years to watch over Sebek, inviting Malleus to events, reminding Sebek to be kind to his human peers, etc. Above all else, Lilia promotes understanding, and wishes for a world where all the races can live together. He leaves Silver with the same sentiments, and in him, Lilia’s legacy of love can live on.
As I said briefly mentioned before, Lilia isn’t perfect. He’s putting his own life in danger and taking the emotional brunt of the events of the past for them. He hides the circumstances surrounding Malleus’s birth, the truth behind Silver’s origins, and many other details pertaining to the warring period. In modern day, Lilia is quick to make an exit when the dark carriage comes for him, trying to save his boys the agony of a prolonged good-bye. There are also just general parenting failures under his belt: feeding babies milk through a cup (you’re supposed to use a fitted nipple, otherwise the baby could choke), not being concerned when Silver is missing + expecting him to come back on his own, general emotional insensitivity and unawareness (him laughing when Silver realized their ear shapes are different and they’re not actually blood-related), leaving Silver unsupervised in their forest cottage while he goes off to travel, taking his pranks and mischief too far (thus causing trouble for Silver, such as Endless Halloween Night), his… cooking… etc. He does manage to mend some of those issues (like having the Zigvolts help watch Silver or letting slightly older Silver housesit with the animals), but other issues like the milk in a cup persist. Additionally, Lilia can be inconsistent with his emotional awareness, as he does not realize his Halloween mischief would worry Silver as much as it did. At the same time, Lilia is overall more in tune with his son’s feelings (he’s one of the few who can read the notoriously stoic Silver’s emotions flawlessly). However, Lilia still prioritizes keeping his childrens’ eyes away from the truth and instead is shouldering the pain for them. We find ourselves circling back around to all the sacrifices Lilia has made for Malleus, Silver, and yes, even Sebek—and I’ll bet that Lilia is willing to go the distance and do more.
I actually wonder if Lilia’s “I’ll shoulder everything for you” parenting originates in part from him overcompensating for the love he never received as a child. He was an orphan taken in as a ward for his country, shunned by the Briar Valley senators for being some filthy bat with no proper lineage to speak of. He didn’t get the girl he crushed on and instead lost her and his best friend (still MIA) to the war. He was banished from the capital and loathed for his mere existence. He had things thrown at him and was chased out of cities. Lilia has experienced so much hatred and vitriol that I would not fault him if he turned bitter and sent that same hate and vitriol back. That would be the easy thing to do. But… he has also experienced great kindness and acceptance along his travels. Strangers inviting him into their homes. People telling him about their lives. Offerings of food and a warm bed. It is through these experiences that Lilia is shown an alternative: a world of love, not war. Then, upon seeing these children in need of guidance, he sees a younger version of himself in them—lonely (Malleus, isolated in his castle), lost (Silver, without his parents), confused (Sebek, about his half fae/half human identity). He knows what could become of them if he lets hate envelop their hearts. And Lilia doesn’t want what he suffered through to befall them, nor a future where the same vitriol is perpetuated. So… he throws himself into ensuring these boys have a guiding star, someone who champions empathy and cooperation between all races, at the cost of himself.
It’s fascinating to consider that Silver (the one who was most closely raised by Lilia) reflects his father’s teachings but also Lilia’s self-sacrificial behavior, even though Silver isn’t fully aware of what Lilia gave to raise him. Silver consciously believes that he hadn’t done enough to “pay back” his dad (similar to how Lilia may have taken Malleus under his wing to “pay back” his debt of Maleficia taking him as an orphan in and not being there for Meleanor in her final battle). To compensate, Silver keeps pushing himself to do things like suppress his own sadness at Lilia’s farewell party, taking physical blows for Lilia, and even believing that he isn’t worthy of Lilia’s love. I guess the sayings “like father, like son” and “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” are applicable here.
Anyway! Lilia as a father (whether literally or figuratively) will never not be interesting to me.
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bitterbutblue · 5 days
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Is it bad i can imagine Robin as a hopelessly inlove girl like ofmgsh?? Like knowing how popular she is, she doesn’t have an attraction to anyone, seeing how some of her fans are just obsessed. She doesn’t like any of that.
But when she sees how polite and respectful you are, she’s immediately hooked.
Like you’re taking a liking to new cafe? You'll find that all your orders are on the house, already paid. Needing to vent? Her phone is always available ready for any of your calls or messages with flowers mysteriously on your doorstep the next day. You’re sick? She immediately drops everything to take a drive to your house with medicine and some of your favourite snacks in hand.
Please i love Robin, and i will ramble on and on about her everyday 🥺
~🍷
the way i manifested for robin before my final exams like i sat down with a group of friends and we did a little prayer circle and i hit the ten pull button while on 5050 adn we got robin and i proceeded to absolutely NAIL the exams on that day. she's my favourite for a reason.
⤷ you were just one of the people who worked in the fan meet and greets, setting up the venue and whatnot.
