#honestly I love the variations you have all of his dress
Note
Could you write Ghost x fem!reader where she finds him attractive but is too shy to actually tell him but also can't hide the way she's feeling, so Ghost notices her interest and eventually they end up in bed (*cough* you know what I mean)? Also Ghost being gentle and protective towards her, plz
Ps. I love your writing!
Word Count: 8314
i’m incapable of short prompt fills, apparently! o, but i am filled with grief!
anywho, reader’s codename is ‘ladybird’ (hc that soap gave it to her because she’s lucky) but is otherwise nameless.
contains masturbation, oral sex, lots of feelings, wee bit of slow burn, ghost being like weirdly emotional and soft, and soap’s gratuitous and unfortunate use of emojis. 💀/🐞4ever
---
The first time it really hits you, you're in a helicopter about two miles above the ground—honestly a terrible place to face your feelings. It's a velvet-dark night, strategically chosen for the new moon, the countryside below nearly invisible. You're almost in a doze, caught up in the Chinook's blades' low, thunderous pulse and the sporadic rocking as it hits little glades of turbulence. Your eyes lose focus on some of the running lights, until they turn hazy, and its only when the man across from you moves his boot do you snap back to attention.
Ghost. Right. You learned his name a few weeks ago during your orientation, but he was deployed on a recon mission only a day later. Price summoned him back for this mission, but aside from a few gruff comments at the all-hands meeting, you haven't heard him say much.
For a moment, you think he might have dozed off, too. He’s leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. And that’s fair, you think; Soap told you he didn’t think Ghost ever slept.
You silently study him, the way his head rocks a little with the turbulence, how much taller he is than everyone else in his row, the peculiar illusion that the eye sockets of his mask are empty—
And suddenly they aren’t.
He’s looking back at you, dark eyes regarding you passively, even though the mask makes every look significantly more intimidating. For moment that goes on way too long, you don’t look away, your gazes locked. Your heart takes the tracheal elevator to your throat, beating loud enough to drown out the Chinook’s roar.
You look away first, and you swear you hear him snort.
The rest of the journey to the drop-off zone, you deliberately don’t look at him; but when you close your eyes, there he is.
All you can think is ohhhh, shit.
---
Military crushes aren’t abnormal. Put enough people at the peak of physical excellence in a room, throw around some form-fitting uniforms, and mix in a few adrenaline rushes—it’s a goddamn potent mixture. You’ve had your share of mess hall dreamy-eyed gazing sessions, and a few ‘I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go’ moments in gyms and fitness centers. That’s fine; that’s normal.
What you start feeling for Ghost isn’t that.
Nevermind that he’s rarely out of tactical dress, and if he is, he usually defaults to a hoodie or something that doesn’t exactly entice the imagination. And he’s never out of some variation of his mask, so you can’t think woah, pal, do you cut glass with that jawline because as far as you can tell, he doesn’t have one. No mooning over cheekbones, admiring the curve of lips. He has nice eyes, but ever since the night in the Chinook, you haven’t been able to meet them for more than a second before your heart does that terrible little samba again.
Per your mental checklist, aside from being tall and muscular, he doesn’t check all your normal boxes. By all those counts, Gaz or Soap are way better fits. Hell, Soap likes to hang around in his silkies like they’re pajamas, showing off plenty to keep your fantasy fodder trough filled. And you’ve caught Gaz doing push-ups in the lounge, his tight shirt doing wonders for his shoulders.
But it’s Ghost who makes you feel like a hormonal teenager. It’s Ghost that gets you antsy and fidgety when he enters a room. And it’s Ghost that you think about during your rare alone time in the shower, when your hands start drifting south and the tile walls are your only support.
You’ve got it bad for him, and you have no idea what to do about it.
---
You’re doing recon in Berlin when Soap notices.
The mission details are simple: a drug lord known as Keiler using a night club as a go-between for his suppliers and dealers—all further complicated by the fact that he has plenty of friends in the arms trade, and by Laswell’s reports, he’s very generous to those friends. The club is a front, a money laundering wonderland. Through your observation, drugs and alcohol are doled out in equal volume, all to the backdrop of skull-splitting bass and sharp scalpels of strobe lights.
The biggest obstacle is that Keiler likes to use a private room overlooking the club as his perch, and your intelligence says that at any given time, he has a small army defending him. Getting to him requires an incredible degree of finesse. Naturally, Ghost is the one to do it.
You, Soap, and Gaz are scattered around the main floor of the club. Gaz is out on the dance floor, Soap’s taken up a spot near the bar, and you’re in the lounge. It’s the first time you’ve done something like this (and in an outfit with so little fabric), and you’re really not used to being ogled and pawed by a bunch of drunk, drugged, or horny Berliners.
Soap must see your discomfort from his position, as you hear a dry, amused, “Feelin’ a little tense, Ladybird?”
You swallow hard and chase it with a sip of your drink, which definitely needs to be watered down. “I’m fine,” you say.
“You look like you just drank petrol.”
“You’re the one who ordered it for me.”
Gaz cuts in with a weary, “Do we have eyes on Ghost, yet? I’m starting to get tired of people grabbing my—”
“I’m here,” Ghost’s voice scrapes over the comms, causing you to sit up straight and look around. You catch sight of Soap who has his hand curled in front of his mouth, clearly snickering like a heathen.
“Think you scared the shit out of Ladybird, LT,” he says.
He’s lucky he’s on the other side of the room, otherwise you’d pretend to be extremely clumsy and find an excuse to spill your drink on his (very, very tight) shirt. You mouth ‘shut up’ at him, and he reaches up with his pointer finger to draw an invisible halo over his head.
Ghost ignores him. “I’m near the east stairwell, headed to second deck. Got one guard at the far end. Gaz, you seein’ anything I should know about?”
A pause, then, “Negative, Ghost. I’ve got what you’ve got.”
“Copy. Going to second deck now.”
Out of habit, your eyes go to the east stairwell, peering through the haze pierced with multicolored lights to see a single dark shape ascending. He disappears behind a catwalk, then reappears to the right, mingling with the crowd near the second floor bar. Once he’s there, he seems to fade into the throng of people, most in dark clothing, some in masks. Just like that, he’s invisible.
It’s hard to focus on looking calm and happy to be there, but you keep sipping your drink, watching the dancers and feeling the bassline of yet another techno song thrumming in your chest. You’re glad you’re not out on the dance floor, or being called to give come-hither glances to bouncers and guards.
Then, “Coming back down to first deck,” Ghost says, clearly agitated. “Too many guards and too many people. We need another way up.”
Soap grins. “Violence isn’t the answer, LT?”
“Negative. Start looking for another route.”
On cue, you stand up and cross the room to the bar, sliding in beside Soap. He’s fishing for another couple Euro from his wallet, pushing it across to the bartender with two fingers. The bartender gives him a brief nod and refills his glass, while Soap turns his attention to you.
“Any bright ideas?”
You frown and adjust the straps on your top again. It’s a stupid piece of clothing, always feeling like it’s going to fall off. “Only the emergency stairs by the front doors, but I can’t imagine Keiler leaves those undefended.”
Soap looks thoughtful and scratches at his stubble. “Yeah, but probably no civilians, either. And if the door’s alarmed, Ghost can take care of that.”
As if summoned, you feel Ghost appear before you see him, a huge presence over your shoulder that makes you jump. “Jesus!” you hiss.
And Soap, the traitor, laughs to the point of wheezing as Ghost takes up the bar stool on his other side. “I think you’re giving our Ladybird here a complex,” Soap says through his laughter.
Ghost rolls his eyes. From this angle, you can see Ghost in more than just the dim light you’ve been working with most of the night. He’s not dressed too far outside his usual fashion wheelhouse—heavy boots, black trousers, and a loose black hoodie. His hood’s pulled up over a black beanie and a skull-painted gaiter, and he’s foregone his usual thick coating of greasepaint for black-ringed eyes (is that eyeliner?) and a streak of smoke-colored paint that just manages to obscure the color of his brows. The downside (for you, at least) is that the combo manages to draw his eyes into sharper contrast, making them that much more intense.
Suddenly, your heart’s doing the thing again.
Ghost doesn’t seem to notice any change in you, but you think Soap’s actually looking for it. He watches you, brows lifted, mouth curled like a flirtation of a smirk. Briefly, he glances between you and Ghost, and then the smirk appears in full force, enlightenment dawning.
Before he can insinuate a thing, you’re shoving your half-empty glass across the bar top with a too-high, “Bitte.” The bartender only gives you a brief, unamused look before taking your glass and remaking whatever godforsaken cocktail Soap ordered.
It’s not a good distraction, and the damage is already done. Soap knows, damnit. His smile is too easygoing, but he turns to Ghost and starts talking about the emergency stairwell, which is a relief. Ghost looks over his shoulder toward the stairwell in question, and as he does, Soap looks at you and makes the gesture of zipping his own mouth shut, throwing away the proverbial key with a wink.
As he does, Gaz pipes back up with, “Ghost, you copy?”
“Yeah, Gaz?”
“You, uh, know anything about a big guy with a tattoo of a boar on the back of his head?”
Ghost looks toward the dance floor, brows furrowing. “Yeah, that’d be Bauer, Keiler’s right hand man.”
“Great. Glad you know him, because he’s here.”
Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be. If Bauer’s here, then either Keiler’s doing something more than his usual partying upstairs, or Keiler knows someone’s here looking for him. Either way, the mission just got significantly harder, and your night got that much longer.
With a grunt, Ghost pushes off the bar and starts making his way to the emergency stairwell. “I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. Out here.”
Once he’s gone, there’s a pause—a very heavy pause. Then, Soap looks at you with an expression that is just a hair too pleased. “Ghost, huh?”
Your face heats up, right as the bartender hands you your drink. You reach for your wallet, only for the bartender to put a hand up and shake his head. “Nein, für das schöne Mädchen,” he says.
For the pretty girl.
“Bet Ghost thinks so, too,” Soap says, and you resolve to definitely spill your free drink on his too-tight pants.
---
Weeks after Keiler’s nice and cozy in a maximum-security prison and the 141 is back at base, you have another miniature existential crisis.
It’s all an accident—just a tempest of bad timing and bad luck. Ever since you came back from Germany, you’ve had a tough time getting a full night’s sleep. It’s easy to blame the natural stress of your work, the long hours, the high-adrenaline action you see more than you ever did before this job. And, well, part of it has to come from Ghost. He’s occupied your thoughts more than ever since the night club.
Your solution is to hit the gym late at night, pushing yourself until you can’t keep your eyes open and no amount of insomnia can overcome it. The first few nights of this effort work fine—you end up in bed around one or two in the morning, and sleep until your alarm goes off. No one bothers you; no one hogs the machines. It’s kind of nice.
However, you don’t account for all the night owls that share the base with you.
You head to the gym late on a Friday night, towel around your neck, water bottle at the ready, podcasts preloaded. If you ever hit the gym during the day, you usually do so in a t-shirt and sweatpants. At night, you’ve started opting for PT shorts and a tank top, happy for the lack of eyes around the room.
Except for tonight.
You open the door into the gym, only to hear the mechanical drone of a treadmill and someone sprinting damn fast on it. For a second, you freeze, hiding behind the corner. Then, slowly, you peer around it, clutching your phone and water bottle close to your chest.
Jesus Christ. It’s Ghost.
Ghost, in a t-shirt. In sweatpants. Running on a treadmill set to the highest incline. Panting.
Ghost, with bare arms, showing a detailed tattoo on his left arm, and prominent veins running over his chiseled muscles. He looks like a fucking Greek statue, and that’s just what you can see.
“Ohhh, my God,” you whisper to yourself, immediately working on an exit strategy that doesn’t involve catching his attention.
Which obviously doesn’t come to pass. It’s something you probably should have learned on the helo ride—Ghost knows when he’s being watched. He turns his head, dark eyes fixing on you immediately. Briefly, he looks back at the treadmill, then down at his watch, and back to the treadmill’s controls. He slows it down, dropping the incline, until he finally steps off and starts walking toward you.
Abort, abort.
You think about fleeing, running back to your room or rolling under a table or hiding behind a counter like he’s a goddamn velociraptor in the kitchen. You do none of those things, because despite your training, you freeze up. No one could blame you, you think. It’s hard to do much else when a six-foot-something skull-faced wall of muscle walks up to you. And you must look stellar, holed up in a corner by the door, your water bottle and phone held up like a shield.
Ghost takes in the sight of you, eyes flicking up, down, up. Heat rises to your face, and down to—to nowhere, because it’s better not to think about it. You suddenly feel too vulnerable in your choice of outfit, naked under his gaze.
“Ladybird,” he says. Your nickname becomes a hot scratch of sound, losing its whimsy in favor of a tone you can’t define. “You need somethin’?”
There’s a patch of sweat by his collar. You stare at it, then at the floor.
“No, I just— I was, um, just about to leave, and... Yeah, I’m gonna go.”
He’s silent until you finally look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in what what feels like an eon. He looks amused, but there’s a quirk in his brow like he can’t quite get a good read on you. “You look like you were about to use the gym.”
You look down at your bottle, phone, and towel like you’re just now noticing them. When you bring your attention back to him, you feel like you need to just kick the door open and escape, dignity be damned. “I... was,” you say slowly. Then, you rally yourself, trying to look upbeat and resolved. “Y’know what? You can keep using it. I’ll come back later.”
He shrugs, but you see it. Some secondary expression slinking around in his eyes like it’s working through the perpetually-moving cogs in his head. He gives you another one of those assessing glances, and for a second, you think he’s going to step into your space. His body language looks primed to do so, and you hold your breath in anticipation for it, unsure of what he’s going to do.
Then he takes a step back, and another.
“Suit yourself,” he says. “I wouldn’t mind it, though.”
Before you can process his words, he’s back on the treadmill, tweaking the settings and raising the incline again. The belt starts moving, and he’s back to looking like power personified, a vision in motion.
You have got it so bad.
It’s a hasty retreat to your room, and once the door’s shut behind you, you’re panting like you had run on the treadmill and lifted weights.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hiss, discarding your things on the table beside your bed, kicking off your running shoes, then laying down and staring at the ceiling. He knows. He has to. Ghost’s whole job depends on him being observant, and he looked at you like he was reading a fucking book.
You groan and press your palms into your eyes until phosphenes appear, dancing around and shimmering like fireworks behind your eyelids. You’re going to have to leave the 141 out of pure mortification. You’ll have to go into some kind of witness protection, change your name, and move to the other side of the earth. Or if you stay, you’ll have to pretend Ghost doesn’t exist. You’ll hide behind walls, slinking through the building’s HVAC just to avoid him like you’re working on a heist. Maybe you can convince Soap or Gaz to accompany you everywhere so you can hide behind their bulk.
But then, your horrible brain reminds you of what you’ll miss out on. It runs through a greatest hits reel of your crush so far—Ghost’s eyes, his presence stretching long over you like a shadow, his massive frame, his arms. The tattoo, detailed enough to tell from a distance, and then the thought of running your fingers over it, tracing all the fine points and lines. And are those his only tattoos, or are there more?
And his voice. Jesus, you replay the few words you’ve heard him say over and over, savoring each syllable, each quirk of his accent. Even the last thing he said—
I wouldn’t mind it, though.
That makes you open your eyes again, widening them as you take in the pocks and scrapes on the ceiling. He wouldn’t mind what? Having company in the gym? Having you, specifically, as his company? You don’t know what to make of it, or what he meant by it. Honestly, you feel like you don’t know anything right now.
Except that you want him. That’s the only thing you’re sure of. You want to know how his hands feel on you, how they would run over your bare skin, what the callouses on his fingers would feel like on the most delicate and sensitive parts of your body. Your imagination leaps ahead of you, guiding your own hand down into your shorts and under the band of your panties. You tease yourself, just dipping your fingers into the wet heat, trailing them over your clit like a hint to yourself, coaxing your arousal out of your panic.
His hands would feel different. When you rub your index finger over your clit, you imagine his finger instead, pressing gently against you, building up friction slowly, making you ache. You wonder if he’d savor your reactions, watching you get worked up, grinding against his hand to seek any kind of relief.
“Easy, Ladybird,” you imagine him saying, the nickname now a tease. And he’d know your real name, the one hidden away in your file. He’d whisper it into your ear, breath hot on your neck, his whole body eclipsing yours.
Your pace quickens, fingers running urgently between your clit and opening, causing your core to tighten and your breath to come in short gasps and barely-concealed moans. Ghost would tell you to let them out, let the whole damn base hear how aroused he makes you, how badly you’ve wanted him.
You breathe his name into the small space of your room, a whisper in the still air broken only by the low hum of the forced air in the vents. When you finally plunge your fingers in, it takes every bit of self-control not to outright moan and let everyone nearby know what you’re doing. Normally, you can stay quiet when you get yourself off, but you’re damn near frantic with this, whatever it is Ghost has done to you.
His fingers in you, fucking you in long, languid strokes, drawing himself out and pushing back in—all the while, watching your reactions. When you rock your hips to the pace of your hand, you imagine his voice again, “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my hand. Let me see you.”
You’d show him. Hell, you’d soak his hand, and it would remind him that it’s his fault you’re like this.
The wet sounds of your hand on your cunt is lewd and loud. It’s almost too much, enough to make you stop at the apex of your pleasure, to hide yourself under the blankets in shame and pretend that none of this happened.
But the vision of Ghost keeps you going, keeps your fingers moving in and out, crooking them inside and forcing out a gasp as a white-hot shock of pleasure lances up your spine and settles warm in your belly. The pad of your thumb presses against your clit, and you multitask on yourself, building up that friction, bringing yourself to the precipice.
He’d take you there. He might even pull you back from the edge over and over, teasing you with the fall.
“Do you want it? How bad? Show me.”
God, you would. Any way he wanted, you would show him. You’d beg and plead if that’s what got him to finally make you come.
So you whisper, “Please,” into the night, to a man who is never going to be in your bed, never going to touch you like this, never going to see your pleasure through to the end. The Ghost in your imagination has to stay there, behind locked doors and bulkheads, secured and contained for good.
But until then, you chase your orgasm with him, hitting that divine height and going into a freefall. Blood rushes in your ears, muscles twitching, heart racing. Your head comes off the pillow, back arching, toes digging into the mattress, mouth open on a moan that you refuse to let loose. You come way harder than you ever have using your own hand, enough that when you finally lower yourself back onto the bed, you grimace at the feeling of a wet patch on the sheets.
“Fuck,” you say, very emphatically. To yourself, to Ghost, to the whole damn situation.
Groaning, you reach over and grab the towel, wiping your hand and tucking it under your ass before rolling onto your back again and wondering what the hell you’re going to do.
---
You’re going to hide from Ghost, that’s what.
Captain Price gives the team a few days off to rest up for the next mission, and you decide right then and there that you’re going to spend every second off base, as far away from the barracks as you can get. You’ll get a hotel, order a ridiculously expensive amount of room service, and marinate in your feelings for a couple days until it’s all out of your system. Maybe you’ll go to a bar or coffee shop and chat up some nice person who isn’t a tall, broad, terrifying British soldier. And maybe you’ll have a night of incredible passion and twisted sheets, and it’ll be so cathartic that when you come back to base, you’ll be a whole new person.
