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winterzsurprise · 11 months

Text

Playing with fire || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: After risking your life to save one spider, Miguel had enough and decided it was time to discipline you.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, face slapping (M&F), brat! reader, spanking, very brief blowjob, gagging, Miguel has a big dick, overstimulation (?), multiple orgasm denial, rough sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, pain kink, some aftercare at the end.

Words: 2.8k

idk how Tumblr works as well but user @/octobersoot said something about reader being a brat to Miguel and I had to revamp this one idea lol. I hope this counts as reader being a brat.

Spanish speakers, do correct me with the last one in the translation, thank you in advance :DD

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || coño - fuck (literally means cunt but google said it can also be used as like 'fuck!' or 'shit!' in English)

"NO DON'T!"

When you ripped yourself from Miguel's hands and jumped down into the black hole to catch the Spider-Man that fell into it, you had two thoughts.

If you die, Miguel would pull you from hell to kill you.

If you lived, Miguel would make sure you'd regret it.

As the void approaches, you latched onto one falling debris and leaped out to get closer to the guy whose wrist’s flicked to release some webs for you to catch on but you ignored it. You’ve seen how using webs to catch someone goes and it didn’t end well, you’re not about to make the same mistakes.

Reaching out to grab the falling Peter's hand, you webbed to the nearest stable item you could before feeling Miguel’s webs wrap around your waist. The momentary fear and adrenaline from saving the spider drained out of your skin almost immediately. Hearing the angry man barking orders above you, you prayed early for your soul.

You're not religious but you'd certainly need a diety's kind soul to take pity on you today once you’re left behind doors with Miguel alone.

"AY COÑO, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU GET YOUR HEAD HIT SOMEWHERE??"

You grunted, tugging President Spidey with you. "Just pull us up!"

"I should let go of you for being so stupid!"

"Then fucking do it coward!"

Despite his comments, it took one tug from Miguel to pull you and President Spider-Man to a safe spot on a building they were resting at to watch the consequences of altering canon events. The anger radiating out of his body would be enough to trigger your senses, his glare searing a hole through your skull.

Looking up sheepishly, Miguel’s face was contorted into subdued rage. The absolute fury lashing in his dark red eyes made your heart drop to the soles of your feet.

You're absolutely fucked and you don't know if you regret it or not.

On one hand, he's going to murder you and split your body into pieces to feed the kraken version of Doc Ock. But on the other, he's unfathomably hot when he's glaring through your flesh and soul.

How could he be so alluring while plotting your murder? You have no idea.

"We're going to have a talk." His darkened voice made your spine tingle, you nod and turned to run towards Hobi but the firm hand on your shoulder halts you. "Don't move, I'll break your knees if you do."

President Spider-Man shrunk beside you, more intimidated by the threat directed towards you than you do.

"Is that a threat, boss?"

"No cariño, it's a promise."

Leaping down to greet the quarantine squad, he left the two of you on the rooftops. President Spidey turned to you, worried to the nines for your soul.

"D-do you need to universe hop? You're free to hide at mine, since it's my fault you're gonna get grinded later."

You laughed, slapping him in the back to which he wheezed at. "Don't worry, he won't bite."

•=•=•=•=•=•

Despite your shit attempt of comforting President Spider-Man, he didn't leave your side, ready to jump in front of you if Miguel happens to snap in the middle of the journey back to HQ. Hobie however, attempted to pry him off of your side with an amused smile.

“Have you realized how fucked you are?”

President Spidey hushed him, to which the man raised an eyebrow at. “Don’t say that.”

When you all entered the office, Miguel halted and you all followed. There’s a buzz in the back of your head and a glance at the nervous wreck beside you tells you that he felt it too.

"Everyone except my wife, leave."

President Spidey almost spoke up, probably to request to stay next to you until Hobie swung his arms around his neck and pulled him out, but not before saluting to you.

"I'll burn the ministry in your honor."

His voice echoed in the dimly lit room until the hatch closed shut, isolating you and your husband from the outside world until further notice. You watch as a yellow holographic lady materializes over his shoulder, Layla whose gaze immediately met yours.

"Layla, make sure no one tries to enter my office until I say so. Go hang out with Spiderbyte in the meantime."

"Don't break the poor girl, she didn't do—"

"I don't want to hear it. Leave."

Sparing you a pitiful smile, she dispersed into the air. With no hatch to escape to, nor any obstacles to run behind, you were left standing a few footsteps away from the man.

"I thought we had an agreement to keep ourselves safe during missions?"

There was a simmering anger hidden behind his words, tone almost dark and bitten back.

"I was safe, you just need to place a little faith on—"

"The last time I did that, the people I cared about died."

You wanted to defend yourself, bring up being safer since you're Spider-Man and all that but you knew it wouldn't end well. Seeing the seething anger radiating off of him, that's the best course of action.

Hanging your head down with a sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, cariño. I think I have to drill it into you."

Your brain clicks, realizing what he said and you frown. "Fucking is not gonna help us right now, Miguel!"

"Well I don't see you complaining every time it happens, do I? If I recall, you've begged, cried and screamed my name again and—"

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you slapped the man. You gasped, bringing both hands up to your mouth as you watched him go silent.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No no no, I see how it is."

You waited for his next move with bated breath, goosebumps prickling your skin. You debated on taking a few steps back but before you could, he surged with his hands grabbing your neck and slamming you on the wall, stealing the breath from your lungs and you gasped.

“You know the words, mi vida?”

You curled your eyebrows at him. Does he mean your safeword?

“F-fucking get your hands off of me, let's talk."

The light slap on your cheeks shocked you, mouth falling ajar at the action. You couldn’t deny the fact that the sting left by his hand has stirred your desires awake, nor can you even dare to mention how breathless—figuratively and literally—he left you.

Miguel observed your eyes, cautious of any hurt flashing in them before putting more pressure on the side of your throat and you greedily inhaled more air as much as you could. Dark spots crawl from the side of your vision and fear starts to claw at your heart.

Yet the uncomfortable slickness and ache between your thighs says otherwise.

"Your words."

"I'm not using them!"

The grin curling his lips sent shivers down your spine, doom looming over you.

"Good."

Before you could say anything, he released your throat and you fell to the floor, inhaling greedily for air as your vision slowly repairs itself.

"I've been wanting to tame that mouth of yours since earlier."

You coughed, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "R-really? I thought you liked that about me?"

"Oh really? I thought I said I only liked your mouth, not your voice."

Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to look up before pushing two of his fingers through your lips, pressing down on your tongue as his suit disintegrated to reveal his formal clothes. Miguel's hand threads through your hair, caressing the back of your head before tugging. With a wicked grin, he continued.

"Strip."

It was a command, not a request. The low timbre of his voice sends jolts of pleasure down your spine. Following his heeds like a hypnotized woman, you made quick work of your clothes, tossing them to the side and unshackling your web shooters.

Reaching up, you unbuttoned his pants and took care of his fly before shrugging the clothing down his thighs. The tent in his boxers sent shivers down your spine, a promise of pleasure behind its confines.

Pulling it down, his girth revealed itself to you and your tongue grew heavy inside your mouth, a few dribbles of pre-cum on the tip and the prominent veins giving it an illusion of being larger than it already is. Miguel pulled you closer making you kiss the base of his dick.

"What a sinful face you have, cariño. I'm starting to like this more."

He guided his length to your mouth, smearing his clear arousal on the plush of your lips making you open up only for his hand to come down harshly against your cheeks once more.

The sharp sting immediately melts into hot arousal pooling down your thighs.

"Do you really think you deserve me, mi cielo? After speaking back to me earlier?"

"I want it, please?"

He scoffed. "'Want' it? Do you think you own me? That's funny."

His webs embraced you and he pulled, making you stumble to the floor with a yelp. Being bound tightly by Miguel who towered over you with sadistic glee and glowering eyes, made you feel small all over.

Yet the sick bastard at the back of your head smiled an ugly grin.

"How about we try it again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll give you what you wanted."

He pulled you back to a standing position, his hand immediately locking onto your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his dilated and darkened red pairs that seemed to tempt you to drown yourself in them.

Your eyes fell to the hand pumping himself leisurely and groaned.

"Please? Darling, I want to taste you."

"Do you deserve it?"

