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#Just naming all the series I’ve watched
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Aizawa x daughter!reader - always be there
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I got this idea for dadzawa in which his daughter got a talent show at school and ahe decided to participate but she thought that his dad wouldnt go (Aizawa) but actually he did and he was amazed by the incredible performance she did. - Anon 💜
Stretching a little bit, you stood at the entrance to the stage, waiting for the performance before yours to end.
You were nervous, beyond nervous, but you were excited as well, you had never preformed in for other people before, and you couldn’t wait to show all your teachers and friends what you could do.
Taking your phone out of your pocket, your checked your messages and sighed when you saw your dad still handed responded to your message and put your phone back in your pocket to ignore it.
You weren’t all that sad about it, like sure you were disappointed, but you understood at the same time.
Finally your name was called and you walked on to the stage, sitting down at the piano, and you closed your eyes and take a deep breath before you begin to play.
It started off slow, and kind of repetitive until the melody started to change.
You loved this, just playing piano, it was calming, and you forgot about the audience.
So much so that you never heard the creaking of the doors opening and somebody else coming in.
Aizawa quietly stepped in, standing in the back of the room, and he looked at you on the stage.
He stood watching you, amazed at the talent and passion you had for the music you were creating.
He knew you were taking lessons, but when did you get this good? When were you able to play at such a high level?
He stood up a little more, walking down the rows of seats to be able to watch you better and he could see your little smile, which made him smile as well.
He couldn’t have been more proud of you.
Not only for what you had achieved, but for coming into a stage in front of loads of other people, he knew how hard it could be for you to be in front of other people.
His eyes widened a little as the melody changed again, becoming more complex, and you smiled even more.
He took out his phone, taking a photo of you smiling brightly, and he put it back in his pocket, smiling into his capture scarf.
Everybody was enchanted by your performance, the way you hit the keys so gently but created such a powerful noise it echoed around the empty hall.
The song you were playing suddenly came to an end after a complex series of notes, and you slowly stood up.
Everybody began clapping and cheering, and so did he, while you turned your attention to the ground shyly, offering them all a little wave before hurrying to the end of exit.
Aizawa was quick to follow you into the hallway.
“Hey, are you okay? I know that was hard.”
You spun around in shock, and huge smile spread across your face.
“Dad! You came!”
Aizawa chuckled, stumbling a few steps as you tackled him into a hug, and he hugged you back.
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
You grinned even more and pulled away from the hug to look at him.
“You’re really good, when did you get so good at playing the piano.”
“I’ve been taking extra lessons!”
“Oh yeah? How is it?”
You began to ramble about the extra lessons and he stood there happily listening.
All the tension from a hard day of teaching seemed to vanish as he listened to you get all excited about your hobby.
You noticed him staring at you and looked a little confused.
“Sorry… I know you’re probably tired…”
Aizawa chuckled a little, placing a hand on your head.
“Keep telling me.”
“Really?”
He nodded and you grinned as you carried on explaining everything to do, and he stood against the wall while he listened with a warm smile
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andradrawsstuff · 11 hours
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An in-depth character analysis of Skipper: pt 1
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This version of Skipper is probably the simplest since he was comic relief at first, but a bit of a hot take, might actually be my favourite (I prefer the show version of the other three tho). Going back to the movies after years of watching the show, I realised that this version of Skipper is surprisingly… chill? I guess I’ve been so used to his tv personality that my brain just decided to override his movie personality with tv Skipper.
Buckle your seatbelts, this is going to be a long one ☝️🤓
Movie Skipper is quite a nonchalant, carefree and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but calm character. He’s kinda just minding his own business doing his missions. He’s pretty serious when he’s leading his team and planning his missions, eg. the boat hijacking scene, but generally you’ll see him with a smile on his face. He’s always been a suave and charming little guy with a lot of sarcasm and sass, which he wouldn’t be Skipper without.
Generally he takes no bs, is straight to the point, and is pretty blunt, usually to Alex and his bunch. But this is also where his sass and sarcasm starts to show more. It’s funny. I think that Madagascar 2 really shows his charm and sass more out of the three main movies bc of all the chaos.
It’s pretty safe to say that the penguins are chaotic neutrals (apart from Private maybe) but they do it in such a way that makes it really funny. Not only do they trick the tourists and steal their car (ya know, grand theft auto) but also run over the grandma after seeing she’s still alive (ya know, attempted vehicular homicide). I could name every single crime they commit istg and it’s a long list 💀 But anyway, Skipper does all this with such a chill and carefree attitude and simply doesn’t give a shit. It’s what makes him so funny. It’s a big reason why I love this version of him, bc he doesn’t take everything too seriously and just goes about his day like nothing ever happened.
Obviously, he’s not evil and does still care about others, for example when they rescue Alex and his bunch in Madagascar 2 and 3, as well as stopping Dave in their spinoff. But I do think that he has something against humans (which is understandable) bc he seems to have a general disregard for them which is kinda funny.
In Madagascar 3, you start to see a bit of a shift in his personality and he becomes a little more aggressive. I’m guessing it’s because Tom was used to voicing Skipper more aggressively for the tv series and they also probably adopted a bit of tv Skipper into movie Skipper. But he is still generally pretty nonchalant nonetheless. He isn’t as suave as the other two movies either, but he does activate Kowalski’s nuclear reactor just for the funnies so I’ll give him that. The best thing about them here is their interactions with Dubois, the sheer trail of carnage they leave behind wherever they go, and the funny little quips here and there. Can’t forget bababooey.
The penguins spinoff movie brings back a little of Skipper’s charm and swagger, mostly with the “I do things my own way” attitude and him just being an asshole to Classified bc he doesn’t like him. This movie also makes Skipper more tame than the other movies which I don’t mind that much, but I wish he was a little more chaotic neutral rather than so hellbent on being heroic.
But the thing that really solidified Skipper as a complex character was his character development. This is the first time you get to see his vulnerable side and even from the start of the movie you see that he’s actually pretty sweet underneath all that chaos. When they “lose” Private is when you really start seeing Skipper’s full character, going from carefreeness to pure desperation trying to get his little brother back after he gets kidnapped, which I think was a great way to go because it shows how much he loves his family.
Later on he kinda “gives up” and follows the North Wind’s plan, which is one of the only moments you see him completely vulnerable and unmasked - no clever quip, no opposition, just acceptance. A perfect contrast to his usual “never give up, never back down” attitude. I think it adds a lot more realism to his character and shows that the one thing that can break him is losing one of his brothers. This is something that you don’t really see in the show (other than for a short period of time eg. Skorka) which I think would have been a great way to develop his character more.
When they get Private back at the end of the movie, you get to see Skipper’s sweet side again and his character development comes full circle - he learns to stop undermining Private. He realises he was wrong and tries to make it right. In a way, I guess he takes accountability. Which you don’t see all that often in the show, only episodes like Needle Point coming to mind when thinking about it.
I think that this is another big reason why I prefer movie Skipper over tv Skipper - yeah, he’s a bit flawed and a little simpler than tv Skip, but he makes an effort to change in the end which tv Skipper doesn’t do as much. Movie Skipper is nonchalant, sassy, suave and by the end, pretty sweet. I guess you could say he’s pretty well written and honestly I wish we got to see more of his softer side and less paranoid attitude at the end of the show.
That’s not to say I hate tv Skipper tho, when i was a kid I LOVED him a lot more than movie Skip and I still find him rlly funny, I mean Skipper is Skipper haha. I guess my opinion just changed bc I grew up and I started seeing characters differently and started valuing character development a lot more, but who knows, maybe in a year it’ll change again lmao.
I am so sorry this got so out of hand and turned into a mf essay 💀 I promise the other analysis will be shorter 🙏
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melodygatesauthor · 2 days
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Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three
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Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈
Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).
Summary (Entire Fic Summary)
After replacing the loathsome former staff manager of the National Art Gallery in London, you find yourself all too interested in one of your employees in particular. Manager and employee relationships aren't allowed, and even if they were, you aren't sure if the nervous gift shoppist would be interested in you anyway. There's only one way to find out...