That plan holds until your phone goes off while you’re packing up.
It’s a text from Soap: ‘wyd?’
‘Going off radar for a couple days. Why?’
He sends a sad emoji, then two beer glasses clinking together, a soccer ball, and then a big red question mark. Apparently, Soap only knows how to speak in hieroglyphs.
You smile, and type back, ‘Sorry, need to go clear my head.’
Skull emoji. Question mark.
‘None of your beeswax,’ you send, followed by the soap emoji.
‘that sucks,’ he types back. There’s a short pause, and then he types again. ‘cause he was looking for u earlier’
Your heart damn near comes to a stop, and you very hesitantly respond, ‘Why?’
‘idk. think he wanted to ask u smth’
Nope. You’re not taking the bait. If Ghost wants to talk to you, he can come right up and—and you can walk off in the opposite direction and act like there’s something incredibly interesting that you need to see right that second.
You type a few variations of ‘Then he can come and talk to me himself,’ but none of them sound particularly nice. Ghost hasn’t done anything wrong, so there’s no reason for you to act like he has. And for that matter, you’re supposed to be hiding from Ghost, not encouraging him to find you. Instead, you send back a clipped, ‘Okay.’
Nothing.
For one hopeful second, you think Soap’s mercifully let the conversation go, allowing you to go in peace to your nice hotel and your overpriced room service food.
Instead, you get the sunglasses emoji, a wink face, and, ‘k i told him to come see u’.
‘WHAT’
The only response is the skull and the little running cloud dash emoji, suggesting that Ghost is making a beeline right to your room. Panic seizes you and you fling your phone on your bed like somehow it’s going to help. It bounces harmlessly, then lands screen up, emojis taunting you.
Quickly, you start shoving the rest of your clothes and toiletries in your bag without a care as to where everything goes, eager to book it out of there as fast as your legs can take you. Once your bag is zipped up and thrown over your shoulder, you think you might be in the clear. Mission nearly accomplished.
Nearly.
Two solid knocks on your door almost make you hit the ceiling. You hold still, using that Jurassic Park wisdom again: if you don’t move, he can’t see you.
That applies to fictional dinosaurs, not trained killers, and certainly not Ghost. He knocks again, then follows it up with, “Ladybird, it’s me.”
Yeah, you know. That’s the problem.
Briefly, you consider going out the window, shimmying out and potentially getting caught on a base security camera for someone to laugh at later. That doesn’t make the problem go away, though.
You can just tell him you’re in a hurry, that your ride is at the gate right now and you don’t want to keep them waiting. Whatever conversation he wants to have, it’ll have to wait until you get back. It’s a good response. Solid. Foolproof.
And it dissolves the second you open the door.
He’s there, not vanished in the disappearing act you were hoping for, and all that want flares up again the moment you see him. He’s in casual dress like what he wore to the club—boots, jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, balaclava. His posture’s more relaxed, one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other hanging at his side. You meet his eyes, and your regret mixes with desire welling up inside you.
It’s that intense gaze from the helo, the brief but incendiary look from Berlin, the thoughtful gaze from the gym. You’re drawn up in it immediately, and this time, there’s no possibility of looking away. Ghost has you locked in.
He takes in the sight of you, dressed in your civvies, backpack on your shoulders, and raises his brows. “Going somewhere?”
Your mouth is cotton-dry, and you’re proud of yourself for putting a little syntax together. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m headed out.”
Right now, you should say. I’m going out right this second and I cannot be stopped. Do not engage.
But you don’t say that. You leave the words as they are, hanging between the two of you. In that moment, you’re two opposing fronts of contradictions—you want him to go, stay, talk, stay silent, touch you, leave you alone.
Ghost seems to sense this, that you’re not making any move to either speak to him or push him away. He doesn’t get into your space, staying right where he is while looking at you with his head slightly tilted. “Can I come in a sec?”
No. “Yes.” Please.
You take a step back, allowing him to walk into your room. His presence seems to fill it, like there’s too much of him and too little space to contain it. He closes the door behind himself, then finds a spot against the wall (the rare section that isn’t covered by posters or mementos) and leans against it. Still, still giving you your space.
You’re all nerves, waiting for him to speak, yet feeling like you should say something—to get all your feelings out in the open, exposed and waiting for him to pick over and do with what he will. But your anxiety and silence wins out, and instead you fidget, trying to find a point in the room to fix your gaze. Ghost takes all your attention though, holding it in a firm, invisible grip that can’t be broken no matter what you do. You get now, more than ever, why people are so scared of him when they end up at the wrong end of his skill set—he immobilizes them, rendering them completely unable to do a damn thing.
He watches you for an agonizingly long moment, then sighs. “Look, I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy, but Soap said you were around,” he says. Ghost doesn’t trail off or leave a space in his words for you to fill in the blanks. It’s a good thing—no place for you to misinterpret him—but it suddenly leaves you terrified at the possibility of what he’s going to say.
“Just for a little bit,” you hear yourself say, voice subdued and small.
He nods. “Then I’ll just get it out now before you go. More or less a question.”
Fuck. You feel a strange, uncomfortably cold sensation curl up tight and tense in your stomach. The feeling of standing at the edge of a long drop, knowing you have no choice but to let go.
His eyes are locked on yours, unrelenting, pinning. And then he says, “Do you have feelings for me?”
Right. No way to misinterpret.
You suck in a breath—a gasp, jerking at the question even though you knew it was coming.
You could lie. It’d be easy to do, just a few movements of tongue, jaw, and lips. No, I don’t. Three easy words. You could say you appreciate him as a teammate, as a professional, as someone you can trust in tough situations. He has your back; you have his. Anything beyond that is too much, to far outside of the commanding officer-subordinate hierarchy.
But you can’t lie to him. He’ll know. He’s trained in looking for tells, for the slightest quirk to denote that you’re holding back the truth. That, and you don’t want to lie to him.
Instead, quietly, you say, “Yes,” and inwardly brace for impact. Any kind of dressing-down from your C.O. and reminder of responsibilities and duties; or on a personal level, that Ghost doesn’t do relationships. You’re tensed up, waiting for its inevitable blow and all the shrapnel that’s definitely going to land right in your heart.
“Oh,” he says.
Oh.
Just one syllable, said deceptively, uncharacteristically soft. It belies so many things—possibilities, dangers. This man is fucking complicated.
And then he takes a step toward you. Just one. Just enough to close the gap that many inches. You don’t back up, but you’re too afraid to walk to him, unsure of what’s coming next.
He’s looking down at you, gaze passive, calm, and strangely open. You’ve learned new and interesting ways to read his eyes since you fell for him, but this one has an unknown definition, a kinesic oddity that you can’t translate.
And for a moment, you let yourself hope.
Then, he says your name. Not Ladybird. Not your rank. Your name. The sound of it is a rush in your ears, in your whole head, through every artery, vein, and capillary. He takes another step, slower than the first, drawing in closer before he says, “Do you want this?”
You nod. There’s nothing else you can do. You take a step toward him, looking up into his eyes and trying to read everything there. “Do you?” you ask. You’re still waiting for the rejection, as though Ghost is the type of person to lure you in only to shut you down.
Rejection doesn’t come. Instead, he steps forward to close the gap, one of his hands finding your waist.
“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
Holy shit.
You stare at him in surprise, and the look on your face must be ridiculously easy to read. His other hand goes up under your chin, tilting your face toward him. The touch of his fingers is exactly like you imagined, the callouses on his thumb brushing over the soft skin underneath your jaw, causing you to shiver.
Ghost leans in close to your left side, skull’s grin close to your ear, and whispers, “Thought you hated me. Every time I looked at you, you’d look away.”
A near-hysterical laugh bubbles up in your throat, and comes out as a compressed, breathless giggle. All that time, you were so hopelessly in love with him, you couldn’t look at him without feeling like your heart was about to give out; and he interpreted that as dislike.
“God, no,” you say. “Total opposite.”
He laughs in your ear, and the sound chases out the remainder of that cold tension, replacing it with a newfound heat that feels good. “Wish I’d known sooner,” he says, and one of his hands goes up to push a strap of your backpack off your shoulder.
You ease out of it, dropping it to the floor, before reaching out and tentatively touching his waist in return. Through the fabric of his hoodie, you can feel how solid he is underneath, and you run your hand along his side in silent wonder.
Ghost moves back suddenly, and you only have a second to question why before the light goes out, leaving you in muted darkness permeated only by the bare sliver of sunlight filtering through your curtain. One hand finds your waist again, pulling you close, walking you toward your bed.
All you can think is no fucking way over and over, even as the back of your legs hit the side of the bed, and Ghost is lowering you down. Your back touches the mattress, head on the pillow, and Ghost is over the top of you, his hands bracketing your head. He looks down at you, mostly in shadow, only the bright white of the skull motif visible in the darkness. Then, his eyes flicker to his left, and he abruptly snorts.
You furrow your brow. “What?”
Wordlessly, his hand moves to the right of your head, and he picks up your phone.
Your phone which is still on, showing the emoji-heavy conversation with Soap. Ghost flips the phone to show you the last text he sent.
Skull emoji, kiss, black heart, red heart, ladybug, eggplant, peach, confetti ball, birthday cake.
“What the fuck, Soap?” you say under your breath, grabbing the phone from Ghost. You quickly turn it off and shove it onto your bedside table, groaning in embarrassment.
Ghost shakes his head, and unlike Soap, he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he brings the situation right back on the rails with one hand going up under your shirt. Then, he says, “Close your eyes a second.”
You do, without question. You hear a faint rustle of fabric, and then his lips press against yours.
You gasp against his mouth, and that thrill you felt at hearing your name seems to rush back through you twofold at the thought that he took his mask off for you. He kisses you firmly, a guarantee that this is what he wants. You reach up with one hand, combing your fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp and drawing out a quiet groan. He smells like standard-issue soap and laundry detergent, and the faint spice of cologne only just clinging to his skin. The feeling of kissing him is dizzying, entrancing, and the sound of it just hammers home that this is happening to you, in your room, with him.
He pulls back just a little, kissing a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your chin, then your jaw, and up to your ear. The sensation makes you shiver again, arching up into him involuntarily. You hear and feel an amused huff of breath, before he says, “What do you want?”
Good god, what don’t you want?
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “Anything. Whatever you want.”
He nods against your neck, then tilts his head up to press a kiss to your temple. “Tell me if it’s too much, or if there’s something you don’t like. Communicate.”
You grin, mostly at the sotto voce version of his command voice. “Yes, sir.”
He huffs a laugh and continues kissing down your neck, down to the hemline of your shirt. Undressing comes as an easy next step, shoes off first (and they were on the bed, ugh), and then Ghost pulls your shirt up; you lift yourself enough to help him pull it over your head. In the darkness, he does the same, and you watch his silhouette remove his hoodie, then pull his shirt over his head and drop it off the side of the bed. You can’t see his face, but the faint beam of sunlight touches his hair and brings out a hint of pale gold. It feels like a secret shared between you, adding to that warmth building up inside.
He leans back down, kissing down your sternum to the upper hem of your sports bra. He starts to go lower, and you decide then that you’d like to take at least a little initiative.
“Wait,” you whisper. “Come back up here.”
He does, like he’s accustomed to obeying your orders rather than the other way around. You reach up and touch his chest, eager to feel this part of him, the one he typically buries under layers of clothing and gear. He sighs at your touch, head dropping down to rest on the pillow beside you.
He’s firm and toned with well-honed muscle earned through endless missions and exercise. At the same time, the skin of his chest is surprisingly soft—even the scattered network of scars and keloids that mark his body. You feel old and new wounds, some still raised as they heal, some concave with age. They’re long, short, thick, thin, orderly, and jagged. Starbursts of bullet wounds, hard lines of cuts, spatters of shrapnel, textured lines of old stitches. His whole torso tells a long, tragic story from cover to cover, chest to back.
But he leans into this read of him, letting you feel every scar, every painful moment. His breathing is steady in your ear, giving way to the occasional sigh as your fingers trail over his skin.
In turn, he touches you. You don’t have even a fraction of his scars, but you have a few he can note. You know when he touches them, by the way his touch lingers, learning each one. It feels reverential, or communal—the two of you engaging in a silent trust exercise. He doesn’t ask about them, and neither do you. All of that is for another time.
Ghost presses a kiss to your shoulder, then pushes up until he’s over top of you again. His free hand goes down to the waistline of your jeans, finger tracing teasingly over the zipper. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” you say, breathless. As if you’d say anything else.
He undoes the button, then the zipper, slowly pulling your jeans to your hips, then removing them entirely. He sits up on the edge of the bed for a moment, removing his boots, then his jeans. You lay there, watching him move, feeling your arousal start to grow and burn like a low flame.
When he touches you again, you silently agree that you wish you’d said or done something sooner. It’s bliss. He’s gentle with you, mindful even, in a way you’ve never experienced or anticipated from someone like him. He helps you out of your bra, letting you pull it all the way off before his hands palm your breasts in slow, deliberate movements. It’s an extension of his exploratory touches, learning your body inch by inch.
Your breathing quickens, and Ghost looks up at you in what you guess is concern. “Doing alright?” he asks.
Your face grows hot, and you nod, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I just don’t know what to do.”
It’s not like you haven’t had sex before, but sex with him feels completely different, like it doesn’t belong in the same category. You’ve never wanted someone this badly, or had someone respond to you like this. It’s almost overwhelming, but Ghost reaches up and combs some of your hair away from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Lie back a bit,” he instructs. “And tell me if you need me to stop.”
You do as he says, leaning up against the pillows as he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your torso to your hips. He’s a shadow moving over you, long and languid, and every touch just adds to the mounting heat. When his fingers touch the hem of your underwear, you shiver in anticipation, then arch your hips to give him a little leverage in removing them. In one motion, you’re exposed to him, even in the dark. Yet after touching him, and him touching you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. If anything, this feels safe. This feels right.
His hands go to your hips, then run slowly along the outer sides of your thighs. You think he might fulfill that fantasy from earlier, fingering you until you’re a mess, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure with his skilled hands.
Which is why it surprises the hell out of you when he goes lower, until his head is between your thighs, sunlight leaving gold stripes along his back.
“Ghost,” you gasp.
He looks up at you, and now more than ever, you wish you could see his face. You only see the faint shine of his eyes, but at that moment, it’s enough.
Then he spreads you, and licks a stripe from your opening to your clit.
If you were entertaining any thoughts before, any fantasies carefully curated in those rare hours of alone time, they flee in that single movement. Even the Ghost of your imagination never did this, tasting and savoring you in long, slow laps that make your whole brain short out like a blown fuse. The sound is goddamn obscene, especially as he leans in close and starts to lap at your clit. It’s a shock of sound in the silence, louder than even your own noises when you got yourself off.
Your right hand finds his head, fingers running through his hair as he licks you. He alternates between short laps and long strokes, tongue circling around your clit, teasing you, making you shudder and moan. It’s frustrating and fucking heavenly, the sensation of ebb and flow, receding and rushing waves of heat building up then flowing back.
Right when you think you can’t take the teasing anymore, he switches tactics. The teasing abruptly ends, and Ghost gets relentless.
You moan way too loud when he sucks at your clit, tongue swirling around it, the sound of his mouth on you loud as a gunshot. You swear they have to hear it down the hallway, or anywhere on base. At this point, though, you really don’t care who hears you, because they don’t have Ghost between their legs, getting them off in ways no deity ever intended.
Then his fingers join his mouth, index tracing circles around your entrance, dipping in slowly, tauntingly.
“Fuck.” The word is sharp in the air, as you arch at the sensation.
It’s too much; it’s not enough.
He tilts his head up a little, but when he speaks, you feel his warm breath ghost over your sex. “Let me hear you,” he says, words drawn straight out of your fantasies. Every door containing that imaginary version of Ghost is unlocked, every bulkhead breached—that Ghost and this one are one in the same.
And when he pushes that first finger into you, you follow his order to the letter.
It comes out as a broken wail, cut off when he starts thrusting and licking you in alternate strokes. His pace quickens, merciless, sharp eyes watching you from the shadows as your head rolls back on the pillow, chest heaving to catch a single solid breath. Your hands drop to your sides, fisting the sheets just to have something to hang onto, any kind of anchor as Ghost guides you through a tempest.
You moan his name, last consonant catching on a sob of pleasure when he starts to add a second finger. Only then does he pause, and the absence of his mouth is stark.
Then he says your name, temporarily drawing you out of the cumulonimbus of arousal you’re flying through, briefly bringing you back to earth.
You look down at him, the silhouette of his head, small locks of hair sticking up from where your fingers combed through. You see him tilt his head to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, and his voice rolls out like a dull roar of thunder in your ears. “It’s Simon,” he says. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Somehow, hearing his real name in the midst of all this is almost too much. Like the last little vestige of a play on stage falling away and revealing the inner workings of the backstage, all the ropes and pullies holding the show together. He’s more exposed now, more raw, more human.
You reach down, trembling hand brushing over his cheek, over stubble and scar tissue, and the soft skin of a very real face.
“Simon,” you whisper. It sounds like a confession.
He doesn’t reply, but you feel him smile against your hand, briefly turning his head to press a kiss against your palm. Then he’s lowering himself down again, coaxing you out of the eye of the storm and back into the maelstrom. Two fingers thrust and curl, filling you, leaving you empty, touching places that send bolts of pleasure through you.
Your pulse becomes the thunder of the helo’s blades, your body trembling with midair turbulence. Simon fucks you on his fingers, tongue lathing over your clit, mouth fucking worshiping you. He takes you to that precipice, the long fall, the drop through cloud cover to a faintly-marked point on the earth.
The step off the edge feels like perfect, natural progression.
Your orgasm sweeps through you from toe to tip, a roll of white-out pleasure shaking you, wringing a cry out of your mouth that makes Simon fuck you harder. His fingers don’t let up, working you through the tidal wave, taking you to shore on the other side.
You’re boneless at the end, slumping back on the pillow and panting, shivering, taking stock of your limbs and extremities as they each come back online after the outage. You only vaguely register the feeling of Simon moving on the bed, coming up to lay beside you.
He murmurs your name, then kisses you, and you can smell and taste yourself on him. Your hand goes up to run along his jawline, one rogue thought telling you, yeah, you can cut glass with it.
How everything gets so gentle afterwards is beyond you. Simon’s hand is on your face, thumb brushing the soft skin under your right eye. You can feel his erection against your leg, and somewhere in the back of your mind—still tingling with pleasure, shimmering bright and brilliant—you know how you’re going to take initiative.
You break the kiss just for a moment, delighting in the soft sigh of protest you hear and feel against your cheek. Then you lean in close, pitching your voice low like his, hoping it has the same effect on him.
“Hope you don’t have any plans this weekend,” you say, brushing your hand over his shoulder.
You feel him smile against your skin, and he shakes his head.
“Thought you were heading out,” he says.