"I'm more of an action type of person than a talker."

He said nothing, watching as you fall back to your knees before tapping the head of his cock onto your lips. Once your mouth opened, his hand on your jaw crawled to the back of your head and pushed.

The sudden and wide intrusion down your throat got you gagging yet Miguel only found pleasure from the throb of your muscles constricting around him.

You remind yourself to breathe through your nose, trying to force yourself through it but your throat complains and you knew you couldn't take it. Slapping his thighs thrice, he pulled away immediately, clicking his tongue while you coughed and gasped for air.

"Bold talk. I knew your mouth wasn't fit for speaking at all. Such a shame it can't do anything at all."

Still focused on the throb in your throat, you weren't able to react fast enough when he pulled you flush to his chest by the web and carried you to the platform where a cushioned chair awaits.

He sat and you ended up on his lap with both his calloused hands grounding you by the shoulder and hips. Miguel's burning eyes roamed the expanse of your chest, one hand rising to trace his gaze with his fingertips and pinching the stiffened peaks of your mounds making you moan from the slightest touch.

"Maybe your pussy could do a better job."

The hand soon crept around your neck with his eyes where it pressed against its sides once more.

It was maddening how you could feel his hardness pressing against your folds yet unable to do much about it. The firm hand on your hips prevents you from grinding down on him. He does reach down to your clit, palming your engorged bead but before you could revel in it, he pulled away.

"Did those slaps get you this wet baby? Didn't know you're such a slut."

Your cheeks lights up and you slapped his cheek lightly for the name he called you, only for Miguel to return it harder.

"You don't get to slap me, slut. The only thing you're for is this pussy."

A wet slap resonated in the room and you cried, thighs closing from the impact on your heat, embarrassment burning your body before shame crawled up your throat as you realized his demeaning behavior seems to only goad you further.

He didn't give you a chance to prepare when he pushed his cockhead into you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the burn of the stretch stung your veins and stirred your desire further. Every inch inserted tore you apart, the sensation a mixture of heaven and hell, it was delicious as it was painful.

Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel reached down to roll your clit in slow circles, whispering affirmations into your ears. The moment he sensed your accommodation to his girth did he pull out till his head remained, angling his hips before inserting himself back again to hit the spongy spot on your walls.

You whimpered and moaned in his shoulder as his pace grew with a manic fervor. The pain slowly transitioned into pleasure with the frequency of his thrusts, your nails dug into his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, narrowly missing your uterus as he pistoned into you.

Mind whirled in ecstasy and lightness brought by his fingers on your throat, you only grabbed onto him for dear life as he quickly dragged you to the edge.

Feeling the familiar pulse and tightness of your walls around him, Miguel suddenly pulled away and you cried.

"Why did you pull away?"

His hand came down with a loud crack! as it collides with the globes of your ass in quick successions. Your hips twists as you clenched desperately on air. Desire clawed at your throat and you whimpered, body already missing the rush of pleasure he brought with every push.

“Do you think you deserve it, mi vida?”

You nodded and he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think you do.”

Despite his words, Miguel entered you once more, picking up his previous pace. Your previous orgasms arose, walls clamping down onto him, desperate for the release you craved so deeply. There's a wet sound echoing in the room along and you flushed deeper yet far too desperate for euphoria to care.

His deft fingers found your clit with experienced accuracy and slapped it with every thrust of his hips.

You shouldn't be enjoying every bit of pain yet here you were, moaning and wriggling your hips for more stimulation like a mad woman.

"My cariño's such a slut taking all of this pain like the whore she is. Bet you liked that spider guy huh? Jumping off like a fool to save a dick, so pathetic."

Miguel pulled away and you cried, the itch of dissatisfaction searing through your body. You clawed at his back as if the pain could threaten him, in response, Miguel swats your rear once more.

"A little slut like you doesn't deserve to cum. After that stupid stunt earlier? Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Yes yes yes."

He slapped you across the face but you could care less, whining.

"Stop being a dick and give it to me, please!"

Clicking his tongue. "Such a desperate slut, I'd slap you for that, but I'm feeling a bit generous."

It was his fingers that attacked you this time, deftly rubbing your clit. Your hips stuttered up to follow his hand.

“Might as well count how many, right?”

Your mind grows lighter as time bleeds against each other. His objections to your orgasms grew frequent as the intervals between your nirvana grew shorter, you have lost count of how many he has denied you and has long stopped doing so, body now laid motionlessly on top of his as you sobbed onto his shoulder from frustration.

Miguel didn't care, in fact, he reveled in your misery every time.

His hips pistoned faster, tip almost always nudging your spot with every thrust as his lips caught yours in a weakened dance, there was a shift in the air and you knew he had finally relented on dragging it out.

"Come for me, darling. I want it all, give it to me."

The pleasure that bursted in your veins wasn't like the others from before. The ecstasy woke every nerve ending in your body alight, limbs growing weightless from the shock of pleasure from your orgasm as electric shocks reverberated from your core and to the tip of your fingers.

Your thighs convulsed violently and you screamed, arousal squirting to drench his stomach. Miguel's arms curled around you protectively as you shivered, whispering hushed affirmations in your ears while the impact of a long-denied orgasm shattered you.

"You did so well for me, mi vida. I’m here, no more of that."

Miguel soaked in your every moans and sobs as he murmured something you couldn't catch, mind far too foggy to process.

You didn't even realize that he didn't came, focused solely on comforting you through your high.

His racing heartbeat matched the pace of the throb in your head, you could hear your breathing echo in your ears yet in the state of exhaustion, you found it calming, melodic even. Miguel’s fingers that gave and tore your pleasure away now caressed the back of your head, gently as if you’ll break apart.

You could make out his chapped lips pressing kisses onto your temple as exhaustion won over your body, eyes falling shut with the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #marvel fics #marvel smut #spiderman smut #spider man smut #spider man fics

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jreads · 11 months

Note

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness.

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago.

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol. One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now.

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone.

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above.

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?”

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks.

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation.

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.”

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant.

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling.

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something…

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou angst #my fic #jreadswrites

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ahonice · 9 months

Text

not my boyfriend

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 9.6k (the google doc was forty pages long idk what happened i got carried away)

warnings: jokes about dying/being killed, drinking, mentions of harassment (none actually happens though, just a topic discussed.) cursing, party games, lots of fighting that could’ve been avoided, VERY unrealistic scenarios and timelines lol, reader is stubborn for no reason and pisses me off (sorry)

note: this takes place during luke’s first full season as a devil. also idk how season tickets work with the devils so... hope y’all enjoy, leave feedback and lmk what you think, love y’all babes <3!!!

+++

growing up in newark meant you were a devils fan by default. which wasn’t a bad thing, your father was a season ticket holder and often took you to games with him as you were the only one of your siblings who was still living at home.

you were the youngest of five, all others being boys, and the university you attended was only a five minute drive from your house so instead of moving into the dorms you continued to live at home.

at each game you always wore unmarked jerseys, shirts, and hoodies. no number or last names on any of them, you weren’t a big enough fan to have a jersey that branded you so you stayed content with your blank ones.

+++

it was the home opener for the devils and your father dragged you, along with all your brothers, out to attend the game with him. he managed to get tickets right behind the devils bench this year, you didn’t even want to know how much money he had to spend to get them.

“dad isn’t this a bit much? the game is going to be the exact same if we were sitting in our normal seats, two levels above.” you asked him once everyone was situated and comfortable in their seats.

“oh shut up y/n, these seats are great and who knows maybe you’ll catch the eye of a cute hockey player and you can live out your trophy wife fantasies.” your brother, who was sitting two seats down from you, teased.

“shut up david.” you said reaching over your other brothers to hit him, which you did…three times.

“would you two cut it out, you’re attracting a crowd.” your father scolded.

he was right, not only were a few people sitting behind you watching, but so were a couple people on the bench in front of you.

you groaned in embarrassment and hid your face in your brother gavin’s shoulder.

“kill me gav, kill me.” your voice was muffled.

“number forty three is staring pretty hard right now y/n.” gavin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

you shot your head up and made, brief, eye contact with a boy who looked around your age before he quickly looked away. another player, who looked just a little older than you, laughed at him before giving you a wink.