Reader Inclusivity
Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen
Tags/Warnings (for entire series)
NSFW, writer is NOT from the UK so please be gentle, I did my best with UK terms and such, smut, anal sex, oral sex, anal creampies, cum eating, cum swallowing, rough sex, Marc has DID, reader has mild PTSD, PTSD symptoms, trauma responses, semi-public sex, praise kink, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, love, forbidden relationship (boss and employee), minor physical violence.
Word Count: 3.1k
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“Wait love wait!”
The entire demeanor of the man in front of you changed into the sweet, caring man that you were smitten with. You let go of him, stepping back and looking down at him with a furrowed brow. You felt your heart racing as your fight or flight kicked in. Steven looked nervous as he stepped forward, pressing his palm to your broad chest.
“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”
“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.
“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.
He gulped, rubbing your clothed pecks with his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your button-down. He tried smiling at you, biting his bottom lip. You didn’t like making Steven so frightened so you let out a deep exhale. If he wasn’t scared or in danger, then you didn’t need to be so on edge. You nodded slowly.
Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”
You watched in awe as Steven’s eyes rolled back in his head and then his body changed again. He stood a little taller, and his expression appeared a little darker. The man breathed deeply, looking up at you before pulling his hand off your body as though he’d been burned. He averted his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks get a little more rosy.
“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.
“Look, I told Steven you weren’t ready for this conversation but he insisted we have it so…here we are. He said it was gettin’ serious with you and he didn’t want any more secrets between you two,” he cleared his throat nervously, “my name is Marc Spector.” The man shrugged, “I guess the easiest way to tell you is to just get it out there so…I have an identity disorder as a result of my childhood trauma.”
You both stood silently for a moment while you absorbed the information. You recalled your time in the British Armed Forces, and some of the horrific things you’d seen. Trauma caused the brain to do amazing things; Things that were difficult to explain sometimes. You understood trauma well. You looked at Marc’s face, seeing the seriousness behind his eyes. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t some guy trying to mess with you, or pull a fast one on you. This was a man who had been through something horrible, or several horrible things, and it caused his mind to tear at the seams.
You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”
Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”
You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”
“I…Steven, wants me to, he wants you to know, and he’s right…I need to be the one to tell you, because I’m the one who was there.” He looked away from you and at the floor, “our mom used to beat me, she hated me.”
You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.
“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”
“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.
I was awkward as hell to stand there while Marc cried, but you were glad he was getting it off his chest. You wondered if he’d ever shared this with anyone, or if it was only you. Either way, you knew he wasn’t sharing for his own sake, but instead for Steven’s, and you could respect that. When you look back now, you think that on the same day you met Marc, was the day you fell in love with him too, but you didn’t realize it yet.
“There’s another one too,” Marc looked at the water glass on the table.“Steven, I have to tell him.” You watched the - from your perspective - one sided conversation between Marc and Steven. “You didn’t want to keep this a secret but you want to keep him a secret? St–” Marc grumbled and then looked at you, “I’m telling you, even though Steven doesn’t want me to.”
“Tellin’ me what?”
“Jake is the third one of us. You may never meet him, but he’s here nonetheless,” Marc let out a sharp exhale, “We don’t really see him much either, but…the three of us get along…kinda.”
“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.
You watched Marc’s entire body language change. It wasn’t like before when he switched from Steven to himself, but instead, it looked like his entire body relaxed with your reassurance. Marc looked like he might collapse and start crying again right then and there. You wondered when the last time he’d talked to someone about this was…if he’d ever talked to someone about this.
“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.
“Had a boatload of therapy,” you shrugged, “I learnt long ago that you can’t really tell how the mind is gonna deal with trauma.” You thought now was as good a time as any to change the subject, seeing that Marc was getting uncomfortable again. “So are you…do you like…” you pointed to yourself. Of course you would hop from one uncomfortable topic to another.
Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”
Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.
“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.
“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.
You could tell he cared about Steven, and so the two of you had that much in common, but that wasn’t the last time you saw Marc. You saw him again when you and Steven got into your first argument. It wasn’t anything serious, but it seemed to upset Steven enough to force him into the headspace.
The argument was stupid, and if you were being honest, it was a little funny. Steven walked into your office one afternoon, closing the door behind himself. He was stammering, as he often did when he was thinking about what he wanted to say faster than the words could come out. You chuckled, standing up and walking over to him, cupping his face.
“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.
“Gettin’ fed up with Linda not pickin’ up her mess in the break room,” Steven groaned, “I know s’not a big deal, not really, but I told her three times to pick up after herself and she still acts like a right slob.”
“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.
“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”
“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.
He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”
You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”
Steven had joked about wanting to blow you under your desk, but he’d never actually done it yet. In fact, he hadn’t blown you before at all. He acted like you were doing him a favor when you sat down in your big office chair with your legs spread out and his face between them. The way his eyes went wide with excitement and he started drooling you would’ve thought he was the one getting a blowjob.
He looked hungry, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of your pants as he released your cock from its confines. He always - always - made a comment about how big you were. His eyes crossed as your dick lined up between them, and he seemed breathless despite not yet having done anything at all.
“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”
He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.
“I want to,” he said softly.
Steven licked a stripe up your length, forcing your cock to twitch in response. You grabbed the arms of your chair as he repeated the gesture. You bucked your hips upward involuntarily. Steven giggled and looked up at you.
“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”
“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Steven nodded with a shaky breath, smile fading at your words. You felt bad being so verbally rough with him sometimes, but you knew he enjoyed it. Whenever the two of you were in bed together it was like flipping a switch, making him hard in an instant. You slid down further in your chair, moving one of your hands to the back of his curly head.
He licked up your length again before taking the head in his mouth. You shuddered seeing Steven’s lips stretched around your fat dick. It seemed like he really was made to take it, sliding over the length as though his gag reflex was nonexistent. You exhaled sharply, feeling the way his tongue rolled over the underside of your shaft.
“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”
You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.
“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”
Steven moaned over your length as he started bobbing his head in a delicious rhythm. He took one hand off your thighs and you heard the clank of his belt while he started freeing his own cock. The sound of him jerking himself could just barely be heard over the sound of him choking on your dick.
He looked up at you with affectionate and tear glossed eyes when you carded your hand through his hair. You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips slowly forward into his mouth, brushing your pubes against his nose as he took every single inch you had to offer.
“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”
You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.
“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”
Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.
Steven made himself as hidden as he could in the space under your desk, where the intruder wouldn’t be able to see him. You rolled up as close as you could get without crushing him in there. John, your boss, walked in, smiling big. He stepped over, putting a hand on the varnished surface of the desk, leaning in to talk to you.
“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.
You felt Steven between your legs trying to put your cock back in your pants, but struggling given its current…state. You were close before while he had it buried in his throat, and that hadn’t changed in the seconds that had gone by. You were still close, and him moving it around wasn’t helping that issue. You kept your eyes on John, but tried like hell to push Steven’s hands and face away from you, but to no avail.
“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”
Steven didn’t get the hint, he was still sliding his hand over your length, trying to get it back inside your boxers. You couldn’t try very hard to stop him, or it would be obvious you were trying to do something under your desk, so you stopped trying, and just hoped that John would leave before…oh god.
You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”
To John, you must’ve looked insane, like you were staring at him wide-eyed and shouting for no apparent reason. To you and Steven, you were coming, hot ropes of your spend hitting your boyfriend in the face under the desk. You managed to keep yourself from saying anything too telling, and you kept your breathing level…as level as you could.
“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”
“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”
As he walked out, you rolled back in your chair to see Steven’s pretty face covered in globs of your spend. He looked pissed off, crawling out from under the desk and grabbing a few tissues from your desk to clean himself off.
“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”
“You…did this…all over my face!”
“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”
“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”
“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”
“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”
You could see the embarrassment in his flush cheeks. He seemed exasperated, chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. He wasn’t really mad at you, but you doubted you’d be getting another ‘under the desk’ blow job any time soon.
“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”
“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.
“No!” he pushed you off of him, “no, m’not gonna let you just kiss this one away. We could’ve been caught, you’re reckless and this isn’t like me at all! I don’t do things like this!” Steven stormed out of your office, passing John on his way out.
That was it…that was the argument.