“Only if you’re going with me.”
One arm goes around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzles against your neck. “We have some time, though, right?” his voice slides over you, suggestion clear and presented like a gift.
God, yeah you do.
---
Somewhere in between rounds, your phone goes off on your bedside stand.
Once.
Twice.
You don’t hear it, and the short buzz is drowned out by moans and the soft slap of skin on skin. When Simon makes a move like he’s going to check on it, you hook him back in place with your leg around his waist, pulling him in close, then kissing him silent. He falls into it, all too happy to oblige.
So you miss the skull and ladybug emojis, then the volume symbol.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod mw2#simon ghost riley x you#em dash and italics party is here to staaaay#can you believe this was going to be longer#am i super happy with it? not totally but it was p fun
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What Are They Like in Bed 18+
AU Everyone is 18+ These are just some ideas I've had, subject to change as I read more of the story. Minors DNI.
Posted: 03/05/23 || Edited:--
I don't have the first years listed because honestly to me they don't give off the vibes that they fuck. They might have sex but it's more experimental and trying to figure out what they actually like in bed.
Word Count:3.2k
Heartslabyul
Book: Read
Riddle: Probably a very dedicated lover. Takes the time to learn your "rules" aka what you like and don't like. Does not fuck, like you are having sex, but it is not fucking. Lovemaking is probably a better way to put it. Can be a little selfish or aggressive when stressed. Surprisingly confident and self-assured. Excellent communication skills. Does not seem overly adventurous in normal circumstances. You'll likely have to schedule when you can have sex, he’s very busy so spontaneous sex doesn’t seem to be a thing with him. Probably has his go-to positions that he does well but not much deviation from that. However, maybe on occasion, if you've been "bad"...be prepared to be collared and relearn his rules. Not going to let you finish until he's certain you've learned your lesson. Really good with aftercare. Has snacks and refreshments on standby, helps you get cleaned up and dressed after. His room is probably really well prepared beforehand. Flower petals or just flowers, candles, music; very much so setting the mood.
Trey: He has an oral fixation. Surprisingly rough. He’s going to hold your face and make you look at him while he’s using you. Likes to see the expressions you make when he slams into you. If he’s hitting it from behind you’re getting your ass smacked and he’s probably going to use your hair as a handle or hold onto your throat; unless he’s pressing your face down into the sheets/pillows. Likely going to put you into a mating press. Does not like being called daddy, surprisingly. Is going to look down at you with a smirk while biting his lip. Going to shower you with degrading praises (that’s my good little slut, etc.). If you ever didn't want it rough he'd likely be a very sensuous lover. Slow deep strokes that rock you to your core till he had you crying out in pleasure. After sex, he seems like the type to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while showering you with quick, soft kisses.
Cater: Switch. Very vocal. Into role play and would dress up for it. Can use his signature spell but would probably be more of a finisher than the main event. Is down for making a sex tape or taking pictures. Wouldn't post them but would like to keep them for the memories. Would sign your ass or crotch with some variation of "Cay Cay was here" Likes to switch positions frequently. Into public sex/sneaky play. Will shower you with praise, but could just as easily degrade you. Really likes when you wear cute/sexy lingerie or underwear for him. Would love to receive nudes or lewds from you throughout the day, even if he’s somewhere where he can’t react or respond. Would return the favor. Likes to hold your head/hair when you go down on him. Will send you links to whatever crazy position he wants to try next, maybe some lingerie he wants to see you in. After sex with him will mainly be cuddling in bed and scrolling through magicam. Might have water or snacks but wouldn't be something he always has on hand.
Savanaclaw
Book: Read
Leona: Either gonna make you do all the work or fuck you till your legs give out. Lots of biting. Really into oral, giving, and receiving. Can and will growl while using his mouth/fucking you. Likes to be told how good he’s making you feel. Will purposely leave hickies/love marks where everyone can see. Into cuddle fucking and lazy sex. Will fuck you sneakily in public if the chance arises. 7 help you if you end up having hate sex with this man. RIP your lower half. Really rocks the messy after-sex look/glow. Aftercare can be sweet but minimal. Maybe a bath/shower together where he kisses his marks but after that, sir is going to sleep, though you are welcome to join him for some sleepy cuddles. Lowkey jealous, highkey possessive. If he feels too many people are looking at you he's the kind to come up behind you and wrap an arm around your shoulders/hips and lean against you. A not-so-subtle kiss on the cheek/lips. Definitely going to smack/grab your ass so everyone knows who you belong to herbivore.
Ruggie: Between class, his side jobs, and running errands for Leona this man has mastered the quickie. Never knows when the chance is gonna come again so he does not care where he does you. Quick, shallow thrusts. Will use his hand efficiently to make sure you get off too. Will probably have you lick his fingers clean of your mess. Going to leave a small mark or two on you. Could be hidden or visible, depends on what positions you were in. Into biting. Going to tease you while fucking you, could also be having a perfectly normal conversation. Then help you get dressed before going about business as usual. Would probably be into having you use your hand/mouth while he's doing homework and vice versa. Lot of stamina so be prepared for multiple rounds throughout the day. Always gives you a kiss at the end, possibly going to smack your ass when he leaves but not one to draw attention to himself. When he's not in a rush though, probably a very tender lover. Very generous with foreplay. Going to take his time till you both are satisfied. Has snacks in his room and seems like he would be very affectionate before going to sleep
Octavinelle
Book: Read
Azul: Does not like missionary or other positions where you can look at him. If you want those kinds of positions, he’ll likely want to blindfold you, or keep some clothes on. Likes to use restraints. Probably makes really cute faces/noises while fucking. Just very expressive, you’re going to know if he’s feeling good. If he’s in a bad mood he’d be a mean fuck. Just being rough and degrading you. But for the most part, he’d be a very gentle lover. Doing his very best to make you feel good. He’s very thorough and likes to be close. Lots of skin-to-skin. Prefers when you take control, he’s got enough to stress about, just let him enjoy himself. Might be able to convince him for some under the desk fun in the VIP room. Would definitely bend you over that desk after hours. Stamina would probably be lacking so he's more of a one and done kind of guy. Would not use his tentacles on you unless you were blindfolded and he was sure you couldn't peek. Amazing aftercare, going to want you to shower him in praise, and he'll return the favor,might even hum or sing a little. Will eventually untangle himself from your arms to get some snacks. Expect to always have the best seat in the lounge with an exclusive discount. Aren't you just so fortunate?
Jade: Will tease the fuck out of you until you are begging for release. Does not mind using toys but would prefer his fingers/tongue. The type to make you ask for permission and say thank you after he makes you cum. Likes to watch you play with yourself to figure out what you like then improve upon it. Teases you about blushing, your expressions, and any noise you make while he’s watching. Will somehow look perfectly put together even if you look like you just finished a marathon. Likes to stay mostly clothed during sex, not because he’s insecure, but so he can tease you for falling apart at how good you feel. Will ‘accidentally’ give you marks that can be seen in uniform. Probably going to gently bully you when you’re cum drunk. Would do his best to work you up when he knows you can’t do anything just to watch you squirm. King of aftercare. Like sir has snacks and refreshments. Will run you a bath/shower and clean you up before tucking you in for some well earned rest. Lowkey jealous/possessive. If anyone gets too close he'll be sure to make a note to remind you later why you belong to him.
Floyd: His mood will determine the kind of sex you have/how much work you're gonna do. Apathetic mood could lead to him just kinda going through the motions if he’s not making you do all the work. This would probably be a quickie, might not even cum, before either passing out or doing whatever he was doing before. If he's in a good mood though…prepare to be fucked silly. Going to go until he is tired, like a full body work out, and (un)fortunately he has plenty of stamina and energy. Multiple rounds, switching positions, be prepared for every hole to get a turn. Probably going to turn you into a pretzel to try and find what feels best. Will tease you if you say you're tired or need a break. Will cover you in bites, likely some accidental bruising. Going to make a mess of his partner, just cum everywhere. Surprisingly good aftercare. Not running you a bath but he's definitely cuddling you after, talking about how much fun that was and how good it felt. Definitely gets jealous if other people give you too much attention. Will remind you whose shrimpy you are.
Scarabia
Book: Read
Kalim: He is down to try anything once. A really fun lover. Really high energy, pleasure seeking to the max. Likes to try new positions frequently. Better stretch before because sir will bend you like a pretzel. Lots of spontaneous sex. He's going to say or do something that will have both of you needing to take a laugh break. Very affectionate but also needy. Might accidentally hurt you while trying out some overly complicated new position but would stop, apologize, and take some time to make sure you're okay before continuing. Very encouraging when it comes to exploring your kinks and fantasies. Probably a very playful lover, lots of teasing touches and soft kisses along your body. Not the best at foreplay but A for effort and always trying to improve his techniques for you. He does want you to feel good but sometimes he can forget to communicate and check to make sure so you'll have to be vocal. After sex he's going to want lots of cuddles and pillow talk. Would likely have snacks and refreshments brought to you two so you can stay in bed together a little longer. Would feed you snacks between playful kisses and compliments.
Jamil: Will take whatever role their partner prefers. Is actually a dom/top. Enormous people pleaser. Really into pleasing their partner, like to the point where his pleasure gets pushed to the side. Lots of foreplay. Fingers, mouth, toys, does not care so long as you feel good. Really quick to pick up on all the little things that drive you wild and will use all his skill to give you the best orgasm ever. If you let him let loose…be prepared for an almost 180. Will make you into his living stress ball. Hard, fast, and deep. Into master/slave play. Wants you to wear a collar, maybe some restraints, def wants you to call him master or sir. He wants you to pamper him, let him sit back and enjoy himself. You're gonna be sore, either from him driving into you like a wild animal, or from making you ride him till your legs give up. He’s flexible. Probably going to pull your hair or choke you. Going to call you names. Really good with aftercare. Will help you clean up, would make you a meal and shower you in praises regardless.
Pomefiore
Book: Unread
Vil: He’s a bit of a mean lover. He's going to be a bit demanding and selfish, though it's not completely intentional. He just knows what he likes and how he likes it. Seems like he would enjoy some unique positions that would require you to stretch beforehand. Likes to wear/likes it when you wear nice lingerie. He has at least one mirror pointed at his bed because he likes to watch. Loves having his body worshiped, he’s more of a taker than a giver. You’re still going to love it though, because it’s him and who wouldn’t love that? He is going to let you know if you’re not doing it right. He’s going to fuck you while he makes you watch your reflection in the mirror, calling you all sorts of little names and insults. Seems like he would be into master/pet play. Somehow looks flawless after sex, like he’s going to be sweating and panting but still look picture perfect somehow. He probably has some nice mood lighting. Aftercare is going to be more so you cleaning him up. If you did good he’ll give you a few compliments, but he’ll also critique what you can do better next time. If you’re lucky he might hand feed you a snack or let you sleep next to him.
Rook: Be prepared for passion. He is going to take his time, exploring every inch of your body, learning every sensitive and weak spot you have available. He’s going to take his time teasing you, really into edging because he can’t get enough of how you look right before you cum. King of foreplay. Could spend hours between your legs just teasing and working you up till you’re ready for him. He’s quite literally going to be showering you in praises and compliments about how sublime you look in the throes of pleasure. You better hydrate and stretch before because this man has insane stamina and will go for multiple rounds until you are absolutely exhausted. He likes overstimulation, just unable to stop himself with how beautiful you look when you cum, wanting to make you do it again and again till you’re begging for mercy. He’s a very vocal lover. Probably a voyeur and will secretly watch you pleasuring yourself so that when it’s his turn he has an idea of what you like he can go off of and improve on. Might be into a bit of predator/prey, specifically hunting you down before ravaging you till morning. Going to be very sweet and loving after. Kissing all over your body while cleaning you up, making sure you're hydrated and have snacks before cuddling up to you for sleep. Would definitely give you a full body massage. You're going to feel very safe in his arms.
Ignihyde
Book: Unread
Idia: He’s a very shy lover. Very self conscious in person so he's going to need lots of encouragement. He's going to prefer you on top or in control because he doesn't believe he can actually make you feel good on his own. Very clumsy sex. Even if he has experience he usually doubts himself and his abilities. Makes plenty of cute noises, has trouble keeping quiet. He's going to bite you. Prefers to use toys on you, might even design a few custom toys for you to use. Might be into cockwarming while he's gaming, or even just having you ride/blow him. You could challenge him to 1v1 where the loser has to make the winner cum. He loves sexting. And when he sexts its like a complete 180 to how he is in person. Expect lots of dirty talk. He's not going to send you nudes or lewds but he'll love any that you send, especially if you complain something for him. Probably would like you to wear some kind of toy that he can control from a distance, just teasing you relentlessly while he does. After sex he's going to be very awkward and unsure of what to do. But he's going to try so be encouraging and supportive.
Diasomnia
Book: Unread
Malleus: BDE personified. This man is a god in bed and he knows it. He is going to worship every inch of your body. He’s going to take his time prepping you, and he knows exactly what to do with his hands and tongue. He’ll let you hold his horns while he goes down on you. Sex with this man may as well be a marathon in and of itself. He has a long fuse and an insane amount of stamina. He is the type to put your legs over his shoulders and sink his entire length into you slowly, smirking the entire time as he watches your reaction. This man is not a bed shaker, he is a bed breaker. The entire time he’s going to look like he’s barely breaking a sweat, smirking down at you and cooing the sweetest praises that he can. He’s so loving during sex, just caressing your body while pounding into it. He’s going to bite you and cover you in his marks so everyone knows exactly who you belong to. He’s not jealous but he is possessive, he does not like sharing your attention with people, you are his child of man. Going to hold you to his chest and gently nuzzle you to sleep.
Lilia: The biggest fucking tease. He’s the kind to tie you to the bed and blindfold you so he can spend hours just teasing you till you’re actually about to lose your mind, begging for any kind of release. The entire time he’ll just be commenting on how cute you look and sound. Seems like he would be into temperature play, specifically running ice cubes along your body while you whimper and squirm under him. He’s surprisingly rough, likes biting. He’s very vocal, you will know when he’s enjoying it. Complete wildcard, like he probably has some really out there kinks. Never know when he’s going to come up behind you and kiss your neck, run his hand along your thigh, just discretely grope you in public. His oral and overall technique will be flawless, like will actually have your legs shaking after. Has a lot of stamina and can go multiple rounds if one isn’t enough. Probably likes edging. Seems like he’d be great with aftercare, just like a really doting partner. Going to praise you for even the smallest thing. He is going to tuck you into bed after.
Silver: He seems very vanilla, like he’s good at what he does but there’s really nothing out there in the bedroom with him. Sir is making love, not fucking. Just very gentle with his partner. Surprising amount of stamina. He’s a very intimate lover. Lots of kisses,eye contact, and just overall being close to you. Will make eye contact when he is going down on you, likes you to look up at him when you return the favor. He’s definitely focused on making sure that you feel good and are enjoying it. Would probably bury his face in your neck and chest when he feels really good, has some nice breathy moans. After he’s going to just cover your body in gentle kisses while he helps clean you up before holding you close to him and drifting off the sleep with the sweetest pillow talk. He is just going to make you feel loved.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst smut#twisted wonderland smut#riddle rosehearts smut#trey clover smut#cater diamond smut#leona kingscholar smut#ruggie bucchi smut#azul ashengrotto smut#jade leech smut#floyd leech smut#kalim al asim smut#jamil viper smut#vil schoenheit smut#rook hunt smut#idia shroud smut#malleus draconia smut#lilia vanrouge smut#silver smut
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how long the gang takes to get ready for the day⛅️🌤️
i just know cherry be hogging the bathroom and she’s actually so real for that cause i do it too🥰
ponyboy:
he gives a nighttime shower guy
used to having two brothers to fight with in the morning so he’s honestly pretty fast
my guy hits snooze sooo much it’s actually crazy
so because of this he’s gotta rush to get ready
but at this point he’s used to it which is cool
we love an adaptable king
AND he always pulls up to school looking decent so 7/10
johnny:
ngl i actually don’t know how he’d be getting ready
he just spawns in wearing full greaser attire complete w a switchblade accessory ‼️🥰🤩🤪
but he’d probably only need like ten minutes but bro loves like a slug
he just ain’t a morning person AT ALL and that’s okay😔✊
he shows up looking kinda scruffy but that’s okay it’s for the vibe fs 5/10
sodapop:
he seems like the type to shamelessly hog the bathroom
pony and darry hate it sm LMAO
actually wakes up at a decent time so he can shower and get dressed and everything
he hates the feeling of being rushed so he’s got a whole set routine
but if he gets off the routine everything come crashing down and he ends up being like an hour late😭😭
8/10
darry:
early riser
probably cause of necessity yk he’s a working boy
but also he loves having the bathroom to himself for once and take his time
he also cooks breakfast so that’s kinda a way for him to wake up slowly
outfits are a little basic but he pulls them off so we know he ain’t wasting anytime deciding which solid black t shirt to wear that day😭
he is honestly goals 10/10
dally:
THIS MAN
he will claim so MUCH that he just wakes up and comes out looking perfect
but he self absorbed for sure
you cannot watch that beginning scene of the movie where my guy STRUTS down the street
bro really thinks he’s that guy😭💀
so yes, he does spend a solid amt of time getting ready, picking outfits, rings, the whole shebang
but if you bring it up you’re dead😔
breaks down if he has to share the bathroom and gives up
he needs his space ig? 6/10
two-bit:
my guy has ONE OUTFIT
different variations but the same outfit nonetheless😭😭😭
so that takes zero time out of his morning
his hair is super greased up so bc of that he probably takes a normal amt of time
honestly pretty chill when it comes to sharing a bathroom
BUT still hyper asf so there’s that
rip to anyone in the way of the fridge when he’s hungry for breakfast🙏
7/10 low effort but still eats
steve
probably takes a lot of time
and pony would hate it sm
those “complicated swirls” ARENT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART
or for those running late
lowk has a bit of a big ego so he puts a lot of effort into his appearance
loves him some chocolate cake for brekky
6/10🙏
THIS WAS FUN OK BYEEEE‼️🫶🤪
#outsiders hcs#dallas winston#the outsiders#the outsiders sodapop#johnny cade#ponyboy curtis#steve randle#sodapop curtis#darry curtis#two bit mathews
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Limelight - LS18
Summary: “you’ll get your flowers my dear.”
Warnings: some shameless flirting, a cocky oc
Pairings: lance stroll x oc
Word Count: 1311
She recalled the first time she ever encountered the Stroll family.
It was at a joint gala to raise money for children with terminal illnesses and her parents, who were incredibly notable in the car collection and curating community, wished to donate a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 in a cherry red colour. It was one of the most expensive items up for grabs and had all its original interior in pristine condition. It gained quite a number of public attention, for a good reason, and all donations were given to the foundation they were sponsoring. It was that night that a young Piper Broadstone had encountered a young Lance Stroll, the boy in his late teens and too cool to speak to girls.