“i’m serious gavin, shoot me right here.” you said, pointing between your eyes. “like i’m a horse that just broke it’s leg.”

+++

after the game you went to dinner with your family before you parted ways. you had picked up your coworkers shift because he had a family emergency and wasn’t able to come in. during the summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college you attended bartending school. you thought that working in the night life industry, especially as a young attractive woman, that you would be getting a lot of money in tips.

and you were correct.

your grandparents were covering your tuition, and since you were living at home there were no room and board charges, but you did have a car to pay for, books and school supplies, as well as an addiction to shopping that you had to support. so the job really was great.

it was a nice cocktail, lounge, styled bar. lots of business meetings took place, and overall upper class patrons were the ones who would visit. it wasn’t rare that local celebrities would stop by, or new yorkers wanting a lower tax on their tequila sunrise. so when a few people on the new jersey devils roster walked in, nobody was surprised.

“y/n i’ll take bottle service for them tonight if you cover my side of the bar while i’m out? we can split their tip 70/30.” your coworker brian suggested after seeing them all make their way towards the private section, meaning they would not be ordering drinks themselves like all the other people in the establishment.

“60/40, it’s a saturday night brian.” he rolled his eyes before agreeing, making his way over to the group as you began writing down tickets.

with brian gone you were now the only one behind the bar, it being a busy saturday night you didn’t really have any time to yourself. constantly getting new orders, or people confused why you needed their card to open a tab, you weren’t really planning on taking a break anytime soon.

“what can i get you?” you asked whoever sat in the seat across from where you were currently fulfilling orders. you didn’t look up to properly acknowledge the customer, but you know they heard you because your question was quickly followed by a long “uhhhhh” before you placed the drinks you had been working on infront of their respective owners.

“while you uhhhh on that, i’m gonna go help customers that know what they want.” you didn’t really mean to be so rude, but you didn’t have time to provide good customer service.

“wait!” you had barely turned around before the customer stopped you. “i’m sorry, it’s just that i am not twenty one, so i don’t know what i can order here.”

“you’re not old enough to drink? how the hell did you get in? because if you used a fake i’m sorry but i’m gonna have to cut it.” you finally looked up from the glasses in front of you to see who exactly you were speaking with. he looked familiar, you couldn’t figure out where you knew him from. probably just a student you’ve seen around campus.

“no it’s nothing like that. i’m here with some of my teammates.” he nodded his head towards the private section where you could see brian making them drinks.

you looked back at his face again before the realization hit you.

“you were the player staring at me earlier.”

“you were the girl that slapped her brother in front of everyone earlier.”

you blushed at his recollection of you, he blushed at yours as well.

“guilty.” you both said at the same time, causing some laughs to let out before the moment was interrupted by some people on the other side of the bar yelling that they wanted their drinks.

“i’ll be back in a little bit, sorry.” you apologized to the boy before turning to start making the drinks that the customers had ordered nearly five minutes ago, audibly groaning at the line that was forming all around the bar and the amount of people now entering.

+++

it ended up being nearly thirty minutes before the rush of orders you had gotten was cleared and you had time to go back to where that boy was sitting. you weren’t surprised that he was no longer there, but you were disappointed.

you decided to take the rare break to your advantage and poured yourself a glass of apple juice, savoring the taste before you brought your attention towards the group in the back. brian must’ve really been working for those tips because you had never seen a group so entertained in your life.

making eye contact with the boy, you smiled as he stood up from his seat, excusing himself from the group being met with a smirk from the guy he was sitting next to, who you recognized as the one who winked at you earlier.

“you know you guys are paying for bottle service, you don’t have to come up to the bar to order drinks. it’s kinda what it was made for.” you said once the boy had sat down in the seat he was in just an hour before.

“i know, but i don’t want the guys to make fun of me for ordering orange juice.”

“are you assuming that i wouldn’t make fun of you? because i would, and i will. i’m team apple juice.” you said, raising your glass filled with apple juice, into the air.

“can’t drink on the job?”

you laughed at how stupid of a question that was, just because you worked as a bartender doesn’t mean you have no decorum. “ couldn’t even if i wanted to, i’m nineteen.”

“oh so you’re my age, well a year younger.” he smiled to himself. “i’m twenty.”

you nodded at his words, too busy closing out a tab to respond.

“how can you work here though? if you’re nineteen. don’t you have to be twenty one?” he asked.

“no, you need to be eighteen to serve alcohol in the states.” you responded, not even looking up.

“got it.” he trailed off, it quickly became awkward as you were too busy to give him the attention he was obviously looking for. “i’m luke by the way, don’t think i told you my name yet.”

“i’m y/n, but i’m pretty busy right now so maybe you could go back to your table. i don’t mean to be rude, but i can’t spend my whole shift talking to you and not working.” you told him, noticing the long line that was beginning to form again.

“oh yea of course, sorry. umm i’ll see you around.” luke said, getting up.

you didn’t respond and just walked over to the other side of the bar where the people who had been waiting the longest were.

luke sighed before walking back over to his group.

“what’s the matter lukey? couldn’t impress the hot girl by ordering an orange juice.”

“shut up jack.”

+++

it was only five days later that your father was bringing you along to another devils game and once again you got dressed in your unnamed jersey and a pair of leggings. you had work right after, having taken the closing shift tonight so you would be able to enjoy the game for at least an hour and a half before you would have to go.

“dad please tell me we aren’t in those seats again. you don’t need to be wasting your money like that, our usual seats are just fine.” you spoke as you followed your dad through the arena.

“sweetie, it is my money to spend and i wanted this. i never miss a home game, all of the money spent is being spent for good use.” you father responded, making his way down towards the glass.

you had arrived after warm ups were finished so now you were just waiting for the game to actually start. playing a game on your phone, you were easily pulled into a trance and didn’t even realize that the players had made their way onto the ice until your father nudged you.

“y/n would you pay attention? the boy is looking at you again.” your head shot up at his words and you quickly made eye contact with the boy from last week, luke.

he waved at you before turning around before you even had the chance to wave back.

“that was weird.” you said, not to anyone in particular, but you weren’t aware of your volume because that same guy that winked at you began laughing and pushed luke who was visibly blushing.

+++

“can i get an orange juice? on the rocks.”

you turned around to see number forty three smiling at you, his hand behind his neck in an awkward stance.

“luke.”

“y/n.”

“is your group here today? we didn’t get any mentions of bottle service being needed tonight.”

“yeah, it was a last minute thing. i asked if we could come to this bar instead of the one we had planned on going to.”

“why? because the orange juice is that good?”

“without a doubt.”

you laughed at his words before looking over at your coworker.

“do you wanna do bottle service tonight? or should i?”

“i’ll do it. the general manager is here tonight and you know how she gets when it’s a group of men getting bottle service.”

“got it, thank you brian.”

you looked back to see luke staring at you confused.

“why doesn’t she like men getting bottle service?”

“it’s not that, there have just been a few too many cases of us having to kick people out because of their behavior towards female bartenders.”

“has that ever happened to you?” his voice suddenly angry, causing you to look at him funny.

“cool it casanova.” you laughed, ignoring his question because you have. that’s just what comes with a job in the night life industry though. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you around luke.”

dejected, luke made his way to where his teammates were sitting.

“did you fuck up again?”

“yes…? i honestly don’t know.”

+++

it had been two weeks since that night.

you hadn’t been able to make it to any of the devils games due to coming down with a bug, also causing you to miss school and work. it definitely wasn’t ideal considering it was nearly thanksgiving break, which meant it was nearly finals week. but you couldn’t complain, it was always nice to do nothing but binge watch investigation discovery and drink yellow gatorade all day.

“dad can i come with you to the game tonight? my fever is gone and i haven’t been sick in three days. i need to get out of the house badly.” you asked your father once he made it home from work.

“sure sweetie. i’m planning on leaving in half an hour, i want to make it to warm ups tonight.” he replied, shuffling through the mail.

“got it dad, i’ll go get ready.”

+++

you quickly got ready for the game. deciding that you wouldn’t wear any makeup tonight, your eyelash extensions were enough to carry the rest of the face. tying your hair into a braid, you got dressed in an unmarked devils hoodie and leggings before throwing your shoes on.

“dad i’m ready if you wanna leave a little earlier.” you called out from upstairs, spraying your perfume on.