⤷ everyone there was going insaneee about THE robin being there, and you were excited too but upon seeing the way her fans treated her or behaved when seeing her, you couldn't help but feel bad
⤷ poor bby looked so uncomfortable, especially when the men are talking to her and trying to touch her as she walks off the stage. so you quickly took action (knowing it mayyyy cost you your job cause they could file complaints) but you couldn't care less.
⤷ you walk up to the man and aggressively shoulder him, pushing him aside as you approach robin to ask if she's okay with a very gentle smile
⤷ oh she's so gay.
⤷ fell for you hard and fast. literally offered you a job on the spot and you were like wtf
⤷ the entire time you worked as her assistant she clearly was in love with you. remembered your birthday, your favourite drinks depending on your mood, your favourite foods, snacks, everything. Always ordered a drink for you too, and you felt bad but she keeps insisting on treating you
⤷ no assistant of hers has ever been as caring as you!! always looking out for her, and arguing with the higher ups if you feel like they're pushing her too far and that was reallyyy what made her fall in love
⤷ you cared so much about her, not just because she's a celebrity but because she's a person. it's been so long she's forgotten how it feels to actually be cared for and not just looked at
⤷ she confesses to you one day when you snapped at her manager for commenting on her body weight again. you were sick of it- robin had barely gained anything but they wouldn't stop talking to her about losing weight so you snapped.
⤷ the manager demanded to have you fired but robin refused. instead she had sunday fire the manager.
⤷ it was a weird surge of emotions she felt in the moment, having someone actually look out for her. your face was red from anger and your breathing was unsteady, a look of pure irritation in your eyes but the moment you laid your eyes back on her the irritation fades into nothing but worry and she's smitten.
⤷ she asks you out on a date when you were walking her down to her car that'll drive you home and you thought you were dreaming.
⤷ she giggled at how u just stared at her, looking so confused and shocked
⤷ she kissed you on the cheek and your entire face just turned brick red
⤷ the next day, she got you another drink. except this time there was a heart doodled on the side, and a promotion letter next to it- asking you to be her manager.
⤷ the most loving girlfriend SERIOUSLYYYYY she doesn't take SHIT from anyone if they say anything bad about you. okay they can talk shit about her, but YOU? she'll start throwing hands
⤷ now that you're dating she spends even more money on u like christ, you knew she was rich but this is a whole other level.
⤷ rented out your favourite cat cafe for the day so you two could have a date in silence and peace without the stress of the cameras
⤷ wrote an entire album about you and you melted when you listened to it for the first time
⤷ despite how busy she was, she still makes you the most thoughtful handmade gifts. she learned to crochet to make you a beanie for when it gets cold when she realised you didn't have one in possession
⤷ she's your lover girl, forever and always <33
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writing-appreciation · 3 months
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The Office
Synopsis: You are promoted to the Unit Chief of Crime Scene Investigation. Moving in to your new office, some familiar faces help you settle in. Others, a little more than others... in his own way.
Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader
Warnings: SUGGESTIVE. Didn't proofread before I chose to upload this. Sorry in advance.
"Uh, actually, Pen, so sorry, can you actually set that box on the desk? That one has all my stationery." I said in a strained voice, trying to gesture to my desk, but the boxes I was carrying blocked my view.
"I totally would, my leige, but the boys have not quite gotten your megadesk in here yet." She rushed to me to help me destack my boxes that were dangerously close to toppling over as I struggled to keep my grip on them.
"Oh! Thanks you Freaky fashinova you!" I smiled at her help.
"Ladies, not to bother our new CSI Unit Chief, but this desk is a little heavy and you're standing exactly where we need to put it."
We both turned to see Derek, partially in the room, and Luke holding up the other side of the desk, but outside the room.
"Sorry, guys, we'll move!" I quickly apologized and began to move myself.
"Tall, dark, and muscles, you can move me any time you want." Penelope said while exchanging glances with the two men trying to move my desk into the room.
"Listen, Mama, any other time, but right now, my fingers are too sore to play these games right now. So move your perfectly fine ass.. please."
Penelope did move out of the spot after a few seconds of prolonged eye contact with Derek.
"Uh, as a Unit Chief, do I have an obligation to report this as sexual nature?" I asked, while adjusting my glasses and picking up a clipboard from an open box.
That comment caused an outburst of laughter to fill the room.
"Y'know, (L/n) don't you have a team yourself that could help you move all this stuff into here? Feels like your already abusing your power." Luke jokingly said as he adjusted his side of the desk to line up with the space I had cleared for it earlier in the day.
"Well, Agent Alvarez, you can thank Penelope, who graciously volunteered you and Morgan to move the heavy stuff into here." I clapped my hands together. And leaned on the now placed desk.
An array of beeps coming from all their phones interrupted him before he could rebutle.
"Let me guess, a serial killer loose on the east coast, oooh, no the Midwest?" I exclaimed as they each read their messages.
Derek was the first to look up and nod his head sadly.
"Four kids, all below the age of ten, abducted, brutally beaten, and then.." He trailed off.
Penelope and Luke shared a knowing look.
"Well, don't let me keep you, go, go save the kids." I smiled sadly while shooing them out of my office.
The three of them left and began their decent down to the BullPen, gathering their BAU team mates along the way.