It wasn’t until years later that the two families attended yet another high profile event, this time with Piper placing a bet and winning a one-on-one date and drive with Lance Stroll himself. She wasn’t too sure on how she would organise this one-on-one date as she found herself drinking too much champagne and dancing with her mother and friends. She honestly could have approached Lance but instead chose to admire from a distance, sneaking a look whenever she could.
Piper had honestly forgotten about the auction until she received a message request in her private messages on her Instagram.
lance_ stroll: you know, if you really wanted to come for a cruise or a date you could have just messaged me on this
and its free too
Piper admired his cheeky flirting and it seemed that he was also somewhat eager to see what the date had to offer. Of course it was all up to Lance to provide the date and to showcase his driving skills, all Piper had to do was dress the part and just show up.
itspiperbroadstone: i did it for the kids, mr stroll, don’t let it get to your head
kind of silly that you had to ask for an auction to get me to go on a date with you. you could have messaged me on this
lance_stroll: bold of you to assume i want a date with you
itspiperbroadstone: why else would you message me at nine at night out of nowhere?
lance_stroll: touche
tomorrow at 11am, casual, braided hair may be best (car purposes only)
do you prefer lunch or dinner for the date?
itspiperbroadstone: we love a dominant king
lets do food after the drive tomorrow, you know, make sure it’s all in one day otherwise you might fall in love with me
lance_stroll: im certain you’ll be falling for me
our parents will love the combined fortune
itspiperbroadstone: old money nepo babies
pick me up in the vantage xoxo
i want flowers too
i paid 50k i should at least get some flowers
lance_stroll: you’ll get your flowers my dear
Casual to someone like Piper was a lot different to someone that didn’t live in an expensive penthouse in Canada. Of course Piper understood that casual was just a term to dress a lot more relaxed but she still needed to dress to impress. She followed the latest trends and embarrassingly fed into fast fashion so she was dressed all in just a pair of jeans with a baggy graphic shirt to pair. It was a nice sunny day so she neglected to bring a jacket as she walked out of her apartment complex, bidding her doorman a farewell and towards the Aston Martin Vantage she could only guess was Lance’s.
He was leaning against his car, also in a rather casual outfit in a pair of jeans, brown boots and an all grey shirt. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers, a mix of daisies, babies breath, camellias and a few other variations. He wore a large smile on his face as Piper approached, embracing the girl in a quick and gentle hug, a kiss to the cheek and then pulled away gracefully.
“I wasn’t too sure what flowers you liked so I got a bit of everything.” Lance confessed, though he had secretly looked through all of her social media to find some sort of hint. It was in her highlights.
“Thank you, Lance. They’re beautiful.” Piper hated to admit that she was blushing and instead hid her face in the flowers, disguising the action by sniffing the flowers. They smelled incredibly fresh. There was nothing like the smell of fresh flowers. “So, what have you got planned for us today?” Lance opened her door like a gentleman and held her flowers as she strapped herself in before closing the door when she was settled. He ran to the other side, climbing into the passenger seat and started his car, one of his prized possessions.
“Well, I have a couple of cars for me to drive you around in at the track and then I’ll see how you go-”
“Driving one? You're letting me drive a Formula One car?” Lance chuckled in response, pulling into the lane and heading towards the Montreal track.
“No, you can’t operate one of those. I’ve got a couple of other cars, much safer cars to take you in and for you to drive.” Lance’s eyes remained on the road for the most part as they drove through town. His car was enough to get some stairs and rightfully so; it was a beautiful car, anyone could appreciate that, and it was the biggest flex of all. Not many people owned a car such as the vantage, not even Piper of her family, though they did own a few Aston Martins. She looked out at the window, admiring the city she was born and raised in. The two settled into a peaceful silence as they continued to the track. It was not awkward, at least from Piper’s perspective.
The 'Date’ was great PR for not only Piper and Lance but for their families, for the charity in which the money from the bid was going to and for Formula One itself. There were film crews at the ready, organised photographers to capture the two in and out of the cars, cameras and microphones set up inside the cars to capture the reactions of the two.
Piper was genuinely enjoying herself, even though her braided hair was becoming a mess and she laughed rather obnoxiously in front of Lance.
Lance was also having a great time. He never really got to show off his skills in older modelled cars let alone with a pretty girl beside him. He liked to glance over as he drifted around a corner, watching her absolutely lose herself into the atmosphere. It was something he found himself wanting to see more, yearning to see more. So, he hated it when their drive had ended and it was Piper’s turn to drive.
She got into the first car, the pair strapping themselves in. She quickly posed for a camera pointing towards them and then turned on the ignition.
“You can drive stick?” Lance questioned, Piper only nodding in response before taking off. She had devised a plan, starting off slow to get Lance to think she was nervous. She took it easy around the corners before she found herself approaching the hairpin after turn nine. She started accelerating, going faster and faster by the second before drifting the car almost expertly around the hairpin and turn ten. She couldn’t wait to see the footage once it was released of Lance's reaction. She finished the circuit, stopping at the pit in front of the cameras and getting out, throwing her hands in the air almost as if she was a racer herself.
“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Lance questioned once the two of them were finally helmet free.
“My parents are car collectors and curators, you learn a thing or two.”
#f1 x oc#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll#lance stroll imagine#lance stroll x oc#formula one smut#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfic#formula one#formula 1
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give you my heart
summary: christmastime at graceland is hectic. you and elvis enjoy some quality time alone with each other by the fire after everything is said and done. some important conversations happen.
fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 )
rating: t to be on the safe side, i used the word cocked.
pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy variation ) x female reader
word count: 1846
warnings: elvis as santa. reader as mrs. claus. talk about elvis's health. basically the reader kind of taking the place of ginger alden if you're curious the time frame my mind went to. talk about marriage. brief mention of elvis's mother. potentially excessive talking to a baby belly.
author’s note: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays to those who don't and happy sunday to those who neither of those apply to. also happy hanukkah. anyway! so this is the tame piece i mentioned last night. special thanks to my lovely ladies of graceland for convincing me to write both pieces. the beginning few paragraphs are the same as the first dirtier fic so no you're not imagining that. you know the drill, imagine austin or real elvis, i'm not picky because i know who i imagined. might maybe have one more christmas-y/holiday themed fic up my sleeve but that's likely for right after the holidays. and yes i am posting this at 6am, i don't understand why my brain wouldn't let me go back to sleep either.
also if you want a tag for my later fics, or any of my fics in general just give me a heads up, i'm actually gonna try and start using one.
Christmastime at Graceland is always a bit of a packed house and one that is a- in your own opinion, bit of organized chaos. Between Priscilla bringing Lisa Marie, between every member of the Memphis Mafia- former and current- bringing their basic families and Elvis's own family it was a bit much to handle. Not for the first time you are so deliriously thankful for your fiance still having a relatively cordial at least nowadays relationship with Priscilla. You're pretty sure you would have been lost for the first two Christmases you had hosted and even for this one had you not had her to fall back on.
You're able to handle it though, flitting through rooms like a hummingbird, the swell of your stomach rounding out the red dress lined with white fur causing you to bump once or twice into the children running around and twice into Santa himself, causing him to run his hand across it, murmuring apologies to you and to your little one who gives him an answering kick that has him grinning even more than he already was under his fake beard. Your pregnancy, while giving you more energy than you thought was possible, sometimes also drains you more than you'd like during social engagements. Elvis warns all the adults ahead of time, tells them that things might be cut short if you're looking like you need to relax. You manage to make it a respectable three hours, even if by the end you find yourself sitting on one of the couches, rubbing at your belly enough that despite you moving to stand up shakily in your heels he's showing everyone out in record time.
Lisa and Priscilla are sound asleep upstairs as you find yourself curled up under a blanket on the rug in front of the fireplace with Elvis behind you supporting your back. One of his hands is rubbing small circles against your skin, watching as your child occasionally reacts with a kick that has him huffing a laugh against your neck and has you rolling your eyes. This is all you've really wanted today, for honestly the entire week as preparation for this soiree truly went into overdrive. Elvis might be taking a break from touring and from everything else to focus on his health a little and to focus on you and the child growing in you but he's a bit of a workhorse who doesn't know proper sleeping hours even on his best behavior. You're used to it and it makes times like this, makes these simple moments special.
You're both tired from today's festivities, him from running around after the kids and passing out gifts and you from just entertaining. Any other night after being as pulled apart from one another as you had been lately would have ended in some form of sex but it feels almost like too much effort for the pair of you. The baby within you keeps rolling about, the excitement from today and from Elvis's touch proving to be a combination to drive you a bit batty. Elvis wants to stay behind you, wants to be the rock you lean against but at the same time, he can't help the overwhelming urge he has to talk to your stomach, to kiss at it and marvel at how his girl, his future wife is growing another little one for him, an active little boy he hopes but he's alright giving his lil Yisa a little sister. He doesn't fight the urge after a while, after the fourth kick from your child has you huffing a little out your nose. With an agility you forget he has off stage he moves his body almost like a predator and you find his mouth placing a soft kiss to your belly as he speaks.
"Now ya listen here, it ain't nice to make mama hurt like that. Know ya jealous ya ain't out here enjoyin' the season but next year, lil one. Gonna be in our arms or running around the room. Or maybe you'll be in our arms when we get married. Have ourselves a Christmas wedding." He looks up at you, looking younger than his years. "'Less ya wanna be my wife sooner than that. Ya already got the ring and my big baby."
Your hand moves to his head, thankful he had taken the Santa hat off ages ago and you allow yourself to run your fingers through his hair. It’s a little sweaty still, but you figure it’s from the heat and the former hat. Elvis’s eyes flutter shut a little at the motion, the action being something comforting no matter who’s doing it. A smile plays on your lips before you shrug. “Your very big baby, wondering how much bigger I’m going to get- if I didn’t know any better I’d say there were two in there.” You pause and motion to the belly his head’s now resting on. “I’m not fitting into any wedding dress, sweetheart. Can’t have a wedding till this is all gone.”
Elvis laughs a little and rubs at your belly again, marveling at the kick he receives back, this time down toward the bottom of your stomach instead of toward the top. Maybe there was something to be said about your joke about there being two in there. He shakes his head before he speaks. “We can, ya just don’t wanna have everyone lookin’ at ya and realizin’ I’ve already got ya full of me ‘fore were married. ‘Sides, there’s always a courthouse one. Can do that for now, no fuss ‘n later on we can have the big ceremony with everyone.”
It’s not a bad thought, you think, allowing both of you the privacy of being married before everyone else knows, a truly rare thing that you figure would only serve to help your relationship rather than hinder it. Still, you’re wondering where all this is coming from, Elvis had been content to put a ring on you right before you found out you were pregnant and you had told him you wanted to have a Christmas wedding- a fact that had delighted him to no end at the time- but you hadn’t realized just how big you’d be around Christmas thus forcing you to put aside your plans.Your teeth worry at your lower lip before you say anything. “Just me dressed up in something nice, you dressed up in something nice and we just march down to the courthouse and say our I dos? No fuss.”
“Aw hell-” He starts, rubbing at his neck as he places another kiss to your stomach, murmuring something else before moving to sit up even as you want him to stay in your lap, just allowing you to stroke his hair. This had to mean business if he was turning down the chance to get it. “Look I know my mama's looking down on me right now and reminding me not to mess the one up. Already cocked it up a little giving you the little one early. Figure she'll come haunt me if I don't do what ya want me t'do. And I know you wanted a Christmas themed weddin’ but darlin’ I want ya to be my Mrs. Claus already. Want that ring on your finger to be our wedding ring. I’m bein’ impatient but hell- I don’t even want them questionin’ when you’re pushin’ out our baby whose it is. Just-” He pauses, and moves to cup your cheek, an action that causes you to nuzzle into his hand. “I wanna be able t’call ya my wife already. Wanna be your husband already.”
Not for the first time lately or even today you find your chest tightening at the love you feel for the man in front of you. He’s not perfect- God, don’t you know it and there’s a part of you in the back of your mind that’s prepared to eventually join Priscilla in being his ex-wife once you get married but it’s times like these, these simple times where he bares his soul to you that you’re reminded of why he’s the man you fell in love with.You bring your hand to rest over his and pull him into a soft kiss. “You’re that impatient, huh, big boy? You promise we wouldn’t make a fuss? That I can still have my wedding next year with you and I bouncing the baby between us during the ceremony?”
He nods solemnly. “If that’s what my baby wants, if that’s what my wife wants, already told ya, mama’ll come haunt me if I don’t do what ya want. I’ll make it so we’re in and out and I’ll get Joe or one of the boys to take some pictures and that’ll be it. No fuss, no fans, nothing but you, me and the- well the little one inside ya but that can’t be helped.”
You giggle softly, running your free hand across your stomach as if to comfort the baby and to just help ground yourself to think.It’s a perfect plan, you think, and you’ve got just the outfit that could work. “They’re probably open on the 27th, you know. If you’re real serious about making me your wife as quick as you can.”
The grin that forms on Elvis’s face makes him look like a giddy school boy or like every silly picture of him just doing this full face grin that to this day amuses you to no end. You had said the right thing by agreeing and his excitement feels a little contagious as he nods his head. “I was serious as anythin’, darlin’. Gonna- Gotta make the plans tomorrow mornin’ when everyone’s awake and gotta tell ‘Cilla she can’t leave just yet- gotta have Lisa and her, just to witness. Oh- This might be the best Christmas present you’ve given me. Don’t think ya ever gonna top this one.” He bends down and places another kiss to your stomach. “Your mama is perfect ya know that, so lucky t’have her as ya mama.”
You shake your head, marveling a bit at the joy and the silliness in the air before you grab at Elvis’s face and place another kiss to his lips. “They got a real silly daddy but I’m marrying him early as a late Christmas gift so guess I‘m just as silly. Can we take this upstairs, jolly ole Saint Elvis?”
Once again, Elvis stands up quicker than you forget he can sometimes and pulls you up and close to him as he peppers your face with kisses. “Of course, gotta make sure my wife is comfortable. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t? Can’t get started off on the wrong foot. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He pauses and takes a moment to look you up and down. “Love ya.”
You shake your head and laugh at the way he looks at you. “Love you too, you impatient man.”
taglist: @ab4eva, @aconflagrationofmyown, @butlersxbirdy, @eliseinmemphis, @blurredcolour
#elvis presley#elvis presley fanfic#elvis presley imagine#elvis presley fluff#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley fanfiction#austin elvis fluff#austin elvis x reader#austin elvis imagine#elvis presley x you#elvis presley x y/n#austin elvis x you#austin elvis#big daddy elvis#ally writes
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upside down radio | #1 the dopest radio in America
pairing: steve harrington x munson!fem!reader | mentions of Steve x Nancy
chapter summary: When everything in Hawkins is trying to come back to life, you and your friends get a crazy idea for your future.
The story is also avaliable on ao3
masterlist | steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist
📻 LEAVE US THE MESSAGE 📻
Today is my birthday, so as a gift I decided to publish the first chapter. 😂
Honestly, I have no idea what to expect from this, the idea was sudden. I see this story as one of those where you can interact with some of the characters if you feel like it, I thought it could be a fun variation. This chapter is a small introduction to their lives, I hope it's not too boring.
Your opinion, feedback, questions or ideas are always welcome! If there is something what would you like to see in the story feel free to tell me about it in comments or in my inbox which is always open for you guys! Thank you so much for reading!
"Oh my God I can't believe you still got it!" Chrissy giggled as she took the floral dungarees out of your closet. She had the same pair, unfortunately, while she was still able to fit into them without a problem, you, sadly, were no longer getting into yours.
"I have too many memories with them to just get rid of them." you replied with a smile. "I can't believe I have my own room."
After the apocalypse that swept through Hawkins, the government in an exchange of silence offered you all many amenities. You, Eddie and Uncle Wayne were given a small house on the outskirts, your neighbors were Max and her mom, and Argyle lived across the street with his mom and grandparents.
Chrissy, as your best friend, had helped you with unpacking and decorating your room, but now the clothes scattered on the floor were to help you find something to wear to the charity festival taking place in the nearby town, which will raise money to rebuild Hawkins. Hopper immediately got you all involved to help. Chrissy will be in charge of face painting, and you'll be at the same booth doing colorful braids, and right next to you will be Robin doing henna tattoos. Eddie and Argyle are to be in charge of the audio system, and Steve has been given the role of coaching the basketball team that will be playing at the game taking place at the very end.
"We'll finally be able to do sleepovers without chasing Eddie out of his own home," she laughed.
"Right." you replied.
"And what do you think about that?" she asked throwing a yellow dress in your direction.
"Chrissy we are going to a festival not a fashion show." you rolled your eyes. Ever since the scars from the demobats' attack appeared on your body, you didn't feel comfortable in your body and wanted to do everything to stay out of sight.
"Come on, I'm sure Steve will appreciate this beautiful dress on a beautiful girl." she giggled.
"Chrissy!"
"What?"
"You're mean!"
"Why mean? I've been trying to get you the boy you've been in love with since the moment you saw him in that tragic sailor costume at Scoops Ahoy!"
"We established a long time ago that Steve would never look at me that way, besides, he's in love with Nancy."
"Nancy who cheated on him and called bullshit. Nancy who is in a relationship with Jonathan, open your eyes y/n, in all honesty I think you have a chance, find at least some hope in yourself, come on!" she said in a very dramatic way.
"Hope is the mother of fools." You rolled your eyes.
"For that matter, I can be the biggest fool in the world, for both of us." she smiled broadly. "Now go change into that beautiful dress, I don't want to hear a no!"
In the meantime while you were dressing up Robin and Steve arrived at your house. You recognized it from Robin's annoyed voice and the unusually fast words out of Steve's mouth.
"Get him away from me because I swear I'll murder him tonight!" she shouted.
"Jesus, can someone tell me what's going on here?" you asked running down the stairs.
"Steve has officially lost all his brain cells!"
"Oh come on, I really don't understand why you're angry!"
"I'm not angry, Steve. I'm worried because you're going right into the lion's mouth, you're on the perfect path to end up with a broken heart all over again!"
"Now we definitely need to know more." interjected Chrissy.
"So, Henderson told me that Nance and Jonathan broke up-"
"And the Dingus thinks that coming back to Nancy is the idea of the year!" interrupted Robin throwing his hands in the air.
"Why not?! She already fell in love with me once, she can do it again!"
"Excuse me but are we talking about the same Nancy? I'm sorry to be the one to make you realize that this is the same Nacy who cheated on you with Jonathan, who never loved you and called you bullshit! Do you want to feel like that again? Do you really want to relive it all over again?"
"If I'm not mistaken you were always the first to say that everyone deserves a second chance!"
"Oh I'm so sorry I'm worried about my best friend because I don't want someone to take his heart again and dump it!"
"Me and my heart will be fine without your care!"
"Okay, enough!" Eddie shouted. You were all shocked by their behavior, because when the two of them argued, it was like the end of the world was near. "It's time to cool down, I propose a little swap. Robin will go to the festival with me and Chrissy, and y/n will get into Harrington's glittering chariot and keep him company on the journey. I think this will be the best solution and...the safest."