“sounds good hun, i’ll meet you in the car.”

you were really excited for tonight's game, mainly because this was your first outing in civilization in nearly fourteen days, but a little part of you was excited to see luke again.

a little part of you was afraid he had forgotten who you were, as you had only interacted a handful of times.

a loud honk ripped you from your thoughts as you could hear your father yelling from outside.

“i’m about to leave without you y/n.”

+++

you sat in your seat playing on your phone as you anxiously waited for the game to start

“what’s got you so jittery?” your father asks, noticing your legs bouncing. “does it have anything to do with number forty three?”

your eyes widened at the second question that came from your father’s mouth.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you spoke defensively.

“well i thought i might ask because he has been staring at you since he got onto the ice.”

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you missed warmups beginning, and looking up you met luke’s eyes.

you gave him a smile and a small wave, which he returned before number eighty six rammed into his shoulders and luke went back to what he was supposed to be doing.

+++

after the game you decided to tackle the large load of school work that had been piling up from your sick days.

you managed to spend a good three hours uninterrupted before your phone began ringing. you picked it up to see your general manager's contact shown on the screen. groaning you answered the call, hoping she wasn’t going to call you in because there is nothing worse than a friday night shift.

“hey y/n, i’m sorry to bother you but this boy is currently asking about you at the bar and i need to know if you know him or if i need to ban him from the property.” she spoke.

your eyes widened, a little scared because this wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve had creepy men asking about you on your nights off.

“what is his name?” you ask, you doubted it but there was a chance you did know him.

“luke hughes.” you heard him yell in the background.

“yes darlene, i know him. he is harmless, please let him leave the jail cell.” you joked, knowing for a fact she had him held captive in the office.

“he wants your number.” she whispered.

“just give it to him, and seriously let him go. him and his teammates tip a lot.”

+++

from: *** *** ****

y/n?

from: *** *** ****

this is luke.

from: *** *** ****

i’m a little nervous that your boss gave me a fake number just so i would leave her alone, so if you could respond that would be greatly appreciated.

to: *** *** ****

i’m sorry, but you’ve reached the rejection hotline. the person who gave you this number is not interested.

from: *** *** ****

lovely.

to: *** *** ****

i’m totally kidding.

to: *** *** ****

this is y/n lmao.

from: luke hughes

that is not funny.

+++

over the course of the weekend you and luke texted a lot.

mainly just basic information. favorite food, tv shows, some random questions.

from: luke hughes

why do you wear blank jerseys?

from: luke hughes

and blank everything else? you never have a name or number on you at games.

to: luke hughes

that’s just not something i’m into.

to: luke hughes

there isn’t a hockey player i like enough to wear their name or number.

that wasn’t entirely true.

while you were a devils fan by default, you were a hurricanes fan and sebastian aho enthusiast by choice.

you had multiple jerseys and shirts with his name and number all over them, but the devils only played the hurricanes on home ice a limited time each season so you weren’t able to break out your collection all that often.

luckily for you, the hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center in five weeks and that was one of the only things you were truly looking forward to these days, as sad as that sounds.

+++

“the boy who keeps asking for you is here.” brian said to you as he entered the office.

“what do you mean keeps? darlene just told me about the one time.” you responded, turning your attention off of the roblox game you were playing and towards your coworker.

“because i’ve only ever gotten darlene involved once. he kept asking for your schedule that night and i nearly called the cops.do you know how scared i was? not for you of course, just of the amount of paperwork and witness reports i’d have to deal with. did i ever tell you about the time that one psycho came in here with a butter knife and threatened–”

“brian focus.”

“right sorry. he has come in asking for you at least ten times now. if you want me to kick him out i will, i’ve been working out.” brian finished his rant by flexing his muscles, that weren’t even there.

“you’re 5’7 brian. no amount of muscle will make up for that.” you started, picking your phone up. “i’ve got it don’t worry, but thanks.”

to: luke hughes

are you stalking me?

to: luke hughes

because i will get a restraining order against you.

to: luke hughes

i don’t care how attractive you are.

from: luke hughes

so you think i’m attractive?

to: luke hughes

is that seriously all you got from that??

to: luke hughes

STOP BOTHERING MY COWORKERS !!!

from: luke hughes

will do.

from: luke hughes

as long as you agree to go out with me this week.

to: luke hughes

fine.

to: luke hughes

but only because i would like to go one night without my coworkers asking if they need to place your image on the blacklisted board.

from: luke hughes

yeah totally “only because”…

+++

“so you expect me to believe that after the game tonight you are going out with luke hughes. the rookie player for the new jersey devils?” your father asks.

“yes dad.” you deadpanned.

you had told him of your plans for after the game tonight forty minutes ago and he does not believe you in the slightest.

“what did you take for your migraine earlier?” he asks, chuckling. “oh no, did you get into my medicine cabinet? i’m pretty sure i bought those painkillers back in ‘eighty-nine.”

“you’re hilarious. now can we leave please? warm ups are already almost over.” you said, unamused, while your father was bent over laughing at his stupid joke. “i’m going without you.”

“like hell you are.” he said, snapping up right and marching over to the front door. “if you are telling me the truth i have to meet this boy and talk to him…to ask him if you’re blackmailing him into this.”

he added that last part once he was already outside, you groaned as you heard him laughing from inside the car.

+++

to: luke hughes

i will be waiting in the car park after the game whenever you get out.

to: luke hughes

also my dad wants to meet you.

to: luke hughes

he says it’s because he needs to make sure i’m safe, but really he just thinks i’m lying to him about your existence in my life.

+++

“sweetie when is he coming? it is late and i’ve got work in the morning.” your father asks, for what feels like the hundredth time.

“dad, i’ve already told you that you can leave. i don’t need you here.” you replied, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“what if he kidnaps you? or kills you? he’s got money, he could cover it up in an instant.” he snaps his fingers when he said instant to emphasize his point.

“i would never do that sir.” a different voice cut in.

both you and your fathers heads whip around and you’re met with the sight of luke, looking very good in his suit.

“holy shit y/n you weren’t lying to me.” your dad says, walking up to where luke was standing to shake his hand. “let me tell you kid, i thought my daughter had lost her mind.”

“dad. please stop.” you stated, annoyed at his behavior, finding a spot to stand next to luke.

“right. sorry sweetie.” he said before turning his attention back towards luke. “have her home no later than midnight.”

“yes sir.” luke stated, before your dad turned around and walked towards his car.

“so where are we going?” you ask. “you’re dressed like we’re going to a five star restaurant and i’m dressed like we’re going to a drive thru.” you explained, pointing to the major differences in your attire.

“i’ll meet you halfway.”

+++

“is it too late to tell you that i prefer qdoba?” you told luke as he pulled into the parking lot of a chipotle.

“i think i should take you home.” luke joked, before running around the car to open your door for you, slightly tripping in the process.

“i should warn you though, i get queso and guac on my burritos.” you told him, knowing that he would be paying.

“what? that’s like an extra seven dollars.” he complains, holding the front door open for you to walk in.

“should’ve taken me to qdoba, it’s free there.”

+++

the night went very well.

you and luke talked about anything and everything.

it was fifteen minutes to midnight when luke pulled up in front of your house to say goodbye.

noticing that the lights were on, luke asked if your father really stayed up to see if he had brought you home on time.

“i can guarantee he is currently in his recliner and snoring.” you told luke before you both started walking up the porch steps.

“well i had lots of fun tonight. you should really send me a text whenever you’re bored at work, i can always use my celebrity status to get in while being underage.” luke said once you had made it to the front door.

“your C-list celebrity status?” you started.

“-oh come on, i’m a b-list at least.” he cut in.

“don’t you have better things to do than sit at a bar and drink orange juice?” you finished your thought.

“honestly no. i don’t have any friends in jersey that aren’t my teammates.”

“well if you ever want to go to a party or hang out with me and my friends you always can, just text me if you’re ever bored at home.”

you said your proper goodbyes and once you stepped into your house you saw your father asleep in his recliner.

to: luke hughes

*image*

i told you he would be asleep. he would never know if we actually stayed out past curfew.

from: luke hughes

did you catch him mid snore in that photo? that’s honestly a violation.