You supposed that with Steven never having really been in a relationship before, an argument with his first ever significant other could be upsetting, despite it being such a silly thing to argue over. Taking that into consideration, you decided to tread lightly when you got home, toeing off your shoes in the entryway of his flat when you arrived almost silently. That’s when you noticed that Marc was there, not Steven.
“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”
You shook your head, “no thanks.”
It was like Steven had a roommate. At least…that’s how it felt. Marc was the more stern one, like he was the polar opposite of Steven, but you didn’t mind. You liked the company regardless. Marc was a good guy, you could just tell. After a couple of minutes talking about the weather, the two of you managed to get into something more serious. 
“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.
“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”
After a few drinks, you and Marc were trading war stories and with it, your tales of trauma. You wondered how long it was going to take him to open up to you about why and how Steven came to be, but there Marc was, letting down his always stoic demeanor in order to open himself up to you.
He cried, and you opened your arms to him.
“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”
You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”
You tugged his jacket and pulled his rigid frame into your arms, wrapping them around him tightly. At first he was stiff, still mumbling some protests, but then you felt him exhale, like his entire body were a balloon being emptied of the air inside of it. That’s when the heavier sobs came, tears spilling out of his eyes and onto your forearm.
“Steven is so good, and sometimes I think it would just be best if I don’t ever come out. Sometimes I think that the world would be a better place without me in it,” he said between heavy cries. He looked up at you, “Steven could be happy, and be with you all the time and–”
“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.
You didn’t have to worry about feeling awkward though, because he leaned up and slotted his lips over yours all on his own. You pulled back in surprise, wondering if he did that by mistake or not, or if Steven had decided to come back when you didn’ notice.
“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.
He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.
You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”
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Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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squipedmew · 6 months
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gay people can never confess normally they’re always doing shit like sending their alter egos to duke it out in another dimension as a representation of their emotional issues
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brutal-out-here · 4 months
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- Or comment/tag for Rowen Taylor
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ciaoteamo · 18 days
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Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
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art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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hkcomplex · 4 months
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There is a fairly significant bit of wordplay in Frieren that will escape the notice of most English-speaking viewers, but I quite like it so I’ll explain it here. The title of the series in Japanese is 葬送のフリーレン (Sousou no Furiiren). “Furiiren” is of course Frieren; “sousou” means “funeral rites” or “attending a funeral”, but can literally be translated as “sending to the grave”. Since the story opens with Frieren watching her old adventuring pals growing old and passing away, we’re naturally led to the simple interpretation of the title: she’s attending her friends’ funerals.
(The full official English title is Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, because literal translations rarely make catchy titles.)
Later, as Frieren is fighting Aura, Lügner explains that Frieren is the most prolific demon-killer in history. In the English translations I’ve seen, this earns her the nickname “Frieren the Slayer”. But in the original Japanese, this nickname is 葬送のフリーレン: “Sousou no Furiiren”, the title of the series.
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In this context, this line (and the title, too) could be more literally interpreted as “Frieren, who sends you to your grave”. It also means the line is a little more impactful in Japanese — you’re supposed to point at the screen and yell “hey that’s the name of the show!!”
There’s really just no way to preserve wordplay like this through translation so I can’t fault the translators at all for not trying, but it’s a fun thing that’s worth pointing out nonetheless. I just love that this was clearly something the author was setting up from the very beginning.
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pizzabookbuying · 1 year
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gosh I’m a LITTLE heartbroken
#YES! I skipped 90% of the season after watching part of the first episode so I could see the finale#and yes!! I’m confused!!!#and YES!!! I really REALLY wish they’d kept the title Darkling because the INTIMACY of Alina saying his name while he dies at her hand is so#I NEED SOULMATES WHOSE CIRCUMSTANCES AND ACTIONS MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO EVER BE TOGTWHR OKAY!!!!! I NEED THAT!!!! and instead…oh boy.#why did they condense two books in one???? why???#also I wish they’d kept the slow burn of their power dynamic. like aleksander has the power all the way through the second book until the#climax. and then through the third book you see aleksander is growing more and more desperate and Alina is more and more resolved it’s so go#I don’t even know if I’ll watch the whole season I might just reread the books#i know seige and storm had some pacing issues but it’s my favorite because there’s so much depth to Alina#also idk just from the few scenes I’ve watched the strange intimacy between Alina and the Darkling isn’t really present in the series#or if it is it’s very one sided#also I love that there are some very minor elements that tell us Alina isn’t 100% reliable as a narrator and I LOVE the sorts of possibiliti#that opens up. (see: the scene where someone is spoon feeding Alina and it’s implied to be the Darkling)#Alina assumes that any and all intimacy was manipulation and because she’s the narrator thts the way the story is told. but there r MOMENTS#and I LOVE THE NUANCE#this series seems to not have that :/ which is…okay…but not my sort of thing#oh my word kf you didn’t know I’ve written two fanfics for these two and in neither do they end up together#me when complex characters are complex!!!!#me when I’m able to explore details of the characterization liel the rabid little animal I am!!!!#GOSH I THINK IM RE-ENTERING I HYPERFIXATION!!! YAY!!!!!
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤
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pairing: rafe cameron x camgirl!reader
summary: ❝screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need to feel like i do.❞ — rafe cameron is your top donator, having been tuning into your live streams for several months. one night of texting and spilling too much details has you and rafe running into each other at a party, and knowing exactly who eachother is. even when you’ve only ever streamed anonymously.
warnings: shy!reader, mentions of porn, masturbation (with a toy), praise, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, solo orgasm, squirting, flirty text messages, reader is super nervous but finds the whole thing thrilling nonetheless
word count: 3.2k
a/n: series masterlist <3 part two here
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rafe was hooked the second he saw your pussy on his screen. the way he found your live was nothing but pure accident, but when he heard your pretty voice and your even prettier moans, he couldn’t look away. that was about seven months ago, and he’s been tuning into your lives ever since, even making himself your top gifter so he had a special banner next to his name when he joined your chat. tonight was no different, he’d pop in, compliment the hell out of you, spam you with gifts and just have your moans playing in his headphones as he finished up some work for cameron development on the computer.
rafe never jacked off to porn, considering every woman he’s ever prompted to have sex with bent at his will. apart of him thought that’s why he liked you so much. your identity was a secret so he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what you looked like off camera. there was anticipation, desire, he craved you like no other; and he didn’t even know anything personal about you. “hello everyone! i’m going to wait a few minutes to let more people join before i get started.” rafe took in your cute lingerie, loving the sheer material of your top.
you wore white knee high socks with pink bows at the top. “fuck,” he whispered to himself, typing up a quick greeting.
rafecam: hey gorgeous
it was quiet for a few seconds before your perfectly manicured hand waved at the camera. “hi, rafe! always lovely to see you in here.” you smiled even though your face wasn’t in frame. truth be told, you actually enjoyed having him in your live. besides ensuring you three to seven hundred dollars a stream, he had a way with words, most, if not all of his comments always made butterflies flutter in your stomach. you watched as the numbers rose on your view count, your fingers teasing the waistband of your panties.
rafe groaned, quickly locking his door as he stood his phone up on his work desk. “alright, it looks like i have a good amount of you in here, so i have some exciting news to share with all of you!” you angled the camera so your ass looked fuller. “my top donators can now message me privately! i’m very excited to interact personally with some of you.. rafe especially.” you giggled, watching the influx of angry emojis flooding your chat. rafe bit his lip, sending you a hundred dollars. “ah!” you squealed, bouncing up and down in your plush chair, rafe’s eyes glued to your tits.
“see! he takes care of me every stream..” you trailed off, leaning back in your seat, bringing your knees up to your chest. “i missed everyone so much,” you half moaned, letting your tits spill out of your bra, “i haven’t touched myself since last week.. i think i’m extra sensitive this evening.” you parted your legs, your pantyclad cunt on full display. rafe licked his lips, noting the small damp spot between your folds. “i’ve been thinking.. since it’s friday i’ll let you guys choose what i do today.” you clicked your mouse a couple times, a poll popping up on the screen.
y/n wants you to pick..