It was weird being up here, being able to quite literally, have the higher ground to the agents below me, many of whom I have developed close friendships with over the years.
While watching the three agents join the rest of their teammates, I heard a familiar clearing of a throat which made me pull my attention to a friendly face leaning against my door frame.
"Dr. Reid, hello." I smiled, nodding in his direction.
"Dr. (L/n). Your office is a bit more chaotic than I expected." He gestured to several boxes, and scattered case files littering the tops of closed boxes, my makeshift desk before this new one came in.
"Well, considering I have only had this space for a week, and during 5 out of those 7 days, I was busy consulting with the Miami Dade Police with a few gruesome crime scenes curtosey of an unsub your team happened to catch while also in Miami, I haven't had much time to.. decorate." I raised my arms in gesture to the scattered boxes around me.
He laughed, now inviting himself into my office, carefully picking up a loose photo frame from an open box. A small smile creeped onto his face as he looked at the photo.
"Not that I don't enjoy your company, Reid, but don't you guys have a case to review before you leave?"
"Actually, not going. I'm guest lecturing at Virgina State this week. By the end of the week, if they still need me, I'll meet them out there. So, if you were to need any help..decorating I am available."
I smirked at his choice of words, knowing what photo he has in is hand. To any other, unsuspecting, eye, it appears to be a photo of an abstract piece of art. Lots of paint smears, random hand prints scattered along the canvas. But the two of us knew the story behind that photo. And it was a real work of art.
"Y'know," I began, kicking myself off of my desk, "now that I have a whole office, and not a tiny little desk, I might actually hang that painting here above my desk. Penelope said she thought the use of colors were.. emotion invoking."
He let out a breathy laugh and gently set the photo down, now taking a step closer to the window. "Ha, did she? It sure did invoke alot of emotion during its creation." He ran his finger along my window sill, raising it to find it dust-free.
"Yes, Dr. Reid. Very..cathartic I would say." I smirked. "Also, if you're looking for any signs of dust, don't you worry, I went through with a feather duster this morning."
"Good girl."
I bit my lip, to hold back a response to that. We, afterall, were still in semi-public. My door was wide open, blinds open, if somebody was walking by, they surely would have heard us talking. And God forbid anybody were to see a Unit Chief and a simple agent sharing a rather sexual verbal exchange.
But there was nothing simple about this man and I and our relationship. We have tiptoed around that imaginary line, separating agents from "fragernizing" with one another for so long. Some times that line was completely kicked to the side and forgotten during those (excitingly long, but wonderful) nights we spent in one another's bed.
It's borderline criminal- the hold that man has on me. And it's not just about the sex. That part is great and all, but it's the connection we have that makes this..situationship as great as it is.
Spencer said it best one night after a particularly rough case both my CSI team, and his BAU team collaborated on. We both had some...frustrations to get out and it made for a rather intense night once we got back to Quantico. But it's what followed the intensity that sealed the deal for me on Dr. Spencer Reid.
A tense, but comfortable air settled in the room as I laid on the bed, exhausted from what I believe was the sixth orgasm of the night. I stopped counting after three. Spencer would surely know, but he ran off to gather a couple drinks for us.
As I began to pry myself from the bed, I heard the familiar bedroom door open.
"Hey, lay back down, let me clean you up."
I made eye contact with the lanky man approaching me. He had a couple water bottles, and a dishtowel in his hand that appeared to be wet.
I think he caught on to my confusion and responded, "I mean, if you'll let me. You can clean yourself too if you want. I just feel kinda bad, I took alot of this case out on you just now." He awkwardly shifted from heel to heel.
I couldn't keep my laugh in. It wasn't a laugh at him persay. I just thought it was funny that awkward little Spencer Reid, eloquent DR. Reid, SSA Reid who has stopped hundreds of literal psychopaths without batting an eye, stood here in front of me who was still completely naked, heaving like a caged animal after the activities we just did, and he somehow felt more out of place than I did. In his own apartment. His literal bedroom.
"Really, Reid, it's fine. You don't have to clean me up because you feel guilty. I had a good time. No boundaries crossed. Honestly, I kinda needed a good time." I said, once again starting to sit up.
"(Y/n), please, I just. It takes two to make the mess. Let me clean you up a bit. I can draw us a bath? A nice massage? I bought more of that Chamomile Lavender tea you liked, and stocked up on the sleep massage oil you are obsessed with." He broke his eye contact to rush to the corner of his room, to his fully stocked tea/coffee bar.
It used to just be a coffee bar, until I found myself spending the night more and more often. And so there was an electric tea kettle, several different types of tea I have brought myself, for when I knew I would be spending time at his apartment.
But my mind stayed hooked on the fact that he said, ' I bought more of that Chamomile Lavender tea you liked..'
Idetic memory, Spencer Reid, remembering a fact like this wasn't all too surprising. It's the fact that he bothered to put effort into keeping things I like in his space. He was quick to recommend me keeping a whole dresser in his bedroom. Not just a drawer, oddly cramed with things. It's like he wants me here longer than just a simple bed buddy. And the thought of that made my heart ache.