+++

from: luke hughes

i’m bored.

to: luke hughes

what am i supposed to do about that?

from: luke hughes

😑😑😑

to: luke hughes

I’M KIDDING

to: luke hughes

do you not have a game tonight? because i’m planning on attending a frat party tonight if you would like to tag along.

to: luke hughes

unless you are now above frat parties after finishing school.

from: luke hughes

i’d love to join you.

to: luke hughes

great! i was planning on getting there at 10:30. do you just want to drive to my house? my friends are taking me btw and we could always just double buckle.

from: luke hughes

yea sure. what should i wear?

to: luke hughes

oh nothing too fancy just a tuxedo.

to: luke hughes

bowtie included.

from: luke hughes

i hate you.

+++

“will you all please promise to be nice to him and be on your best behavior? i think i actually like this one and i don’t him to be scared away.” you warned your friends who were currently in your room pregaming.

“hey don’t look at me, i’ll be nice as hell to your new boy toy.” your best friend, trinity, spoke. you rolled your eyes at her before looking at the boys who crowded on your floor.

“cal, bass, and tyler.” you spoke firmly, attempting to intimidate them. “i swear to god if any of you make him uncomfortable, all of my images and videos from syllabus week are getting posted on the main.”

“sir yes sir!” the three shouted in unison, only causing your eyes to roll back further into your head.

“just please be welcoming. talk to him, get to know him, do not force him to play rage cage if he does not want to.” you emphasized that last point at kade.

“if he doesn’t willingly play rage cage he isn’t the one for you y/n.”

you were about to make a snarky comment but were cut off by your phone going off.

from: luke hughes

hey i’m outside. should i knock or wait out here?

to: luke hughes

just come inside, front door is unlocked.

to: luke hughes

we’re upstairs in my room, just follow the sound of shitty music. my friend bass has aux tonight.

you could feel the nerves bubbling up in your stomach. you hadn’t informed the group that your luke was luke hughes, they were all devils fans and were in the know about things so they definitely know who he is.

“he is coming upstairs right now, y’all i’m serious, best behavior.”

the sound of a knock made all five heads turn towards the door.

“no fucking way-”

“shut it!” you cut cal off. “hey luke, come in. there are shooters on my desk if you want something to pregame with. trinity is sober tonight so you don’t have to worry about driving.”

luke makes his way over to your dresser and grabs three shooters before making his way towards the spot next to you.

“everybody this is luke, luke this is everybody.” you motioned your hands back and forth. “tyler, cal, trinity, and bass.”

you pointed to your friends, who were looking at the two of you with shock and disbelief on their faces, as you named them.

“let’s go to the party, i wanna play rage cage.”

+++

“is bass your real name or is it just a nickname?”

after arriving at the party you and your group established where trinity would be all night everyone started asking luke questions, the majority of them were about hockey and the nhl before you texted the groupchat and told them to shut their fucking mouths about his career.

“nickname. my name is sebastian, but this one-” bass grabs onto your shoulders and pulls you in front of him. “-says there is only one sebastian in her life and i am, unfortunately, not him so she started calling me bass and everybody else just latched onto it.”

you glared at him before speaking. “i was being sarcastic when i told you that, and you came up with the fucking nickname.”

“yeah, it’s not y/n’s fault you share a name with the love of her life and future husband.” tyler said, giggling after you hit his stomach.

“okay let’s go play rage cage, y’all need to shut up.” you said making your way outside, trinity informed everyone that she would stay in her spot and to text her if it is urgent. “luke do you play rage cage?”

it was an important question.

sure most people favor cup pong or even flip up as a party game, but rage cage was what you and your friends dominated at every function.

“i have never played it before. haven’t even heard of it.” luke shrugged.

everyone’s movements paused for a second before hell froze over.

“WHAT?”

“you’ve never heard of it?”

“what fucking school did you go to?”

“y/n get him out of my face.”

you weren’t even sure who said what, but luke had a slightly scared look on his face.

“they’re joking luke, let me teach you how to play.”

+++

“so your future husband's name is sebastian? should i even continue pursuing you?” luke asked, jokingly, once you two were left alone in the backyard, tyler had drank one too many bitch cups and needed to be nursed back to health.

“i am most definitely not marrying him. he is six years older than me, lives hundreds of miles away, and also knows nothing of my existence.” you informed luke before finishing your drink. “you should definitely continue to pursue me.”

+++

from: luke hughes

are you coming to the game tonight?

from: luke hughes

i have a proposition for you, if you are.

to: luke hughes

i’m listening

from: luke hughes

you wear my jersey tonight, and in return i win the game.

from: luke hughes

it’s a win-win situation

to: luke hughes

yea for you. i get nothing out of it.

to: luke hughes

also i do not own a jersey with anyone’s name on it, let alone yours.

to: luke hughes

and you are NOT buying me one. if i want a jersey i will pay for it myself…or my father will.

from: luke hughes

fine.

from: luke hughes

but when you become my girlfriend you have to wear my jersey, no matter what.

to: luke hughes

okay, if i become your girlfriend i will wear your jersey.

from: luke hughes

not if, when.

to: luke hughes

i’ll see you tonight weirdo.

+++

“your boyfriend is waving at you.”

“david shut up he isn’t my boyfriend.” you responded to your brother, shoving him.

you waved back at luke before his smile dropped and he pointed towards the jersey david was wearing. how you didn’t see the name and number on the back before? you didn’t know.

“are you seriously wearing luke’s jersey right now?” you placed your head in your hands knowing the conversation that would come of this. “he asks me to wear it before every home game and i never do, and now my own brother is wearing his jersey and not me.”

“why won’t you wear his jersey?” your brother asks, finishing off his beer. “-and don’t give me that bullshit answer of you never wear anyone’s jersey. you wear aho’s.”

“that’s because sebastian aho is sebastian aho.” you deadpanned. “there has never been a player, besides aho, that i have liked enough to wear their number. i’m not a fan of anyone…besides aho.”

“yeah, but luke’s your boyfriend.”

“oh my god he isn’t my boyfriend, do you ever listen to me? idiot.”

+++

“so your brother wears my jersey, but you don’t?”

the sound of luke’s voice drew your attention away from the tab you were closing out at work. “i knew you were gonna show up tonight. remind me again why i decided to give you my schedule?”

“because i’m awesome.” luke answered, taking a seat in front of you. “-but of course not awesome enough for you to wear my jersey.”

“are we still on that?” you asked, handing luke a pop.

“yes we are.” he stated blankly. “seriously i don’t understand why you won’t just wear my jersey. you said you didn’t want to pay for one, and that i couldn’t pay for one. but now that i know your brother has one i would very much appreciate it if you would wear it, to at least one game.”

“i’ll think about it.”

+++

your answer was no. that was three weeks ago and you still had yet to wear a jersey with the number forty three on the back.

tonight you were excited.

the carolina hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center tonight and you and your friends all got seats behind the canes bench. none of them were canes fans, but this one the one game a year that you had the opportunity to sit near sebastian aho and you would be damned if you missed out on that opportunity.

from: luke hughes

you coming tonight?

to: luke hughes

yeah.

to: luke hughes

so are trinity, bass, tyler, and cal.

from: luke hughes

oh great, i haven’t seen them in a bit.

from: luke hughes

are you guys going out after the game? it’s a friday night.

to: luke hughes

yes we are. cal’s frat is hosting this sport night thing if you wanna come with.

to: luke hughes

just bring a jersey to change into after the game.

from: luke hughes

oh crap i don’t own any jerseys.

to: luke hughes

you’re hilarious bud.

to: luke hughes

but just so you know i’m not sitting in my usual spot tonight. my brothers are sitting with my dad tonight.

+++

“no fucking way.”

that was the first thing you heard as you got in bass’ car.

“what?” you asked, everyone looked at you in disbelief.

“you are wearing aho’s jersey.” tyler replied, speaking for everyone in the car. “and you’re dating luke hughes.”

“i am not dating luke, you guys know that.” you deadpanned, you were getting sick and tired of people mistaking you for luke’s girlfriend. almost as much as you were sick and tired of not being luke’s girlfriend. “-and you also know that i am a loyal sebastian aho supporter before anything else.” you added the end in a lighter tone of voice.

“alright, but when luke gets upset with you tonight you cannot be angry when we tell you we told you so.”

the rest of the car ride only one thing, a question, was on your mind, would he really get upset with you?