- try out a new toy w/ me <3
- feeling simple, only fingers today
rafe thought for a second, instead of choosing between the two, he proposed something different.
rafecam: how about you fuck yourself with that pretty clear pink dildo of yours and moan my name when you cum?
you read his comment, your thighs rubbing together. rafe felt the corner of his lip lift as he watched you get up, coming back with the same dildo he was talking about. “i don’t normally do name tributes, but you’ve been pretty consistent rafe.. so why not?” you watched as donations started coming in, all asking for a name tribute. rafe felt himself getting annoyed with the other men in your stream, sending you no where near as the amount he sends you, asking you to say their name too.
without hesitation, rafe sent you three hundred dollars, with the added note; thank you beautiful. “what?!” you gasped, having reached your money goal for the day. “you’re too sweet, thank you,” you emphasized the ‘you.’, moving the camera up so the lower half of your face was now in frame. rafe sat mesmerized by the fullness of your lips, and that pretty smile before you brought the dildo up to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. “fuck,” rafe felt himself getting hard in his shorts as you started taking inch by inch into your throat. you moaned, and for the first time ever he felt jealous that it wasn’t his cock instead.
you smiled, tapping the damned thing on your tongue before you got back in your original position, this time your underwears were gone, and your cunt sparkled with your slick. you ran the tip down your folds, teasing your entrance as rafe watched intensely. a whine cut through the air as you inserted the toy, your fingers circling your clit. rafe glanced at your hands, you had french tips on your nails and silver rings on your fingers, he even saw a small bow tattoo on the side of your middle finger.
“i don’t know everyone, this feels like it might be a short stream.” you laughed nervously, your eyebrows knitting in pleasure as you kept a steady pace. “mhmm, fuck,” you gasped, hitting the spot that made your eyes screw shut. rafe’s jaw ticked as he tried his best to ignore his growing erection. “this feels so good, i haven’t been fucked in so long..” you were telling the truth. you’ve been a homebody since exams started and you really weren’t the one for casual hook ups either. you could barely contain your moans as you rubbed your clit faster. rafe found your struggling not to cum too soon to be the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
your obvious desperation to get yourself off, paired with the restrain to let yourself over the edge was truly a glorious sight. rafe ached in his boxers, refusing to be like every other loser in your livestream. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, your head rolling to the side as you started to hear your heartbeat in your ears. rafe could tell by the way you were clenching around the toy that he now hated, you were close to finishing. rafe didn't know what he wanted to do to more now; edge you for hours until you're begging him for his cock, or making you cum so many times that you cry.
"i don't think i could hold off anymore," you cried, your thighs shaking as you plummeted into pure bliss. "rafe!" you cried, cumming harder than you could currently handle. "oh, my god," his name falling from your lips is forever going to be ingrained in his brain. you shook violently, still fucking yourself as you felt a pressure in your lower abdomen. "i think i'm go-" you screamed, feeling a gush come from your cunt. rafe's mouth fell open as if he was moaning silently. "what a fucking show." he whispered to himself, your legs trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "i've never done that before." your voice was weak as you laid with your thighs open, your pussy still on full display. rafe watched your tits rise and fall with each breath, your hands resting on your stomach as you gathered yourself.
after a minute, you sat up, pulling a pink robe over yourself as you blew a kiss to the camera. "i really enjoyed tonight's stream, but if you can't tell i'm exhausted," you laughed, your hair falling to your waist, "i'm going to go clean up and get cozy for bed, but i hope to see some messages from my top donators now! all you have to do is click the message icon when you view my page. until next time!" you ended the live, a sigh falling from your lips.
rafe stared at the blank screen, his cock painfully hard. he decided he was going to clean up as well, a cold shower is what he needed right now. although the idea seemed to be a good one, he still fisted his cock to the echoing sound of you moaning his name. during your own shower, you wondered if rafe would message you, apart of you really hoped he did. even though you hadn't viewed his account, he seemed like someone you could have good conversation with. it wasn't until after you got in your pj's, did your skin care routine, and settled into your sheets that you pulled your laptop up, where twelve messages awaited. rafecam being one of them. saving the best for last, you answered the other messages first, opening rafe's with a smile on your lips.
[9:12 PM] rafecam: i won't lie, i debated with myself if whether or not i should send you a message. i don't watch porn, i never masturbated, i didn't have to. but tonight i found myself doing both of those things. just thought i'd let you know that.
you read his message several times, examining the words one by one until it was brainrot. it's rare for a man to say he doesn't have to pleasure himself, presumably because he has willing candidates at the snap of a finger. clicking his username, you scrolled through his public information, wanting to know something, anything about this mystery of a, quite generous, viewer. age; twenty-two, joined; july of 2023, resides in; outer banks. your eyes widened, your heart dropping in panic. he was so much closer than you thought. maybe a little too much. you were just one ferry away on the mainland. your roommate, however, is from outer banks herself. fuck, what if she knew this guy? you breathed out, staring at nothing as you started to rethink your life choices.
what are the chances that you would even see each other? there's nothing on outer banks that would make you go over there, and vice versa, or at least that's what you told yourself when you typed up a response.
[9:20 PM] y/n: well i'm happy that you messaged me. as for getting yourself off to the thought of me? i would say that means i'm doing something right lol.
[9:22 PM] rafecam: most definitely. are you going to sleep already?
[9:23 PM] y/n: not yet, i thought about watching a movie or something before then. you?
[9:25 PM] rafecam: nah, i'm actually catching up on a lot of work right now, it's kind of stressing me out. nothing new though.
you bit your lip, hesitating to send your next reply, not knowing if you'd be getting too personal or not.
[9:28 PM] y/n: what kind of work? are you currently in school?
[9:30 PM] rafecam: no actually, i co-own my dad's company and he has me in charge of ordering all of our supplies and taking inventory, boring stuff really :/
[9:32 PM] y/n: sounds like you're a very hard worker, i like that. i've been having to catch up on some work myself..
[9:32 PM] rafecam: school?
[9:35 PM] y/n: unfortunately yes lol. i'm majoring in psychology so it keeps me very occupied.
[9:36 PM] rafecam: is that why you stream?
you sucked in a breath. honestly, school was the only reason why you decided to start your channel. your parents helped you out a lot, already having your semesters and books covered, but it was up to you to make extra money for yourself.
[9:40 PM] y/n: yes. i try my best though.
[9:41 PM] rafecam: i respect it. well, i'll let you do your thing, i'm hoping to finish what i have to do tonight so i won't have to worry about it tomorrow. the last thing i want to do is work on my birthday lol.
[9:44 PM] y/n: omg!! happy early birthday <3 am i the first one to tell you?
[9:45 PM] rafecam: lol yes, thank you sweetheart.
[9:47 PM] y/n: aww you're welcome. i'm gonna send you a little gift for yourself, these are never before seen, i hope you like them.
you attached four images from your own camera roll, two with lingerie and two fully nude. a lot of the times you took pictures but just for yourself mostly. it wouldn't hurt to share these, especially with someone who contributed a lot to you. rafe leaned back in his chair, admiring the photos you sent him.
[9:50 PM] rafecam: so much for showering lol, thank you for these, gorgeous. goodnight.
-
“will you please just go out with me? we’ve been roommates for almost a year and we’ve never hung out outside of school and here. my friends from back home would love you. i wouldn’t leave your side either, promise.” you looked up at chelsea with unease. after finding out that rafe lived on the outer banks, you didn’t want to go anywhere near there. “i really can’t, okay? i’m serious, i have so much stuff to do.” minor stuff, but still. you weren’t in the party mood, but to see chelsea so excited about something and then shrinking into herself cause you said no broke your heart.
“please.” she pouted, her hands coming together as if she was going to pray. outer banks wasn’t that small, and if the party she was talking about was a true rager, there’d probably be way too many people to even run into rafe, if the man was even there. you were being ridiculous and overthinking the situation. “okay.” you sighed, chelsea squealing as she pulled you to her room. “let’s get you ready.”
four hours later, you and chelsea were stepping out of an uber, both of you glancing at each other before taking in the scene before you. there was people already passed out face down on the lawn, even some walking on top of the roof with beers in their hands. “what the fuck.” you muttered to yourself, taking chelsea’s arm in yours as you two made your way inside. even though you felt confident in your white babydoll dress and sandals, you couldn’t help but notice that everyone was wearing either a bikini or a collared shirt.