I was pulled out of my trance when I heard water running from his bathroom. I looked up, curiously, meeting his eyes as he left the bathroom and rejoined me in the bedroom.
"You took too long to decide, so I decided for you, we're taking a bath and you're getting a massage. Here's your tea." He held put a mug with my initials on it.
This mug was also a new addition.
"Uh, t-thanks." I stuttered as I accepted the mug from him, examining it up close.
It was my favorite color. Favorite shape of mug. Hell my initials were done in my favorite font. But what caught me most off guard was the inscription on the handle
'For my favorite flower'
I turned the mug around to see the other side, and low and behold, there was a hand drawn image of my birth flower- his favorite flower.
"Wow, Reid, I love this mug." I gasped, still appreciating it.
"(Y/n)-" He seemed to want to say more, but cut himself off.
"Let get into that bath." He held his hand out, and I gladly accepted it with the hand that was not holding my tea.
He was first to get in, he smiled, so wide it almost hurt my cheeks to see him smiling like.. like a lovestruck idiot. I couldn't help but join his smile, and lay myself into the bath, in front of him. I eased into his chest almost immediately. The hot water was helping to sooth my aching muscles from the earlier activities. Spencer laid his chin on the top of my head and began absent-mindedly stroking my shoulders, which gradually transitioned to a full blown massage.
This was bliss.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He whispered into my ear.
His voice sent goosebumps down my arms, undoubtedly he felt.
"This is just nice." I sank further down into the tub, turning slightly to catch a partial glimpse of him.
He hummed in response and gently swiped a fallen strand of hair from my forehead. This simple gesture made me feel like a 17 year old girl again. The feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach made me so nervous, but I didn't want the moment to end.
"It's Spencer." He said with a smile, his eyes flicking to my lips and back to my eyes.
"Hmm?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
He scrunched his face in laugher and cleared his throat.
"My name is Spencer." He repeats, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Uh.. yeah? Kinda found that out a while ago." I laughed, still confused as to why he suddenly was saying his name.
"You still call me 'Reid'."
"Well, yeah you're Spencer Reid. The 'Reid' part is kind of a part of your name."
"Yeah, but when you call me 'Reid' it feels like you still see me as just a coworker."
Pretty sure my heart broke just then.
I quickly turned to face him fully, wanting to give him my full attention.
"What do you mean? I think you're so much more." I reached for his chin, to make him face me.
"You do?" He says, still in a saddened tone.
"Rei- Spencer," I corrected myself, "You are unlike any man I have ever met. You are the most caring, devoted, passionate, loyal, goofy, intelligent, wonderful mess of a man I have ever had the privilege of meeting. You are the first person I want to talk to after a tough case, and the last person I always talk to before bed. Meeting you has made me want to be a better person, it's made me a better friend. You've shown me a type of love I never thought I would see again."
"So you don't just stay for the sex?" He asked quietly, like he was afraid of the answer.
"Spencer, honey, if we quit having sex right now, you still won't be able to get rid of me. Sure, the sex is great, don't get me wrong, love that, you are truly gifted, but I don't need it. I just need you. Your company, these moments where we just talk and hang out, or when we go to nerdy conventions together and have the time of our lives. I need your rambling about a random topic you know everything about because I just enjoy being in your presence. And listening to you talk. Your voice is so calming. You can be telling me about the terrible and gruesome ways an unsub dismembered, disembowled, and worse to a victim and I will hang on your every word. Even in complete silence, I just feel your comforting aura. And I don't want that to go away. If you don't want me to go, that is. It was never about the Sex, Spencer, it was always about you."
Before I could continue, he pulled me into a tight embrace and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
We sat in silence for a while. I don't think Spencer was anticipating a big long confession from me today. However, I was careful with my words. I never exactly said 'I love you.' But God, did I want to. I do love this man. In the way that makes me want to grow old with him and listen to the way he would rattle facts off to our children.
"Yknow, I learned something rather interesting on this case." He finally spoke up, while rubbing circles into my pinky finger with his thumb.
"Oh, you can still learn things? What did you learn, Spencer?"
I felt him smile into my head at me using his first name.
"Our Unsub was choosing victims by his belief in the Japenese Red String theory."
"And because I didn't study Japanese myths, I'm gonna need you to explain that one to me, Doctor."
"So, pinkies are a big thing in it." He began to explain excitedly.
He held his arm out to meet mine. Both our right hands, extended out so we could both see our hands in front of us.
"The theory states that everybody is attached to somebody with whom they will tell an important story, or make history with."
"And I take it that they are attached with a red string, to their other person's pinky?"
"Yes. And what's even more tragically beautiful is that the connection never breaks. Even in death, the passing of the loved one becomes the story itself. Throughout any tangle, the string remains strong. They are destined to have that connection."
"That's interesting, but how did our unsub use that theory to pick his vics?"
"He was perverting the story. To him, he believed the stories he was destined to tell revolved around brutally torturing and ultimately murdering women he believed he was bound to."