Steve wordlessly left the house slamming the door, everyone looked at each other in shock until finally all pairs of eyes were on Robin.
"Are you okay?" asked Chrissy approaching her slowly.
"I just don't want him to suffer again, everyone knows that she never loved him, after all, she even admitted it herself..."
"You just want to protect your friend, it's not a bad thing, we want the best for him too." She gently placed her hand on her shoulder.
"Of course we want, but in this case trying to pull him away from her may end up in unnecessary drama." Eddie added.
"And what do you think y/n?" asked Robin.
What were you thinking? Many things. You definitely agreed with her that going back to Nancy was not the best idea however your reasons for thinking that way were a bit more personal. For a long time you had been trying to come to terms with the fact that Steve wouldn't look at you as anything other than a friend, but you hadn't quite succeeded. Maybe this was just what you needed? To witness and see for yourself that the place at his side belongs to someone else? A painful but quick rip off of the band-aid?
"I think Eddie is right, it doesn't matter if we like it or not..." you sighed, and Chrissy sent you a sympathetic look, she was the only one who knew how you felt about Steve. That would be enough of the hope she was trying to ignite in you.
When you got into the car Steve sat quietly clenching his hands on the steering wheel. There was an expression of irritation and nervousness on his face. You knew it wouldn't be the most pleasant thing for you to talk about, but you also knew that since you couldn't have him in your life as a lover, you at least wanted him as a friend. And what do friends do at a time like this?
"Do you want to talk?" you asked quietly, watching the irritation on his face mellow and turn into sadness.
"I just- I don't understand! Why is it so bad that I want to go back to Nancy?"
"It's not, Steve... Robin is just worried, no one wants to look at the breaking heart of their soulmate."
"Why does everyone think right away that she will break my heart? Maybe this time it will be different?"
"You won't know unless you try." You smiled weakly. "Whatever happens...you can count on us, and I know Robin will support you too. If it works out for you, we will all be happy for you." You extended your hand toward him, and after a moment he gave you his and squeezed. "But, if it doesn't go so well and she breaks your heart, we'll all be happy to help you put it back together again."
You didn't expect him to pull you close and lock you in a hug mumbling a silent thank you into your neck. It felt so warm, his scent entered your system slowly. Your heartbeat definitely sped up when, instead of letting you go, he pressed you even tighter to him. As you reciprocated the embrace, you desperately wanted to remember this feeling for as long as possible, the way his arms embraced your body, the way his hair gently tickled your cheek, and how everything together created a place you'd most like to never leave.
"You are the best." he whispered right into your ear, and you naively wanted to tell yourself that the shudder that went through your body was caused by a gust of wind that came in through the open window. Feeling your flinch, he moved away, and you quickly closed the window to hide your embarrassment.
"So…" you began, not wanting an awkward silence to fall between you. Despite the fact that you and Steve now considered each other good friends you very rarely managed to spend time just the two of you. "Excited about the match?"
"Yeah! But also damn stressed." At the very mention of the match he beamed. "The guys are in great shape, but I'm afraid that after a long break they might have some slight problems with chemistry y'know. Especially since we had to change the captain after what happened to Jason…"
"I'm sure they'll do great, they had a brilliant coach." let out a playful laugh.
"You will come, right?"
"Sure I will, go Tigers!"
"go Tigers!" he laughed and started the engine.
All the way he talked about the strategies they devised for the match, you didn't quite understand everything, but when you asked questions he didn't seem annoyed. On the contrary, he was very eager to answer all of them with a smile, quite as if he was pleased with your interest. Your favorite part was when, with a gleam in his eye, he told you how much potential he saw in Lucas, the boy had great talent in him.
When you pulled in Eddie, Robin and Chrissy were waiting in the parking lot. They were joined by Argyle, Max and Lucas. Robin, with a serious look on her face, approached Steve apologizing for her earlier behavior, to which he immediately hugged her, saying that he was also sorry and understood her worries.
"Thank God the world is in balance again!" exclaimed Chrissy clapping her hands.
"I really don't know if we would be able to survive another end of the world." you laughed and started walking toward your stations. "Oh shit."
"What?" asked Eddie.
"Steve I forgot my bag from your car, can we go back for it?"
"Yeah, sure."
When you got back to the car, you quickly pulled the bag out of the car and slammed the door, catching your dress with it. You only noticed it when you felt something preventing you from walking away from the vehicle.
"Hey, careful!" the brunette ran up to you and, with an amused expression on his face, opened the door releasing the material. "You look very pretty in this dress, don't ruin it." he grinned.
"Oh." There was an error in your brain caused by this compliment. All you could do was stare at him and feel your face getting hot and certainly red.
"Come on losers, what is taking you so long?!" fortunately your brother's impatient voice got you back on track and with a quick step you moved towards them.
"Tooold you." said Chrissy quietly catching you under the arm.
"How the hell did you hear that?" you asked hissing through your teeth.
"I hear everything." she giggled, and you rolled your eyes.
After a full day of braiding, your hands were begging for a rest, especially when your most demanding customer turned out not to be little girls but Argyle and his long beautiful hair. The artificial, light green hair perfectly matched his real black one.
You took a seat next to Max in the front row with pleasure. Next to you sat Robin and El. Argyle, Will, Mike, Dustin and Eddie sat a row behind you. Your brother was initially reluctant to watch the game, but you watched in shock as Argyle successfully persuaded him to do so, explaining that his three friends would be there, and his support would definitely help them. Thus, you all watched as Lucas scored the winning points for the team, Chrissy as the born captain of the cheerleading squad motivated the team to play, and the crowd to cheer and Steve almost fainting from stress in the last minutes of the game.
No one was surprised when, after the win, Lucas immediately jumped on Eddie with excitement after hugging and kissing Max, thanking him for coming. The metalhead unsuccessfully tried to mask his emotion, making him a momentary target for jokes. Steve looked around. Everyone knew exactly who he was looking for in the crowd, however, today neither Nancy nor Jonathan showed up at the festival despite the fact that the rest of their families were actively participating. Seeing his disappointed face made you sad, and the thought that you weren't the one he was looking for in the crowd nailed you even more.
"Yo, Lucas!" suddenly one of his teammates approached you. "I'm hosting a little party at my house, y'all should come!"
At that moment, six pairs of eyes turned toward you. Funnily enough, you were the first ones they turned to for permission, and not their own parents.
"I know that look…" said Steve and rested his hands on his hips, taking his "mom pose."
"Please, coach!" said Lucas, hitting that name right in his heart. Moments later, he was joined by the rest of the puppy eyes.
"Fine!" he groaned. "But there are a few conditions! You don't get in the car with anyone other than me or Eddie, no alcohol, cigarettes or drugs-"
"Oh come on man, who are you trying to fool?" interjected Eddie. "All we can do is believe that these crackheads will be responsible with what they drink and do."
"Just- be safe okay? And Timmy, write me your address on a piece of paper so I know where to pick them up from, and you." he pointed to Max knowing that she would be the most reasonable of them all. "Call me when the party is over."
As the excited teenagers disappeared from sight Argyle suggested that since the younger part of the group was celebrating today, you should follow their example. Thinking of a place where you could feel the magic of your new friend's purple palm tree in peace, Eddie suggested a building that had been abandoned long before the "earthquake."
The building where Hawkins radio used to be headquartered and the place where you used to hide from Wayne, whenever one of you or together got into some trouble. The old tenement welcomed you with the smell of dust, because there was no electricity you had to rely on portable flashlights to light your way, and then a room with an old couch, chairs and equipment needed for broadcasting.
When everyone had taken a seat, Agryle fired up a joint and all of you except Steve and Eddie began passing it around. You were discussing the course of the day's events when suddenly your black-haired Rapunzel moved over to the big console and microphone.
"Goooood eveeening Hawkins! This is Argyle and you are listening to Upside Down Radio!" he said causing you to laugh. "Today's guest is none other than a world-famous star of the heavy metal scene…" he began, slapping his hands on the table pretending to drum. "Chrissy Cunningham!"
Robin nearly choked on a laugh seeing Eddie's surprised face when he didn't hear his name.
"Oh thank you so much!" Chrissy played along. "I am so happy to be here and represent my band Corroded Coffin!"
"Ha, ha, you both are sooo funny. " Eddie rolled his eyes. "If you didn't get your guests' names wrong you'd even have a good career on the radio." he bit back.
"Hey! I would be a perfect match to your band!" Chrissy tried to look offended.
"Sure thing, candy girl."
"This place is so cool, dude." Argyle said looking around. "Maybe we should actually think about bringing it back to life?"
"We?" asked Eddie raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, all of us! Instead of looking for a job, let's create one for ourselves!" he replied excitedly.
"We could get the government to rebuild this place, each of us could have their own program!" Robin quickly picked up on the idea.
"People could call us, or leave messages, ask for advice or order songs!" The excitement quickly spread to Chrissy as well.
"Wait, are you guys really serious about this? How high are you?" asked Steve.
"Actually, it sounds like a really good idea." interjected Eddie, who was completely sober. "We even already have a name." he chuckled.
The conversation got really heated, ideas came to your heads at the speed of light, even Steve, after a moment's hesitation, got involved, saying it was a much better option than going to work for his father's company.
"So what do you say my dudes? Ready to create the dopest radio in America?"
"Yeah, but let's talk about this tomorrow when y'all not higher than a bat's ass, 'kay?" laughed Eddie.
"And who's to say!" you shouted.
"Hey, shut up! I'm totally clean today!"
"Uniquely." you stuck out your tongue in his direction.
taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73 @mizzfizz
#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#stranger things steve#fanfiction#fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington firends to lovers#corrodedseraphine#corrodedseraphine fanfiction#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#corrodedseraphine upside down radio#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#robin buckley#argyle
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Hey ya'll! Another au I thought up lol.
So this is gonna be another Half King au with immortal Danny and Vlad lol.
Danny got the Crown of Fire, which changed to more icey blue cool flames than green and Vlad got the Ring of Rage.
ANYWHO.
Danny and Vlad split the zone into two part (not literally), with Danny ruling over one half and Vlad the other. Because they have equal power, they can also make decisions regarding the others territory but they have an agreement to not mess with each other's shit unless its actually important.
Then Vlad gets summoned to a different dimension for whatever who summoned him wanted, to which he then decides to stay because what the summoner wanted would take a few years.
To which he then decided to take a vacation and tell no one about it.
So Danny, after a couple hundred years of Vlad's mysterious disappearance. He's told by Clockwork that now he has to go find him, to which Danny asked why since he didn't need to go looking hundreds of years earlier.
To which Clockwork smiles, points him in the direction, and tells him to go looking.
Danny grumbles, but he goes.
But for whatever reason he himself cannot enter the portal, he doesn't know why, but something is blocking him from entering.
The ghosts are a different matter.
So, using the far back knowledge from when he stilled visited earth, he came up with a plan to bypass whatever is blocking him and walk the planet on the other side.
What better than a cult?
So he sends a few ghosts through to discreetly plant some 'tomes' about the Ghost King, specifically the one who wears the crown, and now he just has to wait.
Meanwhile, Vlad:
Honestly, he's been enjoying his vacation a whole lot, he left the world he was originally summoned too after he was done and kinda floated aimlessly around in space before coming upon earth and decided why not.
So now here he is 450 years later, firmly cemented in the business world with a company with 450 years of rich history past down to each heir of the family who, funnily enough, were each named a variation of Vlad.
Vladmir, Vladicus, Vladalia, etc.
Obviously just him in different looks but eh no one knows.
Anywho, now he's attending a Gala held by one Lex Luthor and honestly, he was just pretty bored.
He doesn't need to really attend, and he has his money bet on Luthor not wanting him to attend, but he does get a kick outta annoying the hell out of that baldie any day of the week.
Meanwhile Danny, a few months earlier:
So his planned worked, because of course it would. TV tropes always work.
There he was, clothed in his kingly garments, his crown made sure to be the very cool and powerful looking version of his ice flames and his face stony and cold.
He did all of this expecting that he had to set a powerful image for the cultists so they would actually listen to him properly and not question him when he got to the other side.
Only to be met with a ridiculous sight.
What he thinks were the cultists getting their asses handed to them by.... very brightly dressed individuals in spandex and...
Is that a British guy smoking while flinging about magic?
Now, he doesn't judge, especially when he's already lived for more than a hundred years.
But what the absolute ever loving fruitloop.
He may or not may not have stood there with his arms crossed under his chest, his cold expression turned deadpan while he watched the people he was going to give an introduction to get their asses beat for a good few minutes.
A pity, he worked on that introduction in case he ever got summoned too.
When what were obviously superheroes finished up and turned to greet him, he maaaaay have floated up to have the height advantage on them.
Look, its not his fault he has the body of a teenager and honestly they should really shorten themselves down and stop being so tall already.
So he asked them if they've seen another ghost king, you know. Blue skin, red eyes, vampiric teeth?
By the reaction he would have to say no.
He already knows that Vlad is somewhere on this planet so he just, leaves, and goes to find him.
It was only until a few days later did he think that it might've helped if he gave a name instead of Fruitloop.
Meanwhile at the gala in present time:
Vlad was having a grand old time, as always Luthor really knew what food and which drinks would be best for his parties and honestly, that's just a bonus.
What he's really here for is the subtle reactions Lex Luthor gives him when he's trying to hold himself together.
It's always fun when that happens.
He met with Brucie Wayne (who he surprisingly never met yet.), had a good laugh, maybe made a new friend. Said hi to that reporter that's at Luthor's events like half the time- Clark Kent if he remembered correctly.
Met a woman named Diana Prince, had a good conversation with her, and mingled with a few other people.
He also saw a British guy that smoked like no tomorrow, not that he judged. May or may not have sneaked him some another pack.
Isn't he just so nice today?
So there he was, enjoying his time as he usually did. Until he felt the familiar cold presence that he hasn't felt for a good while.
Damn. Guess that means his vacation is up now.
Got some pretty strong whiskey, poured himself a glass, idly drank it and waited for the show to begin.
And just as he thought, there Phantom appeared, floating over everyone as he looked down on them as if they were barely worth his attention.
They then locked eyes.
"Found you." Danny said, ignoring the confused people underneath him. To which Vlad gulped down his drink in one go, poured himself another glass, took a sip and smiled.
"Hello to you too, little badger."
#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#Half king Danny and Half king Vlad hc#Sue me I like it#ANYWAYS#Vlad left for a vacation and told no one#Then it became Danny's problem#the JL when they go to a gala to scout if Luthor has any new plans#Only to find the Ghost King they were already looking into#And then seeing him greet Vlad Masters#and find he's the other Ghost King the other one spoke about.#They think he possessed/haunted the Master bloodline for years lol
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Costume meta 6x09
Here we go - last one of 6a!! I’m feeling sad about not having metas to write every week, but I’m also looking forward to being able to get more of my costume plot work done (as well as being able to get back to decorating my flat but thats another story 😂)
Boy oh boy was this an interesting episode on the costume front! The costumes, along with sets, music and editing did some seriously heavy lifting in this episode - the costumes were laying some serious groundwork for 6b - Im vibrating with excitement over it all!
Athena
Going to start with Athena this week - we open with her in a set of silk pyjamas - in a dark dusty rose colour for me this was a very intentional choice - the entire scene is very muted its almost grey scale or sepia toned - like the colour has been washed out of the world - except for Athena - she is the solitary brightly coloured thing - she is Bobbys bright spot and the dark dusty pink is representative of their love. for me this costume is a bout setting up 6b and how Bobby is going to need to rely on Athena in whatever he is going to face going forward.
Then we have her all in black - this costume is obviously very much in Athenas wheelhouse, but its also a very interesting and deliberate choice for a couple of reasons - the first is that it makes Wendell’s watch stand out more - something which was important for the audience to pick up on in preparation for the 118 finding his body later in the episode. The second thing is that Athena is the only person we see Wendell touch and with her dressed in black the implication is that she represents death and the grim reaper.
I’m obviously not saying that Athena is the grim reaper/ angel of death, just that the show is choosing to make use of her presence as a way of channeling the concept in this particular scene.
Athena is wearing different necklaces in 6x09 - I really am enjoying the idea that as she has become free of various baggage that she has been carrying with her, her necklaces have changed and gained variety. If I get the chance during hiatus I’ll make a post about her various necklaces and when we see them and when we se changes!
But this new one is another Pyrrha necklace from the talisman range. They’ve paired the pendant with a black paperclip necklace - the necklace that looks most like the chain you find on shackles - again something playing into the imagery of the shackles holding one to life and to the earthly plain.
The pendant itself is a honeybee with a wreath of roses - this symbolises the significance of life and the importance of continued growth. This is the second time we’re seeing bees used as a symbol in as many episodes and I’m loving the use of it here - even if its in a somewhat depressing way. Bees are renowned for working together and we can take from the use of the bee symbol that Bobby and Athena will need to work together, but we can also take the meaning Pyrrha have attached to this charm -the concept of continued growth as important as well - form me its saying that Wendell as bobby’s sponsor, has taken him as far as he can go - that now it is down to Bobby to continue his journey and growth without him. And the importance of Athena wearing the bee - well she values Bobbys life, but she also is the direction Bobbys growth and future lie in - they need to work together and take that journey together and continue to grow together.
Honestly - if I could steal this outfit - I would!! A white open knit jumper with a dolman sleeve, over black vest and bright olive yellow/green high waisted trousers with a buckle detail at the ankle. its a very typical Athena outfit - its very much a variation on a theme - and in this episode - that means Athena is in a stable place which can only be a good thing as we head into 6b!
we also have the return of the pelican necklace - the symbol of selflessness and sacrifice for the care of others - again a perfect symbol for this moment and I’m a little in love with the fact they’ve connected Athena and Bobbys respective journeys to solve a mystery - Tanya Kingston for Athena and Bobbys sponsors death (most likely to be a murder). We saw how Bobby was there to support Athena and the necklace returning (as it did with Mays arc from the last episode as well) symbolises her being there to support him in return in 6b
Bobby
Bobby in pyjamas seems fairly innocuous to start off with - until you realise that they’ve paralleled him and buck and bookended the episode with said parallel! to be fair we only know this because of the bts picture, but it is still relevant to note - both in grey tops, dark trousers and black socks!
Considering we haven’t actually seen that much Bobby and Buck paralleling this season when we used to get a bit more of it, this is a really interesting choice - especially with the return of the voice overs both at the start and end of the episode. those voice overs and the paralleled costumes really so set out the stall for 6b - the Bobby arc and the Buck arc are going to be the ones we lead 6b with and the implication is clear - its going to be about family - the family you build - and what it means to be family - for Bobby that is as much about his AA family as it is his fire fam or his family with Athena - and all 3 are intertwined when you look at the bigger picture.
The grey is a definite choice - its reliable and stable and is connected with wisdom - to me thats telling me that both Bobby and Buck will end the season on more stable and solid ground than we find them at the beginning.
The second I saw this shirt - I screamed - and then when I got the context later in the episode - I was bouncing on my seat with glee!