“no offense chels, but was there a dress code we didn’t know about?” you laughed, your friend smirking. “this is what being a kook looks like.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. what the hell is a kook?
“hey, who’s the birthday boy anyways?” you and chelsea moved through the sea of people in what you assumed was the living room. chelsea squinted, looking towards a small group of guys by the back door. “right over there. tall one with the buzz cut.” she pulled you to the front so you could get a clear view. and what a view it was. the man in question was so tall, he made his peers look ridiculously small. sharp features, but his eyes were soft. “come on, let me introduce you.” you followed your friend, hoping you didn’t look like the way you felt; out of place and shy.
“yo, chelsea!” another guy pulled her in for a hug. you hated how awkward you stood there, too nervous to look up until chels started talking. “guys, this is my roomate and best friend y/n, y/n that’s topper, kelce, warren.. and the man of the hour, rafe.” your smile dropped as soon as the name fell from her lips. it couldn’t be. making a quick recovery, you nodded to each of them, your eyes landing on rafe, your heart skipping a beat when you saw he was already looking at you. rafe whispered your name to himself before saying it out loud. “y/n?” you nodded slowly, chels making conversation with others nearby. “that’s a pretty name.” he extended a hand, his frame towering over yours. your knees felt weak with the look he had on you right now.
“thank you.” you swallowed, giving him your hand. he held it, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “i’ve never seen you around here, did you stay here on figure eight?” figure eight? you shook your head. “no i’m from the city. me and chels- i mean chelsea and i go to school together.” he studied you for a minute. “what’s your major?” fuck. your lips parted, psychology spilling from your mouth before you could stop it. as if something clicked in his head, you internally panicked as you remembered your conversation from last night.
“psychology? you don’t say..” rafe trailed off, finally letting go of your hand. you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “enough about me,” you cleared your throat, “how old are you today.. rafe?” you were hesitant to say his name, somehow saying it out loud made everything feel too real. if he said the number you were anticipating, you might just have it in you to run away from all of this. “twenty three.” and there it was, the answer you were dreading.
it’s rafe, the same rafe that has sent you thousands of dollars over the course of seven months. the same rafe you moaned the name of last night, the same rafe you sent explicit photos to. it had to be. with a house as big as this, and the quiet luxury of his clothing, it would explain why he’s been able to shower you in donations. suddenly the room felt small, realization of the situation hitting you tenfold. “come with me upstairs. just to talk, it’s too loud down here.” you looked back at chelsea, your friend no where to be found. so much for not leaving your side.
“i think i should go.” you glanced up at him, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “just one conversation. that’s all i’m asking.” he pleaded, his shoulders falling in relief when you nodded. he guided you upstairs and into a room where he shut the door behind both of you. you took a seat on the bed, rafe leaning back against the door. “you know.. i never bring anyone up here. but you? i don’t mean to sound like a stalker or anything, but i feel like i know you.” his words sent a shiver down your spine. “i’m sorry, but i think you’re wrong.” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding his gaze the best you can.
rafe tilted his head, walking over to you, squatting down before taking your hands in his. he turned your palms over, noting the same manicure, same rings, and the same bow tattoo he saw last night. his heart constricted in his chest when he looked up at you, your face just inches away from his own. you were the most perfect little thing in his grasp. “y/n, sweetheart, i’m gonna ask you something and you’re going to be one hundred percent honest with me.” you waited for his next words like you were waiting for a sentence from a judge. you knew he cracked the code.
“what are the odds that you’re a camgirl?”
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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blame tumblr for deleting my draft and make me rework this with rush— now girlies, imagine jealous neteyam pull you to his side, claiming you as his yes? this is the long awaited update (pt 3) of the i trusted you series.
warnings - hard angst, vulgar language, jealous neteyam i repeat, JEALOUSY NETEYAM! ugh, cussing, neteyam is tired of hurting and trying, kiri is best girl for boosting up neteyam to make a step kinda? that’s it for now!
likes and reblogs are appreciated for the final part! i love each and every one of you babies mwah!! — 3.2k wc and poor-ish grammar
“i want to trust you.” — neteyam sully (★,꩜)
here’s part (one) – (two) — (four) of this series
neteyam’s state wasn’t good when he went back home.
you’re leaving the clan because of him, you’re leaving your home, your childhood, your everything because of him.
you’re leaving him because of him.
still not accepting the words you’ve said to him, he hadn’t noticed his younger sister waiting for him right when he got back to the village, hunting long forgotten.
kiri on other hand had enough, she’s tired of seeing her brother suffer for what he was trying to make right, especially after that night. the night she saw her perfect brother kneel in front of a female na’vi begging you not to go.
“neteyam,” his name being called, pulls him out from his thoughts and his tired eyes land on his sister who has her arms crossed against her chest. “what part of leave me alone don’t they understand?” neteyam silently says under his breath
“you know i can hear you right?” kiri scoffs
“what part of i want to be alone don’t you all understand?” this time he says it clearly and louder. neteyam doesn’t give her time before walking past her and if only if it wasn't for her next words? he wouldn’t have frozen at his spot.
“if you love her, go for her.”
there she goes again, now he needs to tell her he doesn’t want to hear anything about that future mate of his, that female na’vi he doesn’t even want.
“kiri.” he starts to turn and face her, his amber eyes swollen and puffy it makes her sad. “i’ll say this for the last time, i don’t want anyone to bring äy—“
“i’m not talking about äyea and you know it.”
his heart dropped, amber eyes slightly widening like he was caught. neteyam searches for more explanation from his sister, kiri softly smiles and he definitely knows who she’s talking about
“y/n, neteyam, i’m talking about y/n.” his skin itches at your name being called and he walks fast to his sister before grabbing her by her arms. nobody has to know, not like this and he won't risk to lose you like this
“look, you can’t tell no one, okay?” he’s shaking his sister so hard that her shoulders are hurting. “i can't lose her, if the clan knows they’ll take her away from me.” his body is trembling, neteyam’s mind was too occupied with the worst scenarios that would happen if they find out about you just like this.
kiri closes her eyes and calms herself before trying to do the same for her brother. “nete, calm down” she places her small hands on his cheek. “you’ve to calm down, for her?” she knew you’re his weakness and he would do anything with your name
“i won’t tell anyone.” kiri watches neteyam’s eyes blink, confused and processing her words, “but you must tell them, everyone, tell everyone neteyam.”
he’s slowly sliding his hands down her arms and letting her go, what is she saying?
“i saw everything, the night she knew about it and how you were.” kiri didn’t want to look like she sneaked into someone's business. “i’ve never seen you so weak like this brother, you’re giving up something that makes you happy.”
where is this going? why is she not yelling at him that he failed to be perfect?
“i know you’re soon to be mated but why when you’re not happy? not wanting it, not in love.” neteyam takes every word of hers carefully. “if this is the future you want with her then make a progress.”
“i’m tired of hearing you cry yourself to sleep, starve yourself and worry mom and dad.” he felt like a child. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs and kiri sighs, “you don’t have to apologize for everything.”
neteyam was feeling his heartbeats quickening at his younger sister's words but it’s also painful when he remembers he can’t do that cause you’re gonna be gone, soon… very soon.
“she’s le-leaving,” his words are cut when his voice quivers, kiri gasps at the news. “she said she feels like she doesn’t belong here.” he’s now looking down to avoid kiri’s eyes or he’ll cry
“she’s leaving me, kiri” his sister only pulls him close to hug him and he drops his body on her, head on her shoulder. “i love her and she’s leaving, i’m losing her.” he wants the pain to end, he’s tired of hurting
“oh brother.” kiri pats his head, even though neteyam was the smartest and perfect to hide his emotions, this was too much. he’s literally crumbling down. “it’ll be okay, everything will be okay.”
“it will be okay, everything will be okay.” your mother pats your hair when you lean on her shoulders and cry. all you do is cry, you feel bad.
you’re debating on leaving everything behind and running to your neteyam but then again there’s his future mate being a wall to your love. “it’ll be over soon when we leave.”
if not soulmates why bound to fall in love and hurt?
eywa was not fair, she’s not fair with her doings and you don’t want it. you want him, you want your man, you want neteyam, you miss him so bad.
the ritual is in two days and you’re not ready to watch them or give them your blessing as a part of a clan. once the ceremony is done you know they’ll go home, you don’t even want to think what they’ll do after that.
they’ll have a fruit of love, a baby in the future… what about you? supposed to move on? no, you can’t do that.