+++

“oh my god!”

“how many times are you gonna say oh my god tonight y/n?” trinity asked.

she had a point. it was like the only thing that was coming out of your mouth.

“never.” you deadpanned. “sebastian aho is right in front of me. my future husband is right in front of me.” you got more giddy by the end of your statement.

“oh wow y/n, you’re blushing.” cal poked your side. “that’s pathetic.”

“lover boy, two o’clock. does not look happy.”

you looked over to your right and saw luke looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, but bass was right, he did not look happy.

+++

“GOAL!” you screamed, shooting up from your seat. “SUCK IT DEVILS!”

“alright calm down y/n.” tyler said, laughing at you.

“NO! sebastian aho just scored his second goal of the night, if he gets one more i’m gonna lose it.” you replied, sitting back down.

“oh god you haven’t lost it yet?”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey! sorry about the game, you played great :)

to: luke hughes

if you do want to come to the party we’ll be at this is the address.

to: luke hughes

12345 house street

to: luke hughes

i hope to see you there.

“so is your boyfriend coming tonight?” cal asked.

“not my boyfriend.” you started. “and i don’t know. i just texted him the address for him to meet us there if he wants.”

“ok. real talk,” trinity started. “do you want him to be your boyfriend?”

“i do-”

you were cut off by the screaming of your four friends.

“shut it.” you snapped, effectively shutting them up. “i do want him to be my boyfriend, but i have no idea if he wants me to be his girlfriend. i mean we’ve known each other for three months and he has talked about us dating in the past but he hasn’t asked me out yet and i don’t know if he ever will.”

“y/n don’t be like that. i can tell by the way he looks at you and acts around you that he likes you, a lot, and also he looked jealous as hell when he saw whose jersey you were wearing tonight.” bass said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“okay enough with the pity party, lets go to the party. i need a drink.”

+++

from: luke hughes

not really in the mood for a party tonight.

to: luke hughes

oh ok.

to: luke hughes

well i’ll see you soon, yeah?

“luke isn’t coming tonight.” you told the group, an upset look rested on your face.

“oh…well it’s probably nothing. i wouldn’t want to go out and celebrate a loss.” trinity said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“ok i seriously need a drink now.”

+++

it has been over a week since the game and luke hasn’t spoken to you once.

all texts have been left unanswered, he hasn’t come to visit you at work, and when you were at the game two days ago he didn’t look at you once.

you were working the closing shift tonight, and it was a monday so it was not very busy. in the past you would text luke and he would arrive as soon as he could, but you stopped attempting to communicate with luke two days ago, after the game. he made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

“y/n, someone is at the bar asking for you.” you looked up from the wall you were staring at in the office to see brian. “not the usual one though. did you and your boyfriend break up?”

you had a little bit of hope that it was luke for just a moment, before brian told you it wasn’t him. “he’s not my boyfriend. never was.”

you stepped out of the back room to see the other hughes brother sitting at your bar.

“hello jack. what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask, planting yourself across from him.

“we need to talk about you and luke.” he replied curtly.

“there is no me and luke, he has made it very clear that he is no longer interested in being my friend anymore.” you said, pouring a drink for no one, you just needed something to do.

“that’s the thing. he does want to be your friend, more than that. this past week he has not shut up about you and how you guys weren’t talking anymore. what happened?” jack asked, grabbing the now finished drink and bringing it to his lips.

“i don’t even know. we were planning on going to this party at my friends frat together and then after your guys’ game against the hurricanes he flaked out and hasn’t spoken to me since. i’ve reached out and haven’t gotten anything back, i was at the game on saturday and he didn’t even look at me, so if he is upset that we aren’t talking then he is just upset with himself.” you took a moment to catch your breath before looking at jack.

“whose jersey did you wear to our game against the hurricanes?”

“sebastian aho’s. why?”

jack let out a chuckle and shook his head. “makes sense. he was muttering stupid sebastian aho and fucking homewrecker the whole way home and bunkered himself in his room for days.”

“i always refused to wear his jersey to games, or his anything, and now i’m realizing i probably pissed him off by wearing someone else’s name and number when i’ve been telling him the whole time i’ve known him that the reason i won’t wear his stuff is because i don’t wear anyones.” you told jack, pouring another drink.

“i wouldn’t say he is pissed off. he is definitely upset though.” jack starts, standing up. “i think you should come to our game this thursday-”

“i always go to your games.” you cut him off. “well come to our game this thursday wearing his jersey. i think that is all he wants…well that and you being his girlfriend.” jack finished, not giving you a chance to respond before walking out the front doors.

+++

“david please, just let me borrow your jersey for one night.” you begged your brother over the phone.

“no can do little sis. just go buy your own, i mean it might be beneficial to own your own luke hughes jersey when luke hughes is your boyfriend.”

“david i’m not even gonna say it, but seriously? where am i gonna find a jersey on such short notice?” “at literally any store in newark. walk down mainstreet and you’ll probably find five in the front window of shops.” david answers, the sarcastic tone in his voice pissing you off further.

“goodbye. i’m gonna go walk around looking for a jersey in the freezing cold now.”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey. i know we haven’t talked in a little bit but i spoke with your brother the other day.

to: luke hughes

i’m going to the game tonight, if you would be willing to let me see you after i would really appreciate it.

to: luke hughes

i would like to talk to you.

+++

you weren’t able to find a jersey with luke’s number on it so you wore a blank jersey tonight, which kind of crushed your original plan for the evening, but you still had to try.

“are you sure sweetie? because i have no issue waiting until he shows up.”

“yes dad, i’m sure. i’ll be fine, please go.” you assured your dad, pushing him towards his car.

it wasn’t until forty minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching you. you turned your head around and frowned at the sight of jack hughes walking your way.

“sorry i’m not the brother you wanted to see, but luke left as soon as he could and ubered back to our apartment.”

you nodded in defeat. “thank you for telling me. i’ll just order myself an uber home then…tell luke i said good game and if he ever wants to talk he can message me.”

“why don’t you tell him yourself.”

+++

trinity would literally die if you told her whose car you were currently sitting shotgun in.

“luke made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me, or even see me. i don’t think this is a good idea jack.”

jack had convinced you that the best thing to do in this situation was to confront luke directly. not as much convinced you, but rather offered you a ride home and said he had to make a stop on the way, that stop being his and luke’s place.

“y/n luke is miserable not talking to you, and that is making me miserable.”

“well he wouldn’t be so miserable if he would just text me back, he is the one choosing to not speak to me. can we just get this over with? drive faster.”

+++

“luke’s room is down that hall, second door to the right.” jack informed you, you thanked him quietly before making your way to luke’s room.

you knocked gently and got no response so you knocked again, a little harder.

“jack i’m not in the mood right now. go away.”

you tried to speak up but nothing came out, so you just knocked again.

“jack i’m serious. this whole y/n situation is messing with my head, i played awful tonight and i just want to go to sleep.”

“well if it’s messing with you so much and making you as upset as jack says it is then maybe you should just text me back and we can figure out how to fix this.” you spoke, frustration clear in your tone.

you didn’t give him the chance to respond before you made your way out of their apartment and towards the stairwell, ordering an uber as you ran down the steps.

once outside you saw that your uber was about five minutes away so you were forced to just stand there and wait. from: luke hughes

i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please come back up.

to: luke hughes

no.

from: luke hughes

please. let's talk about this.

to: luke hughes

i’ve given you many chances in the past week for us to talk and you’ve ignored me each time.

to: luke hughes

it’s my turn to be upset now.

+++

that was two weeks ago and you haven’t seen or spoken to luke since.

you went to your mothers house is oregon for christmas and came back to new jersey today.

the second you ended your gift exchange with your father you went up to your room and opened your texts with luke.

from: luke hughes

y/n i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please talk to me.

from: luke hughes

merry christmas, i got you a gift. i asked your coworker brian where you’ve been, he said it that you were spending christmas at your moms this year so i’ll give it to you when you get back.

from: luke hughes

please text me when you get back.

from: luke hughes

i need to see you.

you spent a few moments contemplating whether to send a text or to continue ignoring him, even if the later was driving you crazy.

before you could stop yourself you sent a message, and got one back immediately.

to: luke hughes

i’m back in newark.

from: luke hughes

on my way

you slightly panicked when you realized that after nearly a month of silence between the two of you, luke was now going to be in front of you and in your presence again. you didn’t know what you were going to say, worry filled you thinking about the many outcomes that could happen.