Bobby wearing a teal green shirt;
which just so happens to be the same colour as;
Eddies teal green tee from 5x14 - tying these two scenes/stories together - Eddie being the one with Bobby when he realises its Wendell is so significant and that is what had me bouncing with glee when I saw it play out.
We have Eddie trying to get his head around loosing his comrades - the people he was in the trenches with and Bobby supporting him and giving him advice. and then We have Bobby in last nights episode - essentially doing the same thing - Wendell fills the same spot as Eddies comrades - the people you’re in AA with - they are you comrades in the trenches of addiction - the loss of one - especially a sponsor - it is a similar concept. Its the connection to family - the ones you build with the people you’re connected to in whatever circumstance you find yourself in - that is the conversation Bobby has with Eddie in 5x14 and the ghost of it is there, lurking in the background of 6x09. Bobby will never know what drove Wendell back into his addiction, but he can get some closure by finding out what happened - that is how Bobby ‘finds his way to heal’ just like he told Eddie to do in 5x14!
The blue shirt Booby wears when Wendell is visiting - its brighter than any of the blues we’ve seen him in this season
The maroon shirt is such a great choice for this scene - I know I’ve talked endlessly about maroon being the colour we see the men in a lot when its connected to being a father, and I guess in some ways this is still applicable here, the conversation when we first see him in this shirt is about family - Wendell’s family, Bobbys family, the firefam - however maroon is about as close to red as we’re going to get Bobby in and its its own form of red flag for him - the red flag being that the pieces fit together to lead him to the conclusion that Wendell was murdered - and then we see Bobby start investigating while in the same shirt
Chimney and Maddie
I’m going to talk about Madney as a unit this week - because their costumes actually combine to tell their story and its all about green!!! we have Chim talking about the murder house and family etc whilst wearing green (also supporting Hen while in green and displaying the continued growth and strength of their friendship) before we see Maddie in the same shade of green when they are viewing the house. Them being in the same shade of green is all about them ultimately being on the same page - it’s about them both growing together - and at the same pace. That Maddie’s green are getting darker (in the same way it appears Bucks are) is also highlighting her growth and the floral design on this shirt for me is pushing the analogy of planting and tending your garden so that it may grow - Maddie is beginning to see her family blossom!
Chimneys only other outfit is this grey zip front sweater - its a pretty typical Chimney sweater style - the grey is stability and reliability, its also a calming colour - Chimney talking about a house having good bones etc is him talking about it being stable - much like he is at this moment in time - he’s on a stable foundation etc from which to build his family solidly and better than it was previously.
Hen
This dip dye cardigan is gorgeous! the teal green top portion ties into the Bobby and Eddie colour, only for Hen I think its more of about foreshadowing rather than the scene itself - the foreshadowing of the loss of the existing family dynamic (as Hen says in her conversation with Chim later on ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to share’). THe choice of dip dye also does this - dip dyeing is the process of only putting one end into the dye and allowing it to rise up the fabric and in the process take over the underlying colour. This process plays into the concept of gradual change - that the life the Wilsons know is changing - that something new and different is slowly creeping up on them - in the same way the dye changes the colour of the fabric.
Yet again we have yellow being used as the colour of communication - this yellow in the marbling on the jacket is borderline tangerine, but it is yellow. The choice of marbling for the jacket is also interesting - its all the colours sitting suspended on a surface ( usually water - marbling is possible because the paint/dye acts like oil and thus doesn’t mix with the water) and being mixed, but not actually mixing together - much like the cardigan above, it hints at the possibility that the family dynamic that we’ll see in the future won’t blend - it will mix but stay separate - it will be like oil and water - that it will sit side by side - touching but not merging - maintaining as separate entities. It also reflects Hens inner turmoil as well as her attempt at subterfuge - the marbling is distracting and draws the eye!
🚨Check theory klaxon🚨 The way I got excited when I saw the sneak peak for this scene and Hen was wearing check - and not just check, but a patchwork of red check! The use of red is obviously to play into the red flag theme of the episode, but the use of a patchwork of check is interesting - patchwork is taking scraps of fabric (or whatever you make your patchwork from) which would be considered unusable for most things and making something that is greater than the sum of its parts - creating beauty from waste/scraps. It really plays into hte idea that Hen and Karen have taken things and combined them to create the life they have now - taking a chance on a blind date, taking the leap into something more, taking in Denny, fighting past infidelity, fostering all the kids they have, giving up dreams that would’ve taken them away from what they’ve built. So this check shirt is very much signalling that this life they’ve built is going to be challenged (hence the check), but heres the thing about patchwork - its easier to repair and alter without it looking odd - you can make it bigger or smaller, change out the pieces that aren’t working - without compromising the integrity of the bigger thing.
I also want to take this moment to point out that Hen is not dressed like her couch (more on that when we get to Eddie)😂
Karen
I adore this jumpsuit and the main take away from it for me is that yellow is the dominant colour - the colour of communication - and it is Karen that does most of the communication with Denny about his biological mother in this scene.
Karens peasant blouse is an interesting choice to me. Its completely in keeping with her character (we’ve seen her in similar items before). The thing about peasant blouses is that they are deceptive - the term peasant blosue has connotations of ‘the poor’ - the ones doing the hard work etc. but the truth is they’re incredibly complex and detailed garments - the embroidery is time consuming and intricate, its also beautiful and elaborate. Both aspects fit Karen as well as fitting the storyline - Karen is a beautiful soul who is intricate etc. She is also someone who works hard to both provide, but also to care for and grow her family. to me the use of this style of top is showing us the difference between someone who is there (doing the hard work of raising a child) and someone who chose to step away when presented with the opportunity (both Nathaniel Greene - who said he’d be guided by Hen and Karen, but who has evidently not kept in touch with them and Eva who was only interested in Denny when it suited her or when he could be used to try and get what she wanted). I think we’ll find its again, a piece of foreshadowing and something Denny will come to realise and appreciate more in 6b.
Denny
starting off with Denny in camouflage when he’s asking questions about his birth mother - epic move by the wardrobe department - its all about hiding your true intentions. Denny is a Wiley one because this whole thing was never about Eva - she was just the thing Denny was hiding his true purpose behind (because we know he already knows some things about her) and the camouflage was our signal that thats what he was doing. His assertion that he didn’t need another mother because he already has Hen and Karen is absolutely true - and he only asserts it when he’s got his hands on the information that he wants - the information about his biological father!
Got to confess that I was a bit puzzled by this choice of tee - until I realised that there were also clouds on it - so the theme is that Denny currently has this sunshine and palm trees life - but the clouds are rolling in - a perfect choice when we know that the first couple of episodes after hiatus are going to feature both a lot of rain and a rainless lightening storm of some sort - this tee shows us the storm clouds are gathering in California (renowned for its sunshine and palm trees!)
Eddie
Eddie is very much hiding in plain sight this week and that is fascinating to me - for such seemingly nondescript costumes there is a huge amount going on.
We first see him back in a Henley (everybody cheered) - its black and does a great job of blending him in to the couch in the low light levels. We don’t tend to see Eddie in black all that often (apart from the black vests - which, well we all know about those and what they mean 😂) we would typically see him in either green or cream/beige for this type of scene so the decision to have him in black and camouflage him with the sofa is very telling - it really adds to Eddies attitude throughout this phone conversation - Eddie is not going to get into the sperm donor thing because he isn’t happy about it. Black is both a colour of mourning and a power colour - and in some ways we get both aspects in play here - its a bit of a power move by Eddie to get himself out of the conversation at the same time making it clear how he feels about the whole situation - mourning isn’t really the right word, but the implication that Eddie is frustrated by Bucks choice - that he is perhaps mourning the fact that Buck is still misunderstanding the assignment is what makes Eddie being in black at this moment an interesting choice
Watch watch 👀👀👀 It’s so interesting to have Eddie wearing his work watch at home, it’s not something we’ve seen him do since he started wearing two different watches in 4x06 Jinx (we see the blue face brown leather strap one for the first time when he meets up with Ana for their date) The fact that the blue faced one is so closely tied with Christopher and Buck (see the post I wrote about it here if you haven’t already) and he’s not wearing it in either of his scenes when he’s at home even though we’ve seen him wearing it this season is very telling. it adds an additional layer to what I wrote above about Eddie not being happy about the sperm donor situation because it separates the Buckley-Diaz family and so Eddie himself is separating himself from that concept and its manifesting as him not wearing that watch - the watch that is part Chris and part Buck. It highlights that time is still an important element in Eddies story - and that the Buck and Chris aspect of time is also important - its saying that Eddie isn’t working on that aspect of his life right now (almost like he’s been ale to hit that snooze button he talked about) he’s avoiding it, but I’m pretty confident that watch will reappear in 6b!
The navy blue shirt blends him into the sofa - I’ve spoken about this episode and the idea of camouflage several times above. That we see Eddie blending into his couch just before the camera cuts to a sleeping Buck - loud!!! The thing Buck doesn’t have at the moment - a couch - the thing he’s waiting to replace until the right couch comes along - when we’ve already seen how the show has made use of couches in connection with Buck - we’re pretty much being trolled at this point!
Buck
Buck in pale blue again - I said in my 6x02 meta how I was expecting us to keep seeing Buck in light blue - getting lighter or darker depending on where he is in his journey - that started with the pale blue wedding suit in 5x18 - well I do love it when the show proves me right! Buck is in a lighter blue here - suggesting that he’s gone backwards in his journey (especially when you consider that this long sleeve tee is the same brand as the darker one he wore in 6x07 the first time he tried to donate his sperm - the universe has been screaming at you Buck!!) and we know that is going to continue to be the case in 6b!
Sleepy Buck I’ve already talked a bit about in the Bobby section - the grey is mostly about paralleling them. But there are other things going on here as well. To start with the vertical stripes are on full display - continuing to play into my theory about Buck wearing vertical stripes. The grey also does a similar thing to Eddie being in navy blue - it blends him into his bedding - camouflage - this episode has been full of it - hiding in plain sight, keeping secrets and ‘hiding your true feelings from others’ (looking at both of you Buck and Eddie!!). Camouflaging ones self is an act of protection - self preservation, but it is also an act of sabotage and it can be a red flag - which we see it is throughout this episode. then there is the foreshadowing the grey represents - the stability and maturity - things I think we’re likely to see Buck achieve by the end of the season as he figures himself out more.
The other thing to point out from this scene is the cushion Buch is sleeping on - its the use of triangles again - we saw it used when the Taylor-Buck-Lucy triangle happened in 5b, and here we have them again - when we have Buck caught up in another triangle of his own making - this one is Buck Conor and Kameron and the Baby Buck has just helped to create.
And yes Buck is still wearing his watch at all times - in both scenes (we know he is in the second one thanks to the bts we got vvv)
I don’t normally talk about uniforms, but I thought it was actually an important point to dive into this week - especially concerning Buck because they chose to do a couple of very deliberate things with is uniform and it really really tells us a huge amount about where Buck is at.
We’ve had conversations within the fandom about Buck distancing himself from the rest of the 118, well his costumes are helping to make the visual even more obvious, it wasn’t as blatant earlier in the season, but they went very hard with it in 6x09, because not only is he physically creating distance from the rest of the team (which we’re seeing with him being off sleeping and away from the others etc) he’s also doing it with his uniform too, and the whole being cold theme Buck had going on in 6x09 - that is some epic foreshadowing my friends!
The rest of the fire fam are wearing their bomber jackets - except Buck - who is clearly cold by the way he is rubbing his arms etc. this is all about Buck essentially freeing out the firefam and not the other way around and its just the latest and biggest manifestation we’re seeing of this - something which we’ve had building in the background since the shooting. We’ve gone over it in great detail - how Buck was distant - and how Taylor was responsible for that in S5 - however what we’ve seen in 6a is that, while Taylor definitely played a part in it, she wasn’t the cause and her departure hasn’t solved the wider issue. Buck not dealing with Eddie being shot - as well as Maddie leaving (no judgement on Maddie I’ll come for you if you try) - both things that have pushed buck into a trauma response - which for Buck is creating distance - when you reflect on it - its something he has done his whole life - its just manifesting in a slightly different way at this point in time. Maddie might have described herself as a fugitive, but Buck is also one - previously he ran to the next adventure to prevent himself getting hurt - now he’s creating distance from his family as a way of trying to prevent himself getting hurt. Thats why the writers put in that monologue from Buck about being someone who went on adventures etc in 6x04 - literally connecting all of his trauma responses together.
The sleep driver incident also showed us Buck dressed very differently from the rest of the team - Eddie is also dressed differently as he isn’t wearing the short sleeve shirt Chimney, Hen and Bobby are - again separating him from the others - it puts him closer to Buck which is intentional so that when we see their reactions to a naked lady we pair them off even more than just the script implies!
Even when we do see him dressed the same (as Eddie) his body language is closed off and the distance Buck has been creating remains! Again having him and Eddie dressed the same while the others are dressed in full uniform serves to both highlight Buck and Eddie as their own unit, but it also plays a role in foreshadowing - I want to also point out another prop getting in on the heavy lifting - Eddie is in a red chair - a red flag if you will - also foreshadowing. To me that is saying that Buck being closed off and separates will continue, but its Eddie who is in danger early in 6b (which we’ve now got a pretty good idea about thanks to the trailer) and this foreshadowing is what we’ll see come to fruition in 6b (Chimney is also in a red chair, so we’re likely to see something around him and some sort of issue with his new house (as thats what he was talking about while sat in the chair)).
we also see Buck dressed differently even when in the wildfire uniform - his sleeves are rolled up - when everyone else has them fully down - protecting their arms (this is obviously a deliberate costume choice irl a firefighter wouldn’t be allowed to have their sleeves rolled up while actively fighting a fire as the yellow jacket is fireproof and there to protect!) In some ways this subtly plays into the concept of risk taker Buck, but its mainly done to continue highlighting that Buck is not fully part of the team at this point in time - that he’s different to the rest.
we see it continue when they get back to the firehouse - Buck has grown the distance by stripping down to the grey long sleeve tee (petition to see more of the grey tees - they look so good!!) while the rest are still in full wildfire turnouts. There is a part of me that feels like this is foreshadowing Buck being physically separated from the team in 6b, but at this point its just conjecture on my part (it would however fit into the idea of 6b injured/ coma Buck so its not really that out there!)
And just like that 6a’s costume metas are complete!!
If you’ve made it to the end then I thank you - have a cookie on me 🍪🍪🍪
I hope you’ve enjoyed my deep dive ramblings on costume for 6x09 - drop me a reblog or a comment to let me see your thoughts - I love reading them!!
As always tagged people below
@mistmarauder @theladyyavilee @loveyourownsmiilee @leothil @girldadbuddie @kitkatpancakestack @buckscurls @lemotmo @trashendence @elishareads @clipboardsandstethoscopes @comfortbuddie @fiona-fififi @name-code-black-widow @callanee @calyssmarviss @pbandjeremiah @batgrldes @piningpettyeddie @bi-moonlight @spotsandsocks @livingwherethesidewalkends @idontshitpostbuttheolympicpark @diazboysbuckley @sweettsubaki @shortsighted-owl @sherlocking-out-loud @dickley-buddie @favouritealias @hearteyesdiaz @gossamerglob @ktinastrikesback @adamrparrrish @princesschez75 @bucksbuddie @oneawkwardcookie @leatherat @moniquekatie @wanderingwomanwondering @trickster-archangel @outrunningthedark @asharadaine @ajunerose @talespinner230 @pop-kam @swiftiebuckleys @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @butchjerry
#kym costume meta#911 costume meta#kym costume theory#911 costume theory#911 colour theory#911 costumes#911 on fox#911 fox#athena grant#bobby nash#hen wilson#karen wilson#denny wilson#chimney han#maddie buckley#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#buck#eddie diaz
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Hii, it’s me again! So, I have 2 asks and you can choose one or just not answer at all, that’s fine too.
1) I always see people talking about Tim and Jason’s relationship and how Jason was Tim’s Robin, but I thought it was Dick? Also I know their relationship has gotten way better but I’m kinda confused didn’t they dislike each other? It makes sense of course for there to be character development but now they’re each other’s favorite siblings? Or is that just fanon?
*NOT hating in any way, your gal’s just confused 😅*
2) Some people say Dick and Bruce have a more “brotherly” relationship because of the age gap, but I could never see anything other than father and son. Also I’m not sure about my opinion on Dick and Damian’s relationship but what do you think? Eldest-youngest relationship or fatherly? 🫢💕
Hello! I’m gonna try to answer both asks to make up for the fact that it’s taken me over a week to answer lmao
1) Dick was absolutely Tim’s Robin. Tim adored Dick so clearly it was borderline weird when they first met, and afterwards Dick and Tim’s relationship becomes more brotherly and it’s obvious how much Dick also adores Tim and is super protective of him. Meanwhile, if I remember correctly, when Jason comes back he walks into Titans Tower dressed in his old Robin suit where Tim is minding his own business and beats the living daylights out of him? Wildness. Tim does forgive him later and their relationship does change, but calling them fave siblings is wildly inaccurate, and anyway, I’m not too versed in the Tim and Jason dynamics and it’s not really an interest of mine, so maybe someone can clarify this?
2) My understanding of the timeline is when Dick’s parents died and Bruce took him in he was 8 and Bruce was around 27-28. (In this household we ignore whatever the hell New 52 and Rebirth did to their ages) That’s why the age thing was never a problem for me, because it’s totally plausible for a 28-year-old guy to have an 8-year-old son. We should be beyond this debate by now honestly I’m so confused.
Setting aside the numbers, it still makes sense even if you consider the wide variation in Bruce’s parenting skills. First-time parents are still learning and can be too lenient or too strict + Bruce being a young dad could also mean he’s not quite mature yet and can make mistakes/treat his kid like a lil buddy sometimes. (Again it’s not rocket science anyone who’s observed any family ever will know this.) But, imo, I always see a father and son dynamic between them. They don’t have to be the typical picture of father and son to be father and son, you know? The main thing is that Bruce took him in, provided for him, helped him, taught him, loved him, watched him grow up… that’s Dad enough for me.
Dick and Damian are an interesting parallel to Bruce and Dick. Since Dick has expressed a desire to adopt Damian, it’s safe to say there are parental feelings there. Then again, I think it’s pretty common for eldest and youngest siblings with a big age gap to have the line between sibling and parent blurred a bit. I’ve experienced that myself, and I’ve seen it in the people around me. Maybe some things in the human experience are too complex and beyond labelling.
#ask me anything#send me anything#DC vs the ever shrinking age gap between Bruce and Dick#it’s pure clownery
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Too bad now you have to give recs of "hero goes down on the clueless heroine and she’s like wow thanks that was AMAZING, can women do that to men too? 🤔 " haha
I love the clueless heroine going down on the hero, she has no idea what she is doing but her eagerness makes it a 10, Best blow job of my life 🤌🏻
@hptriviachamp posts every time the latter thing happens with a very apt meme that makes me laugh every time (IT AIN'T MUCH BUT IT'S HONEST WORK)
I can't remember a lot of PARTICULAR moments, but for these moments or this vibe:
You should definitely try Elisa Braden for this vibe. Mooost of her heroines are virgins (honestly: too many of them for me lol, I do need a bit more variation) and they're often all "WHAT'S THIS BUTTON DO" about sex. Her Midnight in Scotland series is really good. I think The Taming of a Highlander is the one where the hero is like "THERE'S NO WAY IT'LL FIT. WE MUSTN'T." and she's like "la la la it grows exponentially bigger when I look at it, I suppose I shall attempt to stuff it in la di da" blase about it.