“we’ve got to get ready, my sweet child,” your mother says as she eyes the hammock that sheltered you for years. everything is packed, ready and done.
while you’re struggling to make the pain hurt less, neteyam is struggling to make his heart beat less.
it’s now an eclipse and everyone is ready for dinner, “mom! what’s for dinner?” tuk whines when netyiri brings the bowls and trays at the wooden table. “you’ll see baby” she kneels down to finally join her family.
it doesn’t fail to catch her by surprise when her first born is sat across the right side of the table. “neteyam?” her eyes start to whelm when her son smiles at her, oh how she missed having him around the table to eat with them.
“he’s here just like you want him.” jake says and neteyam nods.
neytiri only lets soft laugh out and places a bowl for him. “eat this, it’ll help you get strength for your training.” she motions him to take his food.
kiri silently watches everyone, a smile painting her lips as she sips on her soup.
“tastes good?” neteyam nervously nods, the only thing he’s thinking is a way to bring up his love topic to them. it wasn’t much late before he’s opening his mouth to speak and lo’ak suddenly interrupted
“dad, mom i ne–…”
“tuk stop doing that, you’ll choke.” lo’ak scolds at his sister and neteyam shuts his lips quick. maybe it’s the right thing not to say anything right now.
“tuk, listen to your brother honey” jake says and turns to neteyam, “what were you saying son?”
neteyam shakes his head, “never mind i’ll talk to you guys later.” he doesn’t ignore how kiri lightly groans when he backs out. “i’ll head inside now.” he rubs his sweaty hands on his thighs and gets back to his feet
“you didn’t even touch your food.” now that’s a lie, he actually scooped two times and ate.
“i ate mom, it’s delicious t-thanks.” he hates when the last word breaks. on eywa he’s so nervous.
kiri was quick to follow his steps when he left and luckily her parents didn't question. she was fast to catch up with her brother and yanks his arms to make him face her, “what was that?” she raises her eyebrows
“what was what?”
“don’t play dumb with me right now.” kiri warns and neteyam clears his throat
“i’m scared okay!” he hissed, “i’m so fucking nervous my skin is crawling to leave my bones.” his sister only rolls her eye, “seriously— we’ve talked about this! not being a little scared ass to be telling them.”
“what happened to that?” she crosses her arms.
“kiri,” he sighs and drops his head down, shoulders easing. “you don’t understand how dangerous this is, what if–“
“what if they hurt her?”
neteyam was awfully silent and that answers her question. “you know mom and dad, they don’t do anything about what you care and love…” kiri slowly stops when neteyam shakes his head
“not them,” it’s not them he’s scared of, it’s äyea’s parents he’s scared of, he knows they would do anything to make their little perfect daughter that matches with him, or whatever they say.
kiri presses her lips to a straight line before clicking her tongue.
this is gonna be a bad idea or the best idea she has ever made and decided to tell him aways. neteyam’s eyes widen when his sister pulls him away from their family, what she’s gonna tell him is the only chance to get you back and win your trust and she’s sure neteyam will do it,
do anything for you.
೫ time skip — mating ritual ceremony
your new outfit makes your curves more defined, way more defined than your usual loin clothes that you wear.
your skin shining smoothly, the leaves barely covering your breast, you looked ethereal with your hair not braided and freely displayed all over your shoulders
“honey, are you ready?”
your mother’s words make you gulp and suck a deep breath. “we must be there early to leave early!” she tells while being in the other room.
you finally check yourself and talk back, “yeah, i’m ready.” you whisper morley to yourself? swallowing the lump on your throat.
“yeah, i’m ready.” neteyam closes his eyes and breaths trying to focus on not messing up everything, he’s not even sure if you’ll show up and some part of him wishes you do show up
extra loincloths and decorations on his body makes him uncomfortable with its weight crushing him down.
netyiri proudly looks at her son’s figure while the kids are outside, “mother.” the sudden call of her name, netyiri answers quickly. “what is it? nervous?”
neteyam gulps down his fear and walks to her, “i love you” netyiri feels her eyes tear up and smile at him, “your mom loves you too, baby.” neteyam envelopes her with a hug and netyiri cries to his shoulder telling him how he’s grown up
“now don’t mess my face up with tears! let’s get you ready there.” it’s time to face reality and wait for his soon to be mate come
when he’s out of his hammock, he’s greeted with his family smiling at him and jake’s proud smile. even half of the clan was standing at his hammock.
“neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan” everyone chants and neteyam feels his inside clench in discomfort. he doesn’t want this if it’s not with you, everything makes him sick. “c’mon son, let’s get you to the trees of voice, your mate is waiting.”
what the fuck, that was what neteyam said inside his head. what does his father mean when he’s gonna meet his mate under the trees of voice? it was all about you and him, neteyam would never mate with some random girl he is set up with in a place with memories filled with yours
neteyam turns to his sister and kiri has the same expression because what is this bullshit?
“nete’ she’s waiting for you.” his mother placed her hand on his back. no, no, no— his own feet are betraying him when he realize he’s walking and the clan opens way for him straight long line created till where he’s supposed to see äyea
you on other hand stand in line with the people and pray under your breath for eywa to give you a strength not to cry or make a scene, especially when they will be bound where you thought you and neteyam would have been
it doesn’t take long when starts to cheer as the future Olo'eyktan starts to get closer and closer.
lo’ak was the first one you saw from the sully families while he’s holding tuk close to him so she won’t get lost in the crowed. “Aeyaeyaeyaeyaye!” the clan yells
neteyam’s eyes keep searching for specific someone which is you, eyes desperately looking for you and feeling more scared and anxious when he can’t figure out your face from the crowd he takes a deep breath
you finally take his figure to your sight and god he was so beautiful.
your breath hitches at his appearance, the dangling material on his forehead making him look more attractive than he already is, you realize it’s so hard to let go of him.
you suck a deep breath when his eyes lands at yours and neteyam halts his pace, confusing everyone for a second. your tears are fast to blur your vision and you blink before looking away from him
his heart cracks when you do look away, you don’t want to see him and he understands
once neteyam passed you, the crowd surrounds him and cheers when he stepped close to where äyea is found.
you hate how your mother looks at you sympathetically while her hands grip yours tighter, “it’ll be over soon” she whispers to you but you shrug her off, only watching things unfold in front of you as your heart breaks
“it will be over soon.” neteyam says to himself
it’s sickening how everyone can’t notice this is not supposedly to happen, kiri’s plan better work or he’ll seriously fuck this ritual up and run away with you.
“son.” äyea’s father greets him and neteyam, bringing his hand to his forehead. “ty’mar, i see you.” he then turns to his soon to be mate’s mother and repeat his actions.
the way äyea was smiling makes your throat hurt from desperately wanting to cry.
‘no, don’t tell her you see her neteyam. please. please.’
äyea softly giggles when neteyam stands in front of her and blush, “neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan” the way she tries to voice out his name makes neteyam feel sick.
“i see you.” she says but neteyam doesn’t bother to say it back making her smile slightly fall.
netyiri also notices how neteyam is acting, what would possibly be bothering him? definitely not everything.
after everyone was introduced to each other, the ceremony began. drinks were served, everyone clapping and dancing to the songs the na’vi’s are singing.
you’re a little far away from the crowd to breath clear air and dry your tears that constantly burn your eyes. your eyes are on neteyam who isn’t enjoy one bit of the ceremony while his soon to be mate squirms and waves her hands up
both of them are sitting on a throne-like wooden chair, both of their parents beside them just say like them.
this is so depressing how awkward and uncomfortable it looks and actually is. you think, brining the drink to your mouth
you didn’t notice the na’vi male sneaking behind you that actually has been staring at you since you joined the crowd in line. “enjoying the party from far doesn’t seem too boring after all.”
you’re now jumping in fear when a breath hits the back of your ear.