"Oh, wow. Hey, does it ever get exhausting to constantly deep dive into somebody's psychology? At least with my job, everything is a fact. Splatter patterns, ballistics, autopsy results, everything I do is set in stone. I rarely, if ever, have to think about the how, the why, and the what's is going on in his head. It seems exhausting."
"It is exhausting, so it's nice to have somebody to talk to after a long one." He sighed, pulling me closer to his chest.
Eventually we made our way out of the bath, and dressed into our pyjamas for the night. Spencer put on some documentary in the background as we settled into the bed for sleep. I pulled out a book I was working through and began reading where I left off.
"Hey, let me read to you?" He looked at me with the biggest puppydog eyes I have ever seen.
I nodded in agreement and handed the book to him. He grabbed his reading glasses off his nightstand, cleared his throat, and began reciting the words from the pages.
I couldn't help but feel my eyes go heavy, finding a deep comfort and safety in where I was right in this moment, and who was in this moment with me.
I think Spencer felt me leaning further and further into his shoulder, dancing on the verge of sleep, so he did finish out the chapter and placed the book and his glasses on the nightstand.
He pulled the blankets up to our chests, and began to relax himself. His arms around their way around mu waist and he pulled me closer to him, even throwing his leg over my own.
"For the record, you are the person I am bound to. You are my destiny. You are the light in my darkness. You are the love of my life." He whispered, while placing a gentle kiss on my head.
"Love you too Spence.." I began, and immediately fell victim to slumber.
"Dr. (L/n)? Are you okay?"
His question brought me back to reality. And that reality is that I am going to start daydreaming about Dr. Spencer Reid right now.
"OH? Yes, thank you Dr. Reid. I'm fine. Just out in my own little world." I laughed off my need for him.
"Well, I have to start making my way out to Virginia State, so I'll see you around." The final part of his sentence, sounding more like a question. Like he was asking if he would see me later.
"I'm sure you'll see me around. I have some major nesting to do in this office. Have fun shaping future minds!" I called out the last part as he made his way out of my office. He did turn back, just before he had fully left my line of sight, giving me a small smirk.
The rest of the day went on fairly slowly. Alot of organizing my space to my liking. Penelope would swing by every so often with treats and trinkets. Before I even knew it, it was after hours in the building. After hours on a Friday night. Needless to say, everybody was eager to get home.
However, I was so caught up with decorating all day, I didn't get a chance to review case files for my team. I had planned to do this task over the weekend, but I noticed the usual hefty stack of cases, were actually only three cases. So I decided to just look them over here, rather than have them to ruin my weekend.
Penelope offered to stay behind as well, to, in her own words, be my sparkly ball of joy, while I looked at the information. I love that woman, but I knew she would distract me, and I would be stuck here even longer, so I sent her home.
I was so enthralled in my cases that I didn't really pay too much attention to the lights of the BullPen turn on. I figured it was an agent, running back into the office to grab something they forgot to get when they left for the day. I ignored it, and continued to read. That is, until a jiggling of my dornob caught my attention.
My eyes flickered down to my gun, laying holstered, on my desk. Carefully, I removed the gun from the holster, and began to stand. Afterall, nobody should be trying to get into my office. In fact, nobody else should be here.
I cautiously made my way to my door. There was no peephole, but I did have windows to either side of the door. Earlier in the day, I closed my blinds because the heavy foot traffic of the BullPen kept pulling me away from my tasks. Just as I was about to peak through the closed blinds, my phone began ringing in my back pocket.
"Shit." I cursed aloud, in a hushed voice, as my free hand flew to my phone to silence the noise.
"(Y/n), open the door, it's me."
I immediately relaxed and sighed in relief.
I unlocked the door, and welcomed the very dapper looking Doctor standing in front of me into my office.
"Spence, you gotta warn a girl. I had my gun drawn, definitely could've taken you out." I breathed out, now making my way back to my desk to reholster my gun.
"I did warn you. I texted you four different times. I even showed up to your apartment, and when I didn't find you there, I concluded you were still here. So now here I am." He gave me one of his infamous goofy smiles.
"Well, excellent deduction skills, Doctor, " I sat in my chair, pulling out my phone to read the texts Spencer sent me.
He sat in the chair, across my desk as I read the texts.
2:30 p.m
'How is the office decorating going?'
3:42 p.m
'I take it that it is going well. Would you please call me when you get a chance. I miss your voice.'
5:13 p.m
'I am currently at your apartment, I am cooking (your favourite meal). I assume you'll be a bit late home, so I'll finish up when you call me.'
6:48 p.m
'I'm not one for impatience, but I have not spoken to you since this morning, so I am going to the office, and (respectfully) dragging you out of there if I have to. X'
"First of all, I missed you too Spence. And I'm sorry for not responding. I got so tied up with decorating and reorganizing, that I lost track of time. Then I realized I had a few cases to review, which I was going to go this weekend, but there were only three, so I wanted to knock those out before I left for the weekend."
"Do you need any help?" He said, reaching for a file.
"No, honey, I'm fine, really. I just need maybe 15 more minutes, and we can head out, okay?" I gently placed my left hand on his to stop him from grabbing a casefile.