One Good Earl Deserves a Lover by Sarah MacLean, one of her best. The heroine's a scientist who initially gets the hero to teach her about sex only! Verbally! Before graduating to physically! Also! She's very "if he'd let me study his penis with a magnifying glass I would" in nature. I also really enjoy the scene where he eats her out, comes in his pants, and immediately afterward is caught when his buddy stumbles in like "hey where do we keep th--OH. SORRY."
The Duke Gets Desperate by Diana Quincy doesn't have this scene/a totally clueless heroine, but it does have a scene where the hero is like "my dick is trying to make friends with your pussy" so there's that.
And in the same sense, because I fucking know these authors are friends and there's no way this was a total coincidence... Frankie in Mila Finelli's Mafia Mistress & Mafia Darling is NOT a virgin by any means. But when she and Fausto make it official, they do immediately roleplay him deflowering her as if she has literally never seen a dick in her life and it's HILARIOUS. Like these are DEEPLY COMMITTED people going "oh no! what's that????" "it's my dick! it's trying to say hello!" and I. Die. Not only because it's very funny, but because it actually makes their relationship more authentic to me. That's the kind of shit you only do with someone you deeply trust lmao.
Grace Callaway is gonna give you this vibe. Not all of her heroines are virgins, but the ones who are... often are precocious... and will like stuff their mouths with the hero's dick like they're doing the chubby bunny challenge.... The Duke Who Knew Too Much comes to mind because he's like "NO WAIT STOP THERE'S CRIME AFOOT" but she's already going for it.
Speaking of, Elizabeth Hoyt's Duke of Pleasure always deserves cred for the singular moment in which the hero and (virgin, grew up as a street rat dressed as a boy) heroine are investigating crime and some evildoers come upon them and he's like "quick just pretend you're blowing me" and she does start like, a mild actual beej while he's telling the guys "PLEASE LEAVE I'M GETTING BLOWN BY MY DOXY~" but after the guys leave he's all "so you can stop" and she's like "no no no I'm going somewhere with this". This one is special to me because he makes her spit into his fancy handkerchief after and I promise that even if he didn't know it that's when he decided to marry that girl.
I would say How to Marry a Marquess is one you should check out--by Stacy Reid. It's a classic "brother's best friend teaches me how to be sexy and then things get Really Outta Hand" book. I also really liked this one scene in it when his whole "let me teach you what dudes are into" thing leads to him like, eating her out in a moving carriage and when the carriage stops he does an entire "EGADS" jump off of her.
I need to reread The Lady Gets Lucky, but that's a rake meets virgin sex lessons book, and I have to think based off the scene I remember where he's like 30 seconds away from coming just from watching her lick her lips, there's a lot happening.
#romance novel blogging#lol i wish i could be more specific it's just something that has happened in so many books i've read#it's very similar to the 'SWEETHEART STOP OR THIS WILL BE OVER BEFORE IT'S BEGUN' moment#which often kinda bugs me bc i'm like jesus dude. just eat her out after.#take a minute to rebuild your strength while she sits on your face and you can fuck her after#EASY!#book recs
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Rating Vocaloid/Vocal Synth Designs! Part One: Hatsune Miku (+Fanloid designs)!
(PT: Rating Vocaloid/Vocal Synth Designs! Part One: Hatsune Miku (+Fanloid designs)!. End PT)
Hi! Welcome to Rating Vocaloid Designs! I'm Shadow and tonight we'll be rating the designs of Hatsune Miku!
For the record, this refers to primarily boxart and the actual artwork seen. So if you're here to see ratings on the Project DIVA modules, you're out of luck. Sorry.
This was inspired by @mikudesigns! Please check out that blog if you haven't already.
Anyways, let's start!
V2 Miku (Art by KEI): Starting off strong I see! Very simple, very cute. Classic. You can't go wrong with the classics. I feel like more could've been done, but hey. 8/10.
Miku Append (Art by Masaki): ...Well that went downhill fast. Sorry, but I'm not that big a fan of this design. The hair is very pretty though. 5/10.
Miku V3+Light/Vivid (Art by iXima): LOVE. Kinda wish they stayed with the classic uniform but it's still very cute. 9.5/10.
Miku English (Art by Zain): Idk why but when I saw this the first thought I got was limes. Just... limes. Also her uniform looks very crystalized and honestly I like. 9/10.
Miku V4X (Art by iXima): Nothing special. It's just the same as her V3 only with slightly thinner twintails (maybe it's the art? idk). 9/10 atleast she's cute.
Miku V4 Chinese (Art by Mamenomoto): ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL??? I mean, sure it's similar to V3/V4X designs but I LOVE IT SO MUCH. 10/10.
Miku NT (Art by iXima): As much as there's mixed feelings about Miku's NT voicebank (I'll admit I'm slightly conflicted myself!), you have to admit that the boxart is cute atleast! 9/10.
BONUS: Concepts, Fanloids, Variations and Miku IF designs!
Prototype/Concept Miku (both by KEI): Ngl this looks like a younger Miku and honestly I love that. 10/10.
10th Anniversary Miku (I believe KEI also made this?) Colorful, but what the hell are the rainbow lines in her hair supposed to be? Ribbons? Cords? 7/10 could be worse.
Sakura Miku (By KEI): Love the cherries in her hair, but I don't like how the sakura flowers are just... printed in her hair? 8/10.
All of these Miku IF award designs: Sorry but THAT IS NOT MIKU. However... they're kinda cute and the designs are cool so they get a pass. Second design in particular looks like a great potential design for a sibling of Miku. 8/10 for all three (Originally 7/10 but the more I look at these designs the more I love them).
Art made by Chiyo, Nashiicha and rokino respectively.
Miku Symphony Promo (By KEI): Very cute but I wish they did more with the outfit tbh. 7/10.
Miky Symphony 2017 Promo (Same as above): That's much better! Her hairpieces are slightly weird but the dress+violin make up for it. 9.5/10.
Akita Neru (Made by Smith Hiokia): Looks like if Rin and Miku had a baby (which tracks given that she's basically rin/miku). 9/10
Yowane Haku (Art by Caffein): Absolutely beautiful. I love her. The bow in her hair and the colors just... love love love. 10/10.
#no id#long post#ask to tag#vocaloid#fanloid#hatsune miku#sakura miku#miku symphony#akita neru#yowane haku#miku hatsune
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Hello! I was wondering if you could write about baking with Felix! A full day of baking brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and any other sweet treats! 🍪🧁🍩🍰 After everything is done baking, all the boys get together to watch cartoons and enjoy the sweet treats <3
You don't have to do it, of course, but I would love it if you did! :)
I love this idea, little duckie! Felix is one of my favorite CGs and baking is also my favorite thing to do!
Felix was nervous, to say the least. He told the other boys about your regression a while back and while they all were very supportive and understanding, none of them have met little you. The closest they ever came was Chan calling Felix while you were playing with your blocks next to him. Chan chuckled and cooed at you through the phone after hearing a tiny 'Uh Oh' when your tower fell over. Besides that, however, they only knew big you. It wasn't that Felix was embarrassed, far from that actually. He was just very protective of you.
"Mama" a tiny voice knocked him back to reality. There you stood in your Bbokkari footie pajamas holding your quokka plushie. He smiled down at you.
"Hello little cupcake, sleep well?" he swooped you up into his arms and you giggled wildly. He loved that sound.
"Mommy! I hav idea!" you exclamied.
"And what is my precious little cookie's idea hmm?" Felix nuzzled into your hair and breathed in your scented shampoo. You always could calm his nerves, even without trying to.
"Brownies! for tonite! Have brownies wif uncles!" he loved the way you called the other members your uncles. You were so comfortable around them already and they aren't even there yet.
"I think that is a wonderful idea sweetie pie, let's get ready!" With that, you two were dressed in matching aprons. Felix did most of the actual baking, like cutting the chocolate bars and using heavy equipment. You however got to be his little assistant. When he needed sugar. You got it! If he needed someone to watch the batter? Your eyes were glued to the bowl. Need someone to taste test the batter? Who is better than the little sous chef?
He also got multiple photos now stored on his phone with you covered in sugar, flour, and chocolate batter.
Once the brownies were in the oven Felix let you set the timer. He used it as a moment to teach you. Lifting you up to reach the timer on the stovetop, Felix explained to you how numbers and time worked. You smiled and nodded even though you really didn't understand, you just liked pressing the buttons.
While the brownies were baking Felix whisked you off for a bath and to get ready for the boys. He dressed you in a slightly oversized sweater and some cute pants to match. He made sure to do your hair just the way you like it and even let you put on some lipgloss!
The boys arrived one by one and Felix was very impressed with how brave you were being. You greeted each one of them with a big hug and an adorable variation of their names. However, once Channie, Minnie, Binnie, Jinnie, Sungie, Minmin, and Innie were all together you began to feel nervous. Slowly you sneaked behind your mama and held onto him, hoping he would take the lead. Felix chuckled a bit and lead you to the couch, right in between Chan and Han.
"Hello little bunny," Han said in a gentle voice, honestly everyone was surprised by how quiet he could be.
"Hi Sungie" You answered back softly, bringing a smile to everyones face.
"I think I smell some brownies. Do you guys smell those?" Han asked the group, prompting a group reaction.
"They smell delicious, did you make them little one?" Asked Jeongin who was now sitting on the floor in front of you.
"Mhm! Mama and I made them! They are for the movie!" everyone died at how adorable you were.
"Well if watching a movie means brownies, then let's get this movie started!" Changbin boomed.
Felix turned on Ponyo while Seungmin and Hyunjin helped pass out brownies to everyone. You smiled and giggled as everyone went on about how amazing they were. Minho even said they were better than Felix's!
Once the excitement of sweets died down and the movie played Felix felt you snuggle up deeper into his chest. He leaned down and kissed your head.
"I love you, my little sweetie"
#kpop age regression#kpop agere#age regression#stray kids age regression#agere#stray kids agere#skz agere#skz age regression
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Can you do like dad eddie since it’s Father’s Day and maybe like him having such a Goofy little baby girl like maybe they have a fun day together?
yes of course! i've been thinking about this all day actually. this concept has been rattling around in my brain, very loudly. here's some singledad!eddie with his little girl at her first concert.
it was 1993. the crowd rumbled as the opening number started. to say eddie was excited would be an understatement. he was bouncing up and down on his heels and shouting at the top of his lungs. the way he was reacting was fitting as this was his first time seeing DIO ever, and they opened with 'stand up and shout'. hearing the guitars rift on stage with the bright lights was so intoxicating.
eddie was careful in the crowd, making sure to stay away from the men that were moshing a little to hard and shoving into each other in good fun as the tempo carried their movements, as if the drummer was guiding them to move all crazy and brash himself. eddie remembered when he could do that. honestly he missed it.
but now he was making new memories. the little girl on his shoulders kicked her legs to the beat on his chest as he held her thighs tightly to make sure she was on tight. she couldn't see from the ground and he had to be sure she would remember these moments. she was only four but he had read in some parenting book that kids develop their first memories at the ripe age of three. he was sure she would remember something as big as this.
he couldn't tell but the lights from the stage dazzled in her eyes. they were glued to the stage as ronnie james dio himself sung the same lyrics she would hear her daddy sing when he made her breakfast. it was loud but the bright yellow headphones she had on her ears protected her from any hearing damage. her dad.. not so much.
after many many songs and an encore eddie pulled his bundle of joy down from his neck and to rest on his hip. he pulled her headphones off as the sound of the crowd went from a loud rumble to just a busy chatter. "you like that, sweetheart?" she smiled at him and laughed as he nuzzled his cheek into hers with adoration. "you play guitar just like them!" she unknowingly complimented him. eddie chuckled. "yeah? you think so?"
eddie walked both of them towards the merch table, needing to add a new band tee to his ever growing collection, his daughter was squirming in his grasp. eddie timidly put her down so she could walk herself, not without him grabbing her hand almost painfully tightly so he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. she giggled and waved at all the people she passed. all of them looking like different variations of her own father. she looked up to him and pulled the hem of his battle vest. the same one he wore during his high school years. "are these all your friends?" eddie smiled and shook his head at her. "something like that, sure thing kiddo". he tussled her straight hair into a mess with his palm.
after a long walk they had finally made it out of the stadium, though the crowd had dissipated he still held her close as she stomped her feet in a tempo of a song stuck in her head from hearing it live. eddie smiled watching her, now dressed in a new tshirt that was his size. over her clothes and so big that it looked like a dress.
eddie was convinced he would have to pry it off of her when they got home, telling her it wasn't appropriate for her to wear to preschool because of the large devil named 'murray' on the front. she had gotten a lot of complements from her dad's "friends" as they were leaving the venue along side them. they had been shouting that she looked like a rockstar herself. her eyes would light up as she blushed and jumped up and down.
when they finally reached the van and eddie packed her into the backseat she looked up at him as he helped her with her seatbelt. "can we go back soon, daddy?"
eddie smiled, "you bet your ass we can, sweetheart".
thank you so much for sending me this!! i hope you love it as much as i do! a lot of this was actually sitting in my drafts but thats not important happy father's day!
wanna send me a request?
#onemoresong#ahh i hope this is good enough#singledad!eddie#happy father's day#eddie as a dad is so special#eddie munsons fluff#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie#stranger things#new post#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fluff#eddie muson blog#eddie munson au#st#reqeddiemunson
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Spitballing a Head Canon with no in-depth research after the recent events of Chapter 7 because AAAAA—
Spoilers for Chapter 7 (naturally) and unreleased events for the EN servers:
From a meta standpoint, we know that the Limited Events/Cards are ‘characters’ you can pull for Twisted Wonderland. They cast different spells/have different stats.
But I wonder if some (if not all) of these events within universe are things that would happen within a Sleeping World Malleus created due to his Unique Magic. A way to pass the time/distract the residents of the Dream. As noted, after Malleus finishes singing Once Upon a Dream (holy shit dude, why he gotta do this to me), we cut to the title card that is shown when the Game Boots up.
Repeating Birthdays/New Years/annual events are the biggest evidence of this. We started getting Birthday Events back in 2020, with each year adding a new “variation” on the theme (the white dress coat and sash, the varsity jacket, the Broom Bloom get up and probably a new one come August for Riddle). Most, if not all the main student cast should have graduated if we went by a time scale of “this world”.
Cutting back to meta, this is just us being fed pieces of lore to make us fall in love with the characters. But Riddle Rosehearts on his way to celebrate his 4th ‘birthday’ on the NRC campus? Plus, his personality isn’t like that of the Crimson Tyrant we say in Chapter 1. For that matter, none of the OB Gang are like this. They’re no where as severe as they were when their Chapters were rolling,
There is also the matter of ‘offsite’ events happening. Some are in line with the school curriculum (e.g. Beans Day, the Camping Event and debatably, the Masquerade Event), but others like the Arabian Sands event, Harveston and the Sunset Savana…that would eat away at school time. Crowley may be bird-brained, but Professor Trein takes no BS. Plus, we have to consider everything that is happening in the main game (the Sports Event, the VDC event, holidays, potentially even exams). It would be a lot that happens within the space of one year, and it just seems like too much to fit in.
Malleus is considered one of the most powerful mages in the world of Twisted Wonderland, so the idea of him creating a functioning dreamscape is possible. He did say that he would make them sleep for a millennia so there’s plenty of time to happen in a dreamworld (and dreamworld logic is known to be funky at the best of times).
As for NPCs we’ve only seen (e.g Rollo, Epel’s Grandma), it could be that Malleus’s spell allowed for students and staff to have.. ‘input’ so to say. The Dream is able to draw on previous memories/experiences, creating scenarios for NRC to experience. For example, a school exchange may have happened with Noble Bell College in a previous year, with Trein as chaperone and Rollo in attendance. This would mean that the Spell to create the NPCs we interact with. I
There has been an element of danger involved with the story events. But honestly, I think it could be that Malleus’s Overblot has an effect on the spell or could just be how the dream works. Everything got resolved in the end and no one died/got seriously hurt.
The Time Loop Theory could also be integrated into this, as the dream will repeat the one year that everyone is together. And when Lilian’s retirement rolls around, boom it’s Rewind Time. Thus, a Groundhog Day but the length of a school year. Sometimes certain events happen, some don’t. But there are key events no one can avoid. The events of the Main Story line.
Granted, this is mainly conjecture and my own observations of the game. I could be well off the mark but it would be interesting to confirm this to be the case; everything happened but didn’t actually happen. Saying that I had suspicions about the events in correlation to the actual story line after the fact may be a bit cowardly, but hey it is what it is
#malleus draconia#twisted wonderland#twst#twst spoilers#I’ll admit some of these things are a wee bit of a stretch but hey we aren’t going off alot here#I am intrigued about how the next part of the story will unfurl tho
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Just Dumb Enough to Try
Chapter 7: Good Vibrations
Word Count: 3.8k
Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: angst, swearing, smoking, alcohol use, pining, existential crisis, mental health spiral, attempts at jokes, sexual tension, cheating, boner in public bc i'm an asshole, emotional abuse
Series Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it's 1998 and you're starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.
Chapter Summary: Our heroes go on a double date to the beach.
Notes: Chapter title from the masterpiece "Good Vibrations" by The Beach Boys. Fun fact: Brian Wilson spent 7 months and $400,000 USD in today's money producing Good Vibrations. It took 90 hours in the studio and 70 hours of tape to make it. I love The Beach Boys. ANYWAAAY - let's go to the beach and get an awkward boner. Spotify playlist for this chapter. Cross-posted to AO3 here (UN: glitter_diety). Update weekly on Sundays.
[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ]
Lake Casa Blanca, Laredo, TX
June 13, 1998
“You wanna grab the towels, babe?” Dan calls to you as he and Javi haul the cooler onto the beach. Kim swings a beach bag over her shoulder and slams the back hatch of your car closed after you grab the stack of towels.
The beach is crowded with people of all shapes and sizes. The guys find an unoccupied area on in the sand and plop the cooler down as you and Kim trail behind, side by side. She’s wearing a loose white t-shirt dress that’s so sheer you can see her red one piece swimsuit through it. Her long tousled chestnut brown hair is spilling down her back. She is the living, breathing, embodiment of Baywatch.
You look ahead to see Dan and Javier each grabbing a beer out of the cooler and taking their t-shirts off. Thankfully, you're wearing dark-tinted sunglasses, which hide the fact that you're gawking at the men. It’s obvious that Dan exercises regularly; his muscles fill out his tall frame. He’s tan and his beachy blond hair makes him look like a boy band dream boat. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from drinking in Javier in the full light of day. He looks so… soft, but also strong. Which, you think, is fitting.