“mother eyaw! who the fu–” you scream and stumble in panic, but before you’re falling you feel strong arms hold you on your ground. “shit, I should've announced i came, i’m sorry.”
you’re about to tell him it’s okay and leave when he’s offering his hand for a shake.
“i’m no’xus, by the way.” great, now you’re stuck talking with someone.
“y/n.” you say and turn over to place your drink on the talk flat table looking object, it’s obvious you’re ignoring him and uninterested but he keeps talking
“why’re you not dancing?” the tall na’vi asks and you face him before speaking, “because i don’t want to?” you just want this over and privacy, how hard can it get to understand!?
“mhm,” the male hums, “wanna dance with me?” at his offer, you scoff mentally and realize you’re not getting him away from you soon– before you reject him, a strong glare radiating from far makes your body tingle
it was neteyam, sending glares to the male who was next to you while sitting far away.
you didn’t bother it at first but the way neteyam’s face twists makes your brow raise. why is he bothered? jealous? if no’xus had not cleared his throat, you would’ve forgotten about what he just said.
“look notoxo, i really don’t feel like…” you watch him awkwardly chuckle and correct you.
“it’s no’xus not notoxo.”
“you know what? fuck it, let’s dance.” you’re pulling him to the crowd, maybe it’s the drink or maybe it’s him, it’s neteyam making you do this.
your mother was long gone to where you don’t know, no’xus was just a bonus to get your frustration out and you’re now dancing with him. too occupied to bother, you haven’t noticed how neteyam’s nose are flaring in anger
neteyam watches how you’re dancing and it’s very obvious it’s targeted to get him out of his mind
he is not even listening to äeya and brought himself up from his throne-like seat. rage and anger is in him, this needs to fucking stop or he’ll rip the male’s hand that’s holding you by your waist and moving you sides to side
all of his fear gone when the na’vi’s eyes are on him when he’s stepping down from his seat and walking straight to you
neteyam ignores his father’s call, sight on you and you only. you didn’t notice how he’s dangerously close until no’xus stopped his moving. “what is it?” you’re annoyed when your distracted self is brought back to reality
“put your hands off of her.” it was an order and no’xus looked at him manically. “i’m not fucking repeating myself.” all the na’vi’s are confused, even his parents and äeya’s family.
your body is jerked away from the stranger you just met and you hiss when neteyam tugs you close to him. what is he thinking? in front of everyone? his last words makes the whole omatikaya village gasp and whisper.
“fucking let go of what’s mine and find your own mate.” neteyam scowl’s dangerously.
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how’re we feeling, sweets? are we feeling anxious? excited? invested? spill in the comments cause i love reading your thoughts sjsjsj
also do you guys want a toe curling smut at the end or no? since neteyam is aged up!20 years old in this series, lmk in the comments if you want smut — tag list in the comments &lt;3
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.
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“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 
His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”
“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”
“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”
Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.
Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”
~
Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic. 
Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.
But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.
He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving — 
“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door. 
“Come in,” he calls back.
Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”
Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”
Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”
Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”
“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself. 
~
Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 
His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.
Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.
You.
You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.
Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.
He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.
Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.
Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.
As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.
You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.
Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?
He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.
You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you. 
Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you. 
But nothing. The seconds tick by.
You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”
You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”
He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.
“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.
Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”
Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”
College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”
“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”
“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”
“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”
“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”
“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.
Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”
“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”
A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”
There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”
Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.
“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”
You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win. 
“Sure. That would be really fun.”
He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —
“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.
“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”
“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”
You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer. 
Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”
“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”
He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is? 
From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it. 
Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”
Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.
Okay, okay. 
Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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kisses4reid · 1 month
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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store
warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness
genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.
“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.
a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.
you also had no idea who william blake was.
“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.
“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”
maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.
you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”
“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”
“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.
“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,
“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”
“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.
“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”
“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.
you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.
you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.
“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”
he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.
“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.
it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.
“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.
spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,
“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”
emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.
“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”
“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.
“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.
spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”
you were not just someone.
“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”
“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.
“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”
you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.
“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.
“no, this is fine.”
this? them? you thought this man was articulate.
you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.
“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.
it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.
“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.
“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.
you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.
“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”
there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.
the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.
she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.
“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.
“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.
he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.
“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”
you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”
logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.
“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”
spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.
all you have to do is talk.
spencer is great at talking.
“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”
it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.
“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.
“spencer-“
“dude just ask her out.”
spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,
“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.
logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.
you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.
you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.
you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.
“$2.50.” you grumble.
you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.
“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”
“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”
you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.
“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”
logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”
“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”
you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”
the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.
“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.
suddenly your apartment felt lonely.
so did spencer’s.
he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.
“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”
“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.
“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”
spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.
“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”
“you mentioned that, lover boy.”
pt.4
taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker
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pucksandpower · 5 months
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Hey, I just read the Grid Kids series and I’m in love. I’ve got kids of my own and I remember when they first started trying to talk how everyone was practically fighting over who their first work would be and was wondering if you could do a First Word one where they are all doing the same of Seb and Readers kid. Like maybe even little nicknames of theory full name like for Charles it’s Char or for Lando it’s Lan? I thought it might be cute. But everyone gets a surprise when none of them are the kids first word and it’s someone else instead. Love your writing xx
Grid Kids: Speak Now
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: no one could have predicted what your daughter’s first word would be
Series Masterlist
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“No, no, no! That’s not how you say it!” You lightly tickle your daughter’s belly until she’s giggling uncontrollably. “Mama! Say Mama!”
Your daughter, a chubby little cherub with her father’s hair and your eyes, squeals with delight, her tiny hands reaching out to grab yours.
She’s been babbling for months now but has yet to say her first real word.
“Come on, bärchen,” Sebastian coos, scooping her up into his arms. “Say Papa for Papa.”
Your daughter claps her hands and gurgles happily, her eyes sparkling. She is determined to keep you both guessing, it seems.
Meanwhile, your grid kids are gathered around, watching the exchange with amusement. They’ve all been trying to coax your daughter into saying their names too but she has stubbornly resisted their charms.
“Maybe she’ll say my name first,” Charles jokes, his usual mischievous grin plastered on his face.
“Not a chance,” Max retorts, his Dutch accent thick with amusement. “She loves me the most.”
“Oh, please,” Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “She clearly thinks I’m the coolest brother.”
“Ha,” George laughs, “in your dreams.”
“Exactly! Because we all know that’s me,” Mick chimes in.
Lance arches an eyebrow. “How does it feel knowing you’re all wrong?”
The boys continue to bicker playfully, each one convinced that they are your daughter’s favorite.
The baby in question, meanwhile, seems oblivious to the commotion, her attention focused solely on the shiny red Ferrari parked behind you.
“Box, box!” She exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.
Charles, standing closest to the car, freezes. His eyes widen in horror and his face drains of color. Before anyone can react, he collapses to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious.
The boys gasp in shock, their voices echoing through the garage. You rush to Charles’ side, checking for a pulse. He’s alive but he’s definitely not responding.
Sebastian scoops up your daughter, her wide eyes fixed on the stricken Ferrari driver. “It’s okay, honey,” he soothes, gently stroking her hair. “Charles is just a little tired.”
He carries your daughter away, leaving you to deal with the commotion. You shake your head in disbelief.
“Ferrari trauma, I guess,” you mutter to yourself, a rueful smile playing on your lips.
As you help the rest of the grid kids revive Charles, you can’t help but feel a surge of love for your chaotic family.
They may be crazy but you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
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bunnysbrainrot · 20 days
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Too Sweet
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A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.
Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?
A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn
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The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.
A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.
It was nice to be a part of something again.
Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?
A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.
“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.
Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.
When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.
You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.
“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”
Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.
She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.
————
You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.
The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.
Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.
A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.
“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.
There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”
“That sure is an early start.”
“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.
It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”
His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.
He might be someone to watch.
You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”
With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.
“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”
Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.
His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”
Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.
The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.
“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y’all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”
Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.
Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.
Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.
Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”
————
The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.
That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.
For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.
Joel.
You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”
For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.
“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”
The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.
His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.
Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.
It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.
Right?
That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.
The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.
You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.
In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.
“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.
“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.
A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.
With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.
“What?!” You shouted.