“sweetie, luke is at the door for you.”

you timidly stood up and took a deep breath or two before making your way downstairs.

“hey luke, let’s go up to my room to talk.”

luke nodded before stepping inside, giving your father a proper greeting before heading up the stairs.

“ok, so can you start off by telling me why you ghosted me for a full week?” you asked him once he had sat down on your hammock chair, you across from him on your bed.

“you wore someone else’s jersey.” luke started, letting out a deep breath afterwards. “after you told me for months that you never wear anyone’s jersey, so you wouldn’t wear mine.”

the sound of your friends yelling “i told you so” played in your head, but you pushed it aside to focus on what was happening in front of you.

luke was now in your closet, where he would find your many, many, aho items.

“luke please get out of my closet.” you were angry, he had no reason to be searching your things.

“how many things do you own of him. jesus.” luke said once he finally walked back into your bedroom.

“luke i’m sorry that i lied to you about never wearing anyone else’s jersey, but is that seriously why you ignored me?” you were a little skeptical of his reasoning.

“why did you ignore me for multiple weeks?” luke ignored your question.

“because you were the one leaving me on read and skipping out on our plans, but then you went around telling people you were miserable not talking to me as if i was the one who failed to reach out and that made me angry. i gave you so many opportunities luke…and you didn’t take up any of them. so i got mad and i knew i was about to leave town for two weeks and i didn’t really wanna communicate with you during my vacation.”

“why did you lie to me?” luke asked, now taking a seat next to you on your bed.

“i honestly don’t know. i’ve only ever worn aho’s number, just feels weird wearing someone else’s. and i was being honest, other than aho, there has never been a player i like enough to wear their jersey until now.” you sat up from your spot and walked over to one of the gift boxes sitting on your floor, during your gift exchange with your dad you received a devils jersey with the number forty-three and hughes on the back as well as some shirts and hoodies with the same thing. “these were all gifted to me for christmas. i asked for them. i wanted to wear your jersey, i have for a while now, but i was just unsure of what it would mean. can you tell me why you got so angry?” you asked the question that had been on your mind for weeks.

“y/n i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, i never asked you though because you wouldn’t even wear my fucking jersey no matter how much i begged you to so why would you say yes to being my girlfriend.”

“god luke again with the fucking jersey, i don’t get the big deal it’s just a piece of fabric.” you yelled, getting frustrated.

“it means something! ok y/n, it means something.” he starts. “there is a difference between wearing a jersey as a fan and wearing a jersey as a girlfriend, something personal and intimate, and you won’t even wear my jersey as a fucking fan.”

it felt like you were talking in circles and it was driving you crazy.

“that is what i’m saying luke. i didn’t ever wear your jersey because i didn’t know what it would mean. i didn’t know if we were friends or something more, and wearing your jersey could’ve given us both the wrong ideas.”

“what idea would it have given you?” luke asked, taking a step towards you.

“that i’m something more to you than a friend, and i didn’t want to think that because it isn’t true” you admitted the truth, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea, but rather yourself. “-and i don’t like to get my hopes up.”

luke didn’t respond, he just sat there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to three minutes.

“luke if you want to leave, just go. i’m sorry i ruined our friendship, i wish you the best in the rest of your career and life-”

your words were cut off by lips touching yours, luke’s lips.

after a few moments you broke the kiss, not liking how fast it was progressing.

“luke what was that-”

“i like you, y/n. as more than a friend, that is why i wanted you to wear my jersey so badly. i wanted to feel special, because you have this rule about never wearing anybody’s jersey, but you wore mine and you wore mine because i mean something to you whether that be a friend or something more, i just wanted to feel like i meant something to you.” luke practically yelled, interrupting you.

“i feel like we are both making the same points, but just phrasing them differently each time.” you spoke, trying to choose your next words carefully. “what do we do now? how do we move past this?”

“well, you could agree to go on a date with me and wear my jersey to the next home game. that would be a start.” luke offered, grabbing both of your hands. “-you could also let me kiss you again, i’d really like that.”

“deal.”

+++

“sweetie are you almost ready? we’re gonna miss warmups.”

“coming dad.”

you quickly made your way downstairs, checking your appearance in the multiple mirrors you passed by on the way towards the car.

“wearing your boyfriend's jersey i see?” your father quipped once you got into the driver’s seat, he demanded you drive because you had just gotten a new car.

“not my boyfriend.” was all you said in response.

“still? that boy needs to grow a pair.”

from: luke hughes

are we still on for after the game?

to: luke hughes

yup! meet me in the car park when you’re done?

from: luke hughes

👍

+++

after the game you parted ways with your father, him taking an uber home and leaving you with your car to drive you and luke around tonight. which isn’t traditional, especially for a first date, but you loved betty, your new car, and you wanted to drive her.

“wow the new car is dope y/n.”

you turned around and saw jack and luke walking towards you, the older hughes speaking.

“-and nice jersey, next time wear an eighty six for me, yeah?”

“never gonna happen jack.” luke started, before turning his attention to you. “you ready to go?”

“yes i am, you can put your bag in the trunk.” i opened up the trunk with my keys before getting in the driver's seat. “where are we going?”

“i’ll give you directions as you drive.” luke said, plugging his phone into the aux.

+++

a few minutes later you pulled into a qdoba.

“wow you know me so well hughes.”

“i just didn’t feel like paying extra for your queso and guac.” luke deadpanned.

“yeah right, i know i’m turning you into a qdoba enjoyer.” you teased as you entered the restaurant.

after getting our food luke gave me an address of where to drive for our late night picnic. it was a lookout place that luke had found when he first moved here, you had been here multiple times as well and knew of a good place to sit.

“follow me” you hopped over the barbed wire fence and waited until luke made it over to start walking again.

“are you sure this is allowed?” luke whispered.

“i know for a fact that it is not, but it’s fine no one is here right now it’s after dark.” you said back at full volume, earning a loud shhhh from luke in the process.

you walked a little bit more before you made it to your favorite ledge, you could see all of newark from here and a little bit of new york, but when you looked up there was a perfect view of the stars.

“how did you find this place?” luke asked, digging into his food.

“i was hiding from the cops one night and me and tyler ended up here.” luke’s eyes widened at your story. “i’ll tell you more about that later, but ever since i’ve been coming here.”

we continued to eat and talk about random things until it was time to go.

“we should probably go, it’s nearly midnight.”

+++

once you finished the drive back to luke’s apartment you got out of the car to say your goodbyes.

“well i had a lot of fun tonight, we should do it-” luke cut you off by kissing you. “you have to stop doing that.” you teased.

“sorry, it’s just that you look really good in my jersey, like really good. i was struggling not to jump over the glass when i saw you during warmups.” luke admitted, going in for another kiss. “look y/n, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my girlfriend?” a blush crept up luke’s neck as he spoke.

“i would love that.” you replied, a blush spread across your cheeks.

we said our goodbyes and you drove home, not expecting your father to be awake on the couch.

“oh you’re awake?” you asked, taking your shoes off.

“yeah just wanted to make sure you were safe.” your dad replied. “how is your boyfriend?”

“he is great.” you replied smiling, not correcting him for once because now he really was your boyfriend.

+++

note: BOOOO HAPPINESS no but this literally took me a month to finish because i had absolutely no energy and no inspo to write anything. idk if i like this yet…but ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #ahonice writes #ahonice

731 notes · View notes

pagesfromthevoid · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 9

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Kidnapping. Angst. Lol

Author’s Note: ✨Woops✨

Series Mastlist | Talk to Me!

The Taken

“Where did you get this?” The Armorer asked, holding the circlet in her hands carefully.

“The princess I saved –it belongs to her.”

Din had left her and the child on Sorgan, simply explaining that he had to take care of something back on Nevarro. She questioned him, asking if she could come, but he promised he would be quick. It was a little over three days worth of travel between Sorgan and Nevarro, so she was skeptical of him. Din had reassured her that it was nothing bad; that what he was doing was for her. But what he needed to do was important.