He looked at my hand on his, our engagement ring sat on my left ring finger, and I could tell he was confused.
"I hope you don't mind. I really like wearing it, and nobody was here, so I slipped it on." I gestured to the ring.
He was wildly smiling at my hand and ran hid thumb over my left ring finger knuckle.
'I love it. I wore mine today when I was lecturing. Makes it feel like you're right there with me." He grinned ear to ear.
I smiled, pulling my hand back, and picking up the file I was reading a few minutes prior.
I heard a shutter of a camera go off, which made me perk my head back towards the man across from me.
"Sorry. I couldn't help it, you look very good right now." He gushed as he looked at the photo on his phone.
"Spence," I began.
"You're sitting there, in your chair," He stood up from his chair, and began walking behind my desk, "behind your desk," He was standing behind me now, he leaned down to my ear, "in your CSI Unit Chief office, wearing your engagement ring. It's all very attractive. Doctor. (L/n)." He placed a kiss further and further down my neck as he spoke.
He stopped at my shoulder. Placing a gentle kiss on the clothed area.
"Spencer, I- we need to st-" He cut me off by slowly pulling my blouse down my shoulder to expose the skin. I gasped.
He quickly turned my chair around to have me facing him now. A suggestive look in his eyes hinted at his intentions right at the moment. He held his hand out, which I gladly accepted. He led me to stand, which I obeyed. After I stood, he pushed my chair out from my desk, knocking it into a bookshelf in the process, causing some books to topple to the ground.
"Hey! I worked hard on that organi-" I began to stay, but was interrupted by Spencer pushing me to the desk and slamming his lips into mine.
I muffled a moan in shock, but immediately began kissing him back. His hands wondered down to my hips, and he squeezed them like they were his life line. After a few minutes of a rather intense makeout, he broke the kiss, followed by a long inhale.
"Spencer, we really need to stop. Anybody can walk in. And I still haven't found a way to tell the director we're engaged. This would be a bad way for them to find out." I heavily breathed out.
"(Y/n), it is 7:20 on a Friday night. I think it's safe to say nobody will be barging in. And I can't get the idea of taking you right here, right now, out of my head. So please, stop worrying and enjoy the moment." He neatly gathered my case files and set them on the chair, completely clearing my desk of anything important.
He looked down at me with those damn alluring eyes. The kind that I have never been able to say no to. The kind that said he was ready to give me the world, whatever consequences may follow.
I nodded, eagerly. Throwing all resolve out the metaphorical window because now, seeing my lovely fiancee this lust driven towards me in our workplace was also driving me crazy with desire.
He didn't hesitate. He roughly connected our lips together again, now trailing his hands down my body.
He bent down slightly to grab under my thighs to help usher me to the top of my desk. I hopped up to be sitting on the desk.
He smiled into our kiss, but moved his lips down to my cheek, then to my jaw, then down my neck, peppering several kisses, all with varying intensities.
I felt his hands travel back up to my blouse. Then to the buttons, slowly undoing them as his assault on my neck never haulted. It felt so overwhelmingly amazing. And this was just the beginning.
There are so many different ways we could break in this office. Too many for just one night. This would more than likely be happening again. And again. And again.
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It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!
Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!
Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???
It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!
Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."
Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.
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derangedanomaly · 6 months
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hello !! If you don't mind could you do a Bad Sanses + Star Sanses x Fem!Model!Reader who cause a pure chaos in her AU caused the end of her world just because she were bored , like , mass murder , brainwashing , abuse , torture , manipulation , world war and a lot of bad thing in this type , if you don't mind of course !
Hello! I do not mind in the slightest! Enjoy! :D
MASTERLIST
BAD SANSES AND STAR SANSES X CHAOTIC MODEL READER
NIGHTMARE:
You sealed your fate, the moment you decided to act the way you do. He could sense your negativity a mile away.
You're forced against your own will to work for him. (Much like all the others)
You two don't really have much "bonding" time, so the start of your relationship is kinda rocky.
You're actually proving to be very useful for him and the team, so he'll promote you.
Congratulations! You're now working alongside him! How lucky.
(He definitely didn't paired the two of you on purpose. Noo, that's ridiculous!)
He probably won't care that you're a model, at first. After he'll get to know you better though- oh he'll buy every magazine you're on, every single thing that has your face on it, he'll own it.
He's actually proud of you. And he'll even say it out loud! (NOW YOU KNOW THIS MF IS IN LOVE, HE NEVER ADMITS TO BE ACTUALLY PROUD OF SOMEONE)
Will give you anything you ask for. In need of money? Sure. You want to buy this? He's got it covered babe.
KILLER:
Killer knew you way before he even met you. He's a fan lmao.
He seriously owns EVERY magazine you're in, and listened to every podcast you did. He's obsessed.
It's his guilty pleasure to stalk you online-
Imagine his surprise when he met you while he was on his mission. He was supposed to destroy an AU, along with Horror and Dust helping him, but after he saw you?? His idol? His favorite model?? THE ONE HE YEARNED SO MUCH FOR-
He got completely distracted, not fulfilling the mission, and instead asking you for an autograph.