Despite the view, this whole situation leaves you feeling like you would rather eat glass than be here, honestly.
You and Dan met Kim at the Pour House last night. At some point, Javier walked in with Chucho. Javier popped over to say hello to you and Kim. He introduced himself to Dan. You were able to yada-yada a reasonable explanation for how you and Javi met, which was close to the truth anyway.
"We met through my roommate in San Antonio a few years ago," you spelled out, looking over at Javi, catching his eyes, which made your heart jump into your throat, "We all hung out a few times. It was so bizarre to run into him again here, though."
Later, Kim jumped on the opportunity to invite him to go to the beach the next day.
"Like a double date," she told him.
The thought of him at a beach is amusing to you. He’s almost always in some variation of the same outfit: jeans, button-up, work boots. You wonder if he’s a speedo guy, because it’s entirely possible.
The mystique of seeing him in an environment this out-of-context almost makes it worth the complete misery of watching Kim flirt with him. She was batting her eyelashes and touching his arm while laughing at everything he said. He leaned into it, being the insatiable flirt that he is.
On top of that, Dan put his arm around you possessively and barely allowed you to speak the whole time Javier was near. You would start to chime in, and Dan would cut you off. Eventually you gave up on having a good time.
Javier, for what it’s worth, dismissed himself from the table shortly after you stopped engaging. He spent the rest of his time sitting at the bar with Chucho, frequently observing you from afar with eyebrows drawn together, jaw set, lips pursed.
“Question…” Kim states while you’re trudging through the sand, “Why did you ask me about Javier that one night if you already knew him?”
You choke out, “What? Oh… I, um, didn’t realize that was him. Neither of us recognized each other for weeks, it was weird.”
“Hmm interesting, ok,” she puts her hand on your arm in a reassuring manner, “Such a small word, like, oh my god, what are the odds?”
You reach the claimed spot and set the towels next to the cooler, keeping one to spread out on the hot sand. Dan takes off towards the water’s edge. Kim pulls the t-shirt dress over her head and discards it next to the towel you laid out.
“You coming, Javi?” she calls with a wink while following Dan to the lake.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he waves back to her.
“It’s so fucking hot out,” you observe while unbuttoning your high-waisted Jean shorts and shimmying them down your thick thighs. You glance over at Javier and notice he’s staring at you, “What?”
“I- I like your swimsuit,” he says lamely.
You look down at your black string bikini, then back up at him, smirking, “I like yours, too. Slightly disappointed it’s not a Speedo but…”
He chuckles, opening the cooler, “Want a beer?”
“Holy shit, please.”
He grabs two, twists off the bottle caps, and hands one to you. You chug about half of it right away, because you may need liquid comfort to make it through this day.
You’re hot, but not ready to emerge yourself in water yet, so you sit down cross-legged on your beach towel. Javier grabs a towel, spreads it out next to yours, and lays down on his back, propping himself up on his elbows.
“So… you and Kim? I thought you weren’t interested,” you ask, shading your eyes eyes and squinting out into the water. Your vision is quite poor, so you can’t tell who is Kim and Dan, but you think you see a red blob out there somewhere, which is probably Kim.
“You sound jealous.”
You glare at him, “Shut up.”
“Does that mean you’re admitting you’re jealous?”
He looks so pleased with himself. Which is irritating. You roll your eyes.
I’ll never admit it. But also, maybe. Yes. Definitely yes.
He looks out into the water, then down to his beer bottle, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, too.”
“Jealous of what?” you scoff. It came out a little more bitter than you had intended. He doesn’t say anything in return, just watches you.
A sigh escapes your lips as you try to let the negative feelings go. You bask in the hot sun and the wind rolling off of the water, enjoying the calm, until you remember that you haven’t applied sunblock. Cursing to yourself, you fish the tube of sunblock out of the bag next to you, open it with a pop, and start trying to rub it onto your face, neck, and shoulders.
As you’re struggling to get all the parts of your shoulders, Javi laughs, “Do you need help?”
You bite your lip and consider whether or not you’ll be able to keep yourself from coming undone if he touches you for longer than a moment. The memory of his warm, rough hands squeezing your tits while he begs you to fuck him replays in your memory, making your heart flutter and your face turn scarlet. Your hands tingle as you hand the sunblock over to him.
“Dan isn’t going to come over here and kill me for touching you, is he?” Javier chuckles.
“If he didn’t want someone else to do it, he should have stuck around to help me,” you grumble, “Should I lay down?”
“Sure.”
You flip around to lay on your belly, propping your head up on your forearms and closing your eyes.
You hear him squeeze some of the goop out of the tube. He asks, “You ready?”
A hum from your lips indicates yes, but you quiver in anticipation of his touch. All the air leaves your lungs as he places his hands on your shoulders and starts rubbing the sunblock around. He moves slowly and tenaciously, working his fingers over every inch, seeming to savor the skin-to-skin contact as much as you are. He gets to your lower back and grazes both sides of your waist. You surprise yourself by letting out a small moan and arching your back ever so slightly. He freezes for a second, then continues on until he reaches your bottoms.
“Do you want me to get your legs too?” he asks shakily.
You revel in the intoxication of the contact, desperately wanting it. “If- if you want to," you say softly.
“I’m asking you,” he responds firmly.
You gulp, “Yes.”
He squeezes more product into his hands and starts applying it, working up from your feet. His digits are sliding over the sensitive skin of your knees and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning again. Goosebumps break out once he reaches your upper thigh.
You gasp when his fingers trail along your bikini bottom, dangerously close to your inner thigh. You hear him move away from you and clasp the sunblock closed.
“I think that’s the best I can do.” He rasps. You roll over on your side, facing him, and he has folded his knees up towards his chest.
You roll over to your back, open the sunblock, and continue to apply it to your front side. First your arms, the fronts of your legs. You move at a lazy pace, dazed and slightly embarrassed of yourself.
Could I be more of a weirdo?
It seems like Javi is staring at you again, but it’s hard to tell with the sunglasses hiding his eyes. He looks far away and pained.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable ,” you mumble quietly while starting on your soft belly. You hope he doesn’t press you for more words because you really don’t want to say “ hey friend, sorry for getting turned on when you put sunblock on me” out loud.
His head jerks backwards and he frowns, “It did not make me uncomfortable, cariño.” He looks around, you’re assuming to check on the whereabouts of your fiancé, and looks back down at you as you reach your chest. His face looks tortured… and you understand.
Oh. Ohhh.
“You… look uncomfortable,” you tease, then let your fingers tips slide just a bit into your bikini top, making sure every spot of you is covered.
You feel the need coming off of him in waves as he tilts his head at you and practically pouts. You grin devilishly. He shakes his head, “You’re killing me.”
When he shifts a bit to get more comfortable, then reverts back to hugging his knees, your eyes wander down to his swim trunks. It’s not super noticeable if you’re not trying to see, but you catch a glimpse of the bulge straining against the fabric. You practically drool thinking about what it would be like to suck him off… for him to fuck your throat… what his cum tastes like…
Fuck me.
You avert your eyes as to remain undetected, but can’t help it when your whole body becomes flushed and jittery. It’s suddenly too fucking hot for you to be laying in the sun.
“Where are those Bakers?“ you sit up and look around, capping the sunblock with a pop. He points to a volleyball court down the beach a ways. You shade your eyes with one of your hands and mumble, “I don’t even know why I ask, I can’t see shit.”
“At least I think that’s where they are. I can’t see shit either,” he confesses, then squints, “I think Kimmy is that red… person in red over there.”
“Fucking blind leading the blind," you mutter and look back to him, “Wanna get in the water, or are you gonna play volleyball too?”
Or do you need more time for your raging boner to die down?
“If you want to swim, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Yep, you need more time for your raging boner to die down.
You pull yourself to your feet and dust the sand off your body. As you amble by them, you compliment the sandcastle some children are building. By the time you reach the shore, which isn’t more than 30 seconds later, it feels like you’re walking on molten lava.
One foot plunges into the water, then the other. Sweet relief. You wade forward, enjoying the feeling of soft sand squishing between your toes. It reminds you of time you spent on the lake at your dad’s cabin back in Minnesota. Once you’re deep enough, you hold your breath and let yourself sink completely underwater. There’s a great quiet all around you. Your skin gets over the initial shock of the temperature change and acclimates to the cold lake. When you can’t hold yourself under any longer, you emerge and float onto your back.
The sky above you is bright blue and cloudless. Sun rays kiss your exposed skin. Your eyes flutter shut. Children chatter and squeal with joy in the distance. You even hear the volleyball players yelling at each other further down the beach.
This is fucking bliss .
Water sloshes around as someone approaches you slowly. You crack open one eye.
“Feeling better?” you ask Javier, who is wading in your direction (sans tent in his swim trunks).
He sinks down to his shoulders so his face is level with yours, a few feet away, “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you smirk, “Just thought you might need some time to umm… cool down?”
He shakes his head and scoffs, “Ok, so you saw.”
“I hardly know what you’re talking about," you snicker.
He splashes you in the face playfully, which makes you flinch and sit up.
“Giggle all you want,” he moves closer to you and pulls his sunglasses on top of his head, “But I heard you. I think you liked it.”
You splash him back playfully, “You didn’t hear shit , Javi.”
“Oh, no?” He moves even closer, just a foot away from you, voice so low and quiet he’s practically growling, “I didn’t hear you moan ? When I touched you here?” His hands grasp either side of your waist, thumbs caressing your abdomen for emphasis, sending a jolt of electricity across your body.
You gasp, “Javi-“
His eyes flash hot, watching you squirm as his hands linger on your body underwater, trailing down to your hips, where he tightens his grip. The pressure sends a wave of pleasure through your body and makes your knees go weak. Your lips part as a small whimper escapes your throat. He inhales sharply, then utters, “I didn’t hear shit, huh?”
“M-maybe I did like it,” you admit. He doesn’t move his hands from your body. In fact, he pulls your hips a little closer to him.
Or am I doing that?
He rotates the two of you so his broad back is facing the shore and you’re concealed from view. Your hands find his chest and your fingers splay across his skin. The muscles underneath twitch and he groans.
Are you just as hungry for touch as me?
“What the fuck are we doing?” you whisper, finally acknowledging that the two of you are doing something . Dancing around it. Playing dumb. Passing a time bomb back and forth with every look that lingers too long, each touch that feels too good, all the flirting that only occurs when everyone else is at a distance.
Javier shakes his head, then exhales-
And a volleyball skids across the water, settling a few yards behind you. Your heart leaps from your chest and you kick yourself backwards away from him to go get it. Once you get ahold of the ball and turn around, you see Kim and Dan wading up to Javier. Javi turns around and greets them. He stands up and gives a side hug to Kim, who places her hand on his chest and keeps it there while laughing melodically at something Javier says.
A rage bubbles up inside of you that is truly not even logical, what the fuck.
You plaster a smile on when you return with the ball and ask Dan, “Did your team win?”
Dan wades over to you and takes dominion over the ball.
“Did our team win?” he scoffs, “Course we won, babe. Kicked their asses.” Then he plants an unexpected kiss on your lips, making you squeal and jump back.
“We’re playing again in a few minutes if you guys want to join!” Kim says, looking between you and Javi.
Your eyes flick to Javier and he looks… pained. Your guts twist into a knot.
“I think I’ll pass,” you inform them, which is not a surprise to anyone, explaining, “I want to draw a bit and swim while we’re here.”
“Shoulda figured. Javi? You in?” Dan asks.
Javier crosses his arms in front of himself and shakes his head, “No thanks.”
“Why not?” Kim questions, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t want to,” he shrugs. She glares at him and takes a step away.
“Really? Y’all are lame," Dan complains.
“It’s hot as fuck out, Dan. I’m surprised you were able to find anyone to play volleyball with you,” you observe while sinking back into the cool water, floating on your back and closing your eyes, “Just have fun. I’ll make sure Javier stays out of trouble.”
The Bakers concede and the four of you go inland to eat the lunch you packed in the cooler. Kim is obviously cross with Javier for not wanting to play volleyball, and he could give two shits less, which is amusing. You don’t say much because your head is occupied arguing with yourself:
We almost got caught.
Caught doing nothing.
It’s obviously something.
But what is it?
And what do we do now?
How did I get here?
Am I ruining my life?
Am I saving my life?
But, thankfully, Dan and Kim share every play-by-play of their volleyball match, which doesn’t leave room for you or Javier to put a word in edgewise. Once they finish eating and drinking a beer, their new sporty friends are ready for a rematch.
Before leaving, Dan plants a kiss on your the forehead and quietly tells you to “not embarrass me now, ok?”
You sit up and nod once in acknowledgement, despite every atom in your body screaming fuck off.
Javier’s gaze is hard as it follows Dan. He sits down next to you, “What the fuck did he just say to you?”
“Nothing, never mind it,” you wave it off with a reassuring smile, but avoid eye contact. He grumbles under his breath in response. Ignoring it, you ask, “Can I bum a smoke?”
He wordlessly hands you a cigarette out of his pack and lights it for you. You look off into the water and sigh because you know more questions are coming.
“Is he always like that?” Javier asks gently.
“Not really… I mean, not at home at least.”
He waits a minute before continuing, “And what is he like at home?”
You blow a raspberry trying to recall what he’s like at home. Not there, you suppose. Or if he is home, he ignores you largely. Sometimes he talks with you, checking in with you, occasionally picking little fights, initiating sex, and telling you about things he's planning to do. There are nice things he does for you… like the way he gets your coffee ready in the morning before leaving, leaves you money to do things, buys you flowers. He can be really sweet.
“I don’t- we don’t have to talk about this,” You shake your head and put out the cigarette in the hot sand.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he raises his eyebrows.
“No,” you say firmly. He nods.
You take off your sunglasses, dig your drawing pad and pencils out of the beach bag, then stretch out onto your stomach facing Javier. He pulls out a book and flips it open to a dog-eared page about 1/4 the way through.
“Do you mind if I sketch you?” you look up through your eyelashes at him.
He lowers his book and furrows his brow, “Sketch me ?”
You nod. He looks… bewildered.
“I- I guess not, go ahead. But why?”
“I think that…” you flip to the first blank page you can find, considering your next words carefully, “you… are very handsome… and I would like to draw you.”
“I can’t argue with that kind of flattery," he grins down at you, “Do I need to move?”
“No, you’re perfect just like that,” you smile.
And you think that maybe… you were able to make him blush. Which makes you absolutely giddy.
While you sketch, the two of you talk intermittently about the book he’s reading. You try not to interrupt, but, c’mon, it’s Christine by Stephen King. He tells you that he read IT after watching the miniseries with you, and has picked up some of Stephen King's books every now and again. This fills your heart with pride. You didn't even think he remembered watching IT with you.
Your eyes flick over the top of the drawing pad to his face, “You should take off your sunglasses so I can get your eyes.”
He obliges, pulling the sunglasses up onto his head. The dark eyes search your face, eyebrows settling, softly knit together. He folds the corner of his page in the novel, then sets it down beside him.
“Sorry, you don’t have to look at me, you can keep reading if you want,” you tell him while concentrating on your pencil to paper.
“I’d like to keep looking at you,” he husks, “if that’s ok.”
Your face instantly turns red and you laugh nervously. You gather the courage to raise your eyes to his, “Of course.”
The quiet that settles is natural and comfortable. Your chest tightens each time you look up for reference and his eyes are already glued to you. It seems as though he’s studying you meticulously, which would normally make your skin crawl, but it doesn’t feel like you’re under a microscope. He asks questions about the artsy fartsy projects you've been getting into now that you're a homemaker. There’s no judgment present. It feels more like he’s learning you.
“Done,” you’re able to tell him eventually. You hand the drawing over to him. He smiles from ear-to-ear and you could just barf it’s so beautiful. He has fucking dimples . He raises a hand to his mouth and lets out a laugh. You laugh, too.
“This is amazing,” he grins up at you, “Thank you.” You steal one of his smokes, light it, and sit upright. He hands the drawing back to you and you tuck it away.
The second you finish the drawing, you start ruminating on this thing between you and Javier. You’re acting like horny teenagers that regret making a vow of celibacy. Finding loopholes that you know aren’t right.
Before you can start processing these feelings out loud, Javi interrupts your thoughts, “What movie are you going to see this Wednesday?”
Your face scrunches up in contemplation, “I’m not sure yet. The Truman Show looks good?”
“Do you want company?”
“That depends,” you squint and tap your finger to your chin, “Your company?”
“Obviously,” he scoffs.
You lean towards him and bite your lip, “I suppose.”
“Can I maybe… take you out to dinner afterwards?” he asks.
Your heart is pounding. A grin spreads across your face, “That would be lovely.”
He returns your smile, “It’s a date.”
[ Next Chapter ]
#narcos fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#javier peña x ofc#javier peña#javier pena x you#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier pena x reader#javier pena fic#narcos fic#pedrostories#pedro pascal#narcos#pedro pascal fandom#javier pena#jdett
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So… what makes someone Spider-Man?
(A side note before this post begins: I prefer using Spider-Man as an all-encompassing term for all variations. It is not a gendered term to me. Also I am rewriting this post a second time because Tumblr didn’t want to post the first version. Whoopsie)
I keep pondering over this question. Obviously, Miguel is wrong in his assumption of what makes someone Spider-Man. He is the antagonist, and, honestly, the straight up villain, of course we are meant to be challenging his opinions.
But the more I thought about this question, the more I came back to one line in the first thirty minutes of Into The Spiderverse as the perfect springboard for the answer that I think the franchise is trying to give us. So what is it?
Well, in the first movie, Spider-Man dies. And during what would already be an incredibly emotional montage of people learning of it and trying to cope, there is a voice over of Mary Jane’s speech about Peter Parker. A message for the people of New York, who we see dress up as Spider-Man to listen to her speak.
This moment is incredibly important already, being the first push of motivation for Miles to attempt to come to terms with his newfound powers and responsibilities. But it’s not just for him. She is giving this speech to every Spider-Man fan out there, both in the movie and in front of the screen.
And the line that really catches me is this one:
I’ve heard the sentiment that Spider-Man doesn’t choose to be a hero many times. But I reject this notion. Yes, it seems like that. But gaining the powers doesn’t automatically make you a hero, doesn’t make you Spider-Man. You can become a villain. Or you can just go home.
Spider-Man, however, chooses to be a hero. Because Spider-Man has to. It’s what a good person would do. And that isn’t just a choice you make once. You have to keep making in, whatever it is that life throws at you.
Sometimes being a hero will mean you make mistakes. Sometimes you will lose what you love. You will have to sacrifice. And choosing to be Spider-Man no matter what, choosing to be a good person, to, as Gwen mentioned in the same exact movie, get up again, and again, and again.
Honestly, this reminds me of the moral of Ratatouille. So, to paraphrase the phenomenal speech from a phenomenal animated classic, “Anyone can wear a mask doesn’t necessarily mean that anyone can be a great hero. But it means that a great hero can come from anywhere”.
And Spider-Man is a truly great hero.
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