“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”
You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.
In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.
Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.
Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.
“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“
Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.
“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”
It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.
He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”
A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.
“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”
Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”
You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.
“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”
A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.
“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”
With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.
Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.
For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.
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Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰
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eupheme · 8 days
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— into the fire
[series masterlist]
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 1.6k
Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting
a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)
“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”
His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”
(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)
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Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.
Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.
No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.
“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”
The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.
Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.
All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.
Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.
If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.
“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”
“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.
You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.
Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.
The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.
He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.
But he hadn’t.
You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.
But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.
Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.
Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.
“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”
He’s collecting on your offer, now.
Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like. 
The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.
“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”
There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.
It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.
He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.
You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.
There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.
“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”
His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”
Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.
You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.
The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.
“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”
His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.
“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”
His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.
“Just yours.”
“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.
The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.
Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.
It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.
The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.
“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”
You whine, and the smile widens.
“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.
It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.
It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.
A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.
Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.
Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.
“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”
It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.
A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.
“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”
Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.
“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.
The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.
“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.
His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.
Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.
“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”
For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.
“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.
The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.
His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.
This time, you swallow.
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Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.
But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -
You’re pretty certain the path has changed.
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ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖
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gojipink · 26 days
Text
privilege
ஐ ft. diluc
ஐ summary. giving diluc a blowjob so good, he revokes your bj card :(
ஐ warnings. N*SFW, mdni, fem!reader, deep throating, fem. pet names. 1.4k words
ஐ notes. part of my bj mini series! check out more parts here ✧˖°.
“waitwaitwaitwait,” diluc catching your arm, stopping your trail of kisses down his stomach as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. 
he swallows thickly, mind reeling from your ministrations, a little embarrassed at how he’s found himself to be on the receiving end of your love. undressed to only his boxer briefs, laying flat on his back as you slide down his body, worshiping every inch of skin in your path downwards.
“what’s wrong, ‘luc?” you ask as you plant an innocent kiss at the start of his v-line. 
to be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing. diluc has been so busy, so stressed out recently that you wanted to take a night to focus on him. to let him receive even half as much love and pleasure that you receive from him on an almost nightly basis. you knew exactly what you were doing when you straddled him on the bed, giving his lips a searing kiss as you slowly pushed him back to lay his head down on the plush pillows. making him so distracted by your onslaught of hot, wet kisses down his jaw and neck that he wouldn't notice what you were trying to accomplish. 
“my love,” he calls out breathlessly, “what are you doing all the way down there? come lay down, i should be the one taking care of you, don't you think, darling?” 
you breath out a laugh as you nip at his hip bone making him draw in a sharp breath as his hardening dick flinches in its confines. 
“i want to be down here, diluc. actually i'm not even exactly where i wanna be yet,” you tease.
“love-” he tries to argue before you interrupt him,
“please, ‘luc,” you pout up at him, “lemme take care of you this time. wanna make you feel good, i’ve missed the way you feel in my mouth,” you plead. 
diluc has only let you suck him off a small handful of times throughout your entire relationship. it's not that he doesn't like it, quite the opposite actually. it’s just when it comes to sex, he gets off on getting you off. your pleasure is genuinely his pleasure, he’s almost sure he could cum at the sight of you coming undone alone. but when you look up at him almost pleadingly with your lips so so close to his straining cock, he lets his resolve melt a little and lets you take whatever you want from him. 
he sighs, his big hand coming up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks. “if…if that’s what you really want then… but go slow, love. don't hurt yourself, okay?” 
you inwardly melt at his concern as you flash him a smile, “thank you, ‘luc. i’ll be careful, i promise.” 
he huffs out a sigh while his hands brush your hair out of your face, “yeah, that’s what you said last time before you choked on it.”
you giggle at his words before playfully nipping at his skin right above the waistband of his underwear. “and who came almost immediately feeling my throat tighten on his cock?” you tease. 
“darli-mmph-” he tries to argue before you cut him off with a warm wet lick along the heavy shaft of his cock through the fabric of his underwear. 
his breathing instantly becomes heavier as you press teasing opened mouth kisses to his twitching length while your fingers hook over the waistband to slowly drag the last article of clothing off his hips. 
diluc raises himself on an elbow to watch you through hazy vision as he uses his other hand to help you pull the fabric off. 
as you discard them onto the floor by the bed, diluc’s wraps a hand around his throbbing cock squeezing at the base a little, giving himself a couple of short pumps. 
“my love, you don't have to do this,” he tries to convince you one last time as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs, “come lay down, hm? let me make you feel good, bet she’s just aching for it, isn't she, angel?”
you pout at him knowing that he’s trying to rile you up on purpose, hoping that if he gets you needy enough you’ll let him take over. you would be lying to yourself if you said his plan wasn’t effective, not with the way his filthy words strike straight to your cunt making your little hole clench around nothing.
“it’ll be my turn later, wanna taste you first,” you insist, your hands dragging up his thighs, nails lightly raking over the cords of thick muscle. 
diluc’s jaw tightens when your smaller hands replace his on his swollen cock. using both of hands to twist around the entirety of his length, making him draw in a sharp inhale. 
his piercing gaze follows your every movement as you open your mouth slightly, letting a pool of saliva fall past your lips and drop onto his flushed tip. diluc’s lip part in a silent moan as he watches the filthy sight, mind filling with fog as your hands drag across his length smearing your saliva over him. 
his resolve to switch positions finally dying down as he gently tangles his fingers in your hair, subconsciously pushing down the slightest bit trying to encourage your soft lips to meet his drooling cock. 
your lips finally meet his aching tip as you press a sweet kiss to his oozing slit before you take his length into the warmth of your mouth. 
diluc hisses at the feeling of your tongue repeatedly circling around his tip then massaging at the pulsing thick vein on the underside of his cock. 
“mmmh, love, s-slow, go slow,” he pants while his fingers tighten themselves in your hair, trying to grasp for control over the situation he’s found himself in. “doing so good, darling, mmph-! d-dont go any deeper, just-ngh keep it...keep it there.” 
you hum while bobbing your head up and down, the vibrations going right to his tightening balls as he tilts his head up to the ceiling a guttural groan ripping through the room. all senses filled with him, you desperately want to disobey his orders and just want to feel him further. want to feel his tip poke at the back of your throat as you swallow around him, want to know what he sounds like when his hips involuntarily stutter, thrusting his dick down further. 
knowing he’s slowly losing himself in bliss, you test the waters by slowly inching your mouth lower and lower until you feel his coarse red hair tickling your nose. you close your eyes and take a breath before surging forward practically devouring him whole.
the constricting feeling of your throat wrapping around his sensitive tip forces his hips to jerk in surprise, his mind short circuiting at the addicting sensation.
“ah-! l-love, oooh f-fuck! wait-!” he chokes out, his hands fisting tightly in your hair desperately trying to keep your head still, torn between wanting to push you down just a little bit further or pull you off him to scold you for deliberately ignoring his warnings to be careful. 
thick, milky ropes of his cum hit the back of your tongue as he pulls his leaking tip away to keep you from bullying his twitchy cock further into your throat. 
you swallow every spurt of cum, not letting a single drop leak through the corners of your lips. soothingly licking his shaft, softly bringing him down from his high, his chest harshly rising and falling, his eyebrows knitted together as he gazes at you with glossed over eyes. 
you lick one last stripe up his length, making his dick twitch in overstimulation, before sitting on your knees in between his legs, hands massaging his flexed thighs. 
he huffs out a breath as he gives you a pointed look, “alright, your privileges have been permanently revoked.” 
your mouth falls open in shock, “what! you liked it, though!” 
he shakes his head as he reaches to grab your elbows to drag you off of your knees. he rolls the both of you over, you now laying underneath him, face caged in by his strong arms. 
he tenderly lays a soft kiss on your lips, cock stirring when he vaguely tastes himself on you. he pulls back just slightly to chastise you, “i distinctly remember telling you to be care-” 
“and i distinctly remember you, once again, cumming as soon as your cock hit my thro-mmph!” you try to interrupt him only for him to cut you off by capturing your lips in a heavy, greedy kiss.
“what am i going to do with you,” he sighs into your mouth as you giggle and wrap your legs around his waist. 
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