He's so shocked when he sees you doing all that chaotic shit. You killed people? Brainwashed them? Manipulated them? DESTROYED A WHOLE UNIVERSE?! Wait...YOU DID THAT JUST BECAUSE YOI WERE BORED?!? You just became even more cooler.
Killer fell more obsessed in love with you.
DUST:
Lmao, he hates you. And not because you're a model, but because you're so chaotic.
Seriously, one Nightmare is enough 🙄
He's one of the "quiet but could kill you if wanted" types. So he'll just silently give you a side eye, all while glaring at you, when you're yapping next to him.
You try to get closer to him, and he's all like "Take one more step closer, I dare you"
And then you still get closer to him... And then he finds himself slowly falling into the deep pit you call love.
Even if your relationship had a rocky start, Dust will warm up to you after getting closer to you.
Now, he actually finds himself wanting your closure.
Will still shake his head whenever you do something chaotic, but if you payed closer attention, you could see a blush and a smile covering his hidden face.
HORROR:
Horror doesn't really understand the whole concept of modelling, but he'll like it, because you look so pretty while doing it! ^^
Likes your chaotic side. He watches you with a wide smile whenever you're doing something chaotic.
He's often encouraging you to even do them!
Will support anything you do, much like Nightmare, he'll give you anything you ask for.
Except he doesn't have near as much money as Nightmare, so he'll be a little limited.
But if you want something really bad, he'll save up some money for you to buy the thing you want, or if it's an item, he'll try to handmade it.
HC that Horror likes to do wood carving :)
Please tell him about your chaotic adventures, he'll thrive in them!
DREAM
You're a menace to society, and he's determined to change you.
He'll try to change the way you do certain things, or the way you think. Basically just nullify your chaotic side.
You're probably not listening to his scolding or tips most of the time though. 🤷‍♀️
Oh god...if you ever tell this man just WHAT you did... He'll destroy you right there.(In what way though ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))
He sees you as a potential threat. Seeing as you destroyed a universe, and just because you were bored too!
As for your modelling career, Dream won't pay attention to what you do, his whole attention is on how chaotic you are.
INK:
The gossip king right here folks.
He also, much like Killer, already knows about your modelling career.
Why? He lives off of the drama. (There's quite a lot involving you, because you're so chaotic 💀)
He'll also ask for your autograph the moment he sees you.
He'll always laugh out of glee whenever you tell him about something chaotic you did.
There's no way to really "shock" him, unless you tell him that you know the purpose of his vials... No one was supposed to know what use the vials have for him, and you actually knowing?? He's feral.. and I don't mean it in a good way...
Other than his vials, there is really NO way of ticking him off. He's just unbreakable. 🤷‍♀️ (Probably cause he doesn't have real emotions-)
SWAP:
HE WANTS TO BE YOUR BODYGUARD!! (Say yes, or you'll never get rid of him..)
He likes to assist you in every way, anything you need, and he's up and ready to get it to you.
Swap sees the good in everyone, so when you tell him how chaotic you are, he won't give up on you! He's not like Dream, who'll want to change you, instead.. he'll want to understand why you're acting the way you do, and try to connect with you through that.
You and Swap probably get along really well, he really knows how to befriend people- I guess that's why he's called THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!
He'll be happy to protect you from any creeps that make you too uncomfortable, in fact- he'll probably protect you even before you could tell him.
Swap isn't one to brag, but he'll be happy to show off how strong he is. Carrying you around, holding your heavy bags, anything that requires extra strength- he's there. :)
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jewishwarriorprincess · 11 months
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Things that boggle my mind:
How Hamas bodycam and live stream footage is considered Israeli propaganda
Why those who celebrated what happened are also denying it happened
Any images and videos from Oct 7th is immediately called fake and Israeli propaganda
How people will still claim that Jews..oh sorry Zionists control the media and governments yet the media and governments are constantly condemning or spreading misinformation about Israel
How fast people will use photos from Syria to claim it's Gaza
How no one actually does any digging and research into what they see and immediately believe it as fact
The revisionism of history, including claims that Jews lived peacefully with Muslims in the MENA ignoring the fact that Jews were forced to pay a protection tax (Dhimmi) and could not be above Muslims in any way, often stripping them of their Jewish identities and the violence that occurred before the establishment of Israel
How the Left will immediately retweet and share screenshots of literal white supremacists because it's against "Israel" even though they are mainly extremely false or full of hate
How promoting the boycott of Jewish businesses, even ones owned by Israelis who have nothing to do with the government is not considered antisemitic (according to the Left)
And while promoting BDS, they still use Israeli and Jewish products, technology, medication, etc
How what Hamas did is still being considered by the Left as "freedom fighting"
How literally none of my Leftie goy friends posted any support for Israel and the Jewish people but will scream ceasefire
How people scream ceasefire and don't mention the hostages
How quick people were able to forget or brush off the atrocities of Oct 7th
How Hamas' literal war crimes are not being mentioned or condemned by the UN, WHO, etc but these organizations are so quick to throw Israel under the bus and scream war crimes when the retaliation and ways of retaliation are adhering to international law
How corrupt the UN is. How can you let Iran be on your Human Rights council and still be seen as legitimate? How can you turn a blind eye to your schools and hospitals being used by Hamas for firing rockets and teaching children that their only purpose in life is to kill Jews and be martyred?