Which is what brought him before the Armorer of his people, with her circlet. She had insisted she didn’t want it anymore after he revealed what it was made of. He wasn’t sure where she got beskar steel, but she wasn’t opposed to him taking it. It’s rightfully yours, she had said. Do whatever you see fit with it.

“How curious,” the Armorer murmured, examining the piece. “I made this many years ago.”

Din’s brow furrowed and he stepped forward. “What do you mean, you made it?”

The Armorer looked to him, holding the faded gold piece out to look at. “Our covert was attacked, long before we settled on Nevarro,” she explained, moving next to lay the piece in the flames. “I had been overcome, and the enemy was prepared to kill. But a young man –no older than your princess, I am sure –saved me. I owed him a debt. Yet…All he asked of me was to make him something that would grow with his child.”

“And so you made the circlet.”

“And grow with her it did.” She nodded once, watching as the metal melted down slowly. “You do know what it means to present a weapon to someone, correct?”

“I do.”

The Armorer watched him before taking the molten steel from the flame and moving it to the forge. “Then I will make it into what you ask. Your signet will be imprinted into the blade.” Din nodded once, watching as she poured it into the shape of a dagger. “Your clan of two will become three.”

“Thank you.”

*****

“Well?”

“Well what?” Calisto snapped, tapping her nails against the control panel of her ship, glaring at the screen.

Silas Credence stood in the doorway, hands behind his back. Calisto wanted him out of her hair, but she couldn’t risk another death so close to her. The Senate was already whispering about her husband’s sudden passing; assuming things. Silas was simply lucky that Calisto wasn’t willing to risk her freedom yet.

“Have you located my bride or not?”

Calisto breathed heavily through her nose, nostrils flaring. Perhaps handing her only daughter off to the man was in bad taste, but it was the only thing he wanted in return for handing over Senex’s seat in the Senate. Besides, the little chit should have been patient and just waited him out. He was a frail thing, probably about to keel over at any point.

But no. The princess just had to make things difficult and run. And then, as if that wasn’t inconvenient enough, she had to find herself with a Mandalorian of all people.

Calisto didn’t particularly want to deal with a Mandalorian, though she also didn’t think he’d take so long in delivering her daughter. She was under the impression that Mandalorians followed through on their deals; honor and all that. But a little over a month had passed, and Calisto was starting to grow impatient.

Her droids had been entirely useless. And when she made contact with that fool Karga on Nevarro, he didn’t have any follow up information about the bounty. Just that a Mandalorian took it up and left several weeks ago.

She decided that if this was going to be done soon, and done right, she would have to damn well do it herself.

“I have her located, yes.”

Some backwater planet in the Outer Rim planets, Sorgan, was where her daughter had ended up. Calisto loathed the idea of trucking through woods and farmlands —she avoided it when her husband did it —but if that’s where her child was, that was where Calisto would go.

“We will be landing on Sorgan in an hour,” Calisto explained, moving away from the panel to stand in front of the window of the ship. “Let me locate her and talk sense into her. If she sees you, she will run again.”

“You should have taught her what her purpose was long before me,” Silas hissed, standing beside her now. “Even if she was not intended for me, no one worth their snuff wants a wife that bites.”

“You brought that upon yourself,” Calisto sneered. “I told you to leave her be until your wedding night. It is bad enough you do not leave her ladies alone.”

“It is my right —,”

“Shut up, Credence.”

The old man snapped his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes at her. But he did not argue.

*****

She sat on her knees at the edge of the water, shaking out a basket of krill. Omera was chatting with her idly, explaining the history of the village. There was always something new to be learned, and she appreciated that Omera was willing to teach her. However, she was a bit distracted. Din had returned from his side quest early on that morning, having greeted her with a soft hello and his forehead pressed against hers. When she had asked what he was doing, he simply turned her around and tied the fabric around her eyes and kissed her.

“You and Mando seem very happy here,” Omera commented, smiling at her. “Happy together. And the child seems to adore you.”

She looked at her hands for a moment, admiring the dirt under her nails and the wrinkles that had developed from the water. Her cheeks felt hot as she thought of Din, and the way they spent their time together. Back to the kiss they shared that morning. The way his mouth felt on hers –which was only heightened by the fact she couldn’t see him when he kissed her. The other night, when he had her slip into her gown again, she felt powerful with him on his knees in front of her. And the thought of that alone made her chest tighten.

“I…he’s kind to me,” she admitted, glancing at him for a moment before she looked back at her hands. “I think he might ask –,”

“Oh please, don’t say those words. It’ll only break your heart more.”

Omera whipped around, but she stared in horror at the water in front of her. Her blood ran cold as she slowly looked over her shoulder. Calisto stepped forward —Grogu in her arms. Omera moved to stand, to introduce herself, but she shot her arm out to stop the widow. She stood instead, slowly rising from the ground, eyes on Grogu who looked confused as he reached out for her.

“Mother,” she greeted, tone stern and dare she say, intimidating. “Give me the child.”

Din had turned from the villagers, hand on his blaster. But she motioned for him to stop, sending him a sideways glance as he slowly stepped towards the two. Omera looked between the three of them, eyes wide.

“Why? Have you taken in a ward in the month that you have played runaway?”

“He has nothing to do with me running from you,” she seethed, taking a half step forward. “Let him go.”

Calisto pressed a finely manicured nail into Grogu’s belly, causing the baby to giggle. Calisto feigned a motherly smile —the same she would use to placate her daughter when she was young. She knew her mother well enough that she wouldn’t hurt a baby; not intentionally. She was a cruel woman, but not that cruel. But Din was seething, she could practically feel his anger radiating.

“No, no. You are right, he does not,” her mother hummed, looking at Grogu with utter disinterest. “I wonder where this maternal instinct of yours came from.”

“Certainly not you,” she sneered, narrowing her eyes. “Give him to the Mandalorian.”

Her mother hummed again, slowly turning her gaze to Din, who was standing close behind her now. “On one condition.”

She closed her eyes, biting her tongue. She knew the condition; of course she knew. And Din knew too –she felt him tense up behind her, hand frozen on her lower back. Calisto wanted her home —needed her to fulfill the bargain she made with Credence. There was never any escape for her, and there never would be. Din was right to stay paranoid.

“Fine. But give me the baby first.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Calisto hissed, rolling her eyes. “If you think I trust you, then you are sorely mistaken, child. Bring the Mandalorian; he will get the baby when you are secured in the ship.”

She glanced back at Din, who was standing still behind her, no doubt determining every way he could kill Calisto where she stood.

“Come now, child. Am I not being fair? I am a woman of my word —you know that.”

“Even when your word harms your own child?”

“I never said my words were good. Just that I honor them. And I gave Silas Credence my word that he would have a wife.” Calisto stepped forward, reaching out to grab her by the arm and yank her forward. Din tried to intervene, but she pushed him back. Her mother’s voice was low, drenched in venom as Calisto got into her face. “You have embarrassed me. You could have had anyone you wanted —you could have hired that bounty hunter as your guard and kept him around until Credence died. Maker above, you could have bedded him while Credence was alive for all I care. But you were stupid, and impulsive. And now you have lost both your freedom and your fool Mandalorian.”

She tried to pull herself free, but her mother always had a painfully iron grip. There was a reason she rarely caused trouble as a child —her mother was the one who punished her. A very quick lesson was learned the first time she disobeyed. It was one of those moments that showed her who her mother really was. But she did not show her fear; she would never give her mother that satisfaction.

“At least give him the credits he earned,” she argued, practically being dragged through the village. “At least do that.”

Calisto let out a nasty scoff, shaking her head. “Why, pray tell, would I give him anything?”

“He didn’t kill me when I offered to pay him to.”

“Yet he stole you away, breaking the Guild’s rules,” her mother reminded her, looking over her shoulder at Din, who was hot on their heels. The smile on her face screamed wicked. “I should have him executed for kidnapping the Princess of Senex.”

Quickly, she shook her head, digging her heels into the ground, trying to stop. “I gave him everything I had,” she lied, looking up at her mother. “I told him it was half; I promised him the other half when I found refuge. You cannot blame the man for trying to make more than the original bounty.”

Calisto eyed her closely, shoving her forward towards the Senex ship. For a moment, Calisto considered her options, looking between the baby and the