How no one, including the media (besides Israeli Media) talks about the continuous rocket attacks done by Hamas and the PIJ since Oct 7th which is aimed at targeting civilians (also a war crime).
How ripping down posters, even smearing dog shit onto posters of hostages, especially children is considered ok and an act of protesting
How Jews are told to hide their identities, not wave their flags, literally just not exist around the pro Hamas, sorry pro Palestinian crowds due to safety concerns or a risk of upsetting the protesters
How the people claiming to care for Palestinians don't speak up about the conditions Hamas keeps their people under in Gaza, executing them for speaking out, stealing aid supplies and money, how their leaders are worth billions and reside in Qatar while they tell their people to be martyrs for the cause
Kapos... I don't understand the anti-Zionist Jews to be honest. Especially seeing how they help spread misinformation and support those who want to kill them.
How targeting Jewish social media creators, especially those who are Orthodox, and making videos to smear them and encourage harassment because they are Jewish, spoke out about what happened on Oct 7, and support Israel is seen as ok... trying to destroy their livelihood, their mental health, and even threaten their lives.
How organizations like JVP, INN, etc are not being investigated in regards to their legitimacy
How indigenous people in the West are being tokenized and allowing it to happen, not researching history to see that the Jewish people are actually indigenous to the land and are an example of decolonization
That there are politicians who refuse to condemn Hamas but are not being investigated even though there have been proof of ties to Hamas
There are so many videos of Imams around the world preaching to kill Jews and if you call it out you're Islamophobic
The silence from women, especially those in the MeToo movement and UN Women organization in regards to the rape of Israeli women during Oct 7th
How people misread a headline regarding babies being decapitated and somehow blame Israel for saying 40 babies were beheaded when that is not what the reporter said at all
People saying that everything Israel has said about the attacks has been proven to be a lie yet refuse to provide any sources and if they do provide a source it's usually from Quds, Al Jazeera, or Electronic Intifada
Speaking of Intifada, how the Left will proudly shout for an Intifada without knowing what it is or what happened during the 1st and 2nd Intifadas
How the words Genocide, Ethnically Cleansing, Apartheid, and War Crimes have become buzzwords that have lost all meaning since they are so often used incorrectly
How watermelons have been ruined for me because now every time I see even the emoji I think about how people use it to promote a Jewish genocide
How people will post onto social media very antisemitic crap but if you call them out, try to educate, or post anything relating to Israel it is removed by the platform for violating some kind of imaginary rules. Saying death to Jews is ok but calling them out on it is not?
That people don't understand this wasn't a war we wanted to fight but were forced into it
That Israelis are not the government and we are not Bibi
How people will use Ethiopian Jews as a "gotcha" but when Ethiopian Jews call them out on tokenizing them and to STFU they are Israeli propagandist
That apparently I am a paid by Israel to engage in combatting disinformation....still waiting on that check because I could desperately use the money
People saying Jews are wealthy with privilege. I grew up a poor Jew and I'm still a poor Jew, my bank account is crying, again I'm waiting on that Israeli check lol
How people are calling Jews white supremacist oppressors....huh?
How the LGBTQ+ crowd are openly participating in calls for a genocide to the Jews and to eliminate Israel, even though it's the only country in the Middle East they can be openly themselves in
How Hamas top leaders openly talk about their desires, their plans, and how they mistreat their people in their goal to kill Jews, and how they have the Left on their side and brag about it but when posting those interviews it's considered Israeli Propaganda
How people are telling Jews to leave Israel...telling them to go back to Europe even though a majority of Jews in Israel are from MENA countries that forced them to flee, taking their property, money, valuables, documents. And when confronted about this, they say they can go back to Iraq, Iran, Yemen.... showing how dumb they really are. Also considering a lot of Israelis ages newborn to 40 are a mix. For example, my husband is Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, where is he supposed to go and our children? These countries are unsafe for Jews and we refuse to go back to Dhimmi status
How people ignore and or support that there are so many Islamic countries but a tiny Jewish one is seen as a threat... that a Jewish country is not allowed or is "racist", but the Islamic majority countries are ok? Even Christian ones?
Honestly just how stupid people are, how the same people who call themselves free thinkers aren't at all. How the same people who chanted to punch a Nazi are participating in Nazi like behaviors. The same people who said they would hide Jews during the Holocaust are the same ones participating in the rounding up of Jews.
I have so many more thoughts and I needed to vent it out. I remember my grandmother, who was able to escape the camps as a child because her parents had her baptized and sent off with other children, feared that another Holocaust would happen. That so many older Jews, especially Israelis, have an emergency pack in case they had to flee... cash, valuables, documents, family heirlooms all hidden in a secure spot just in case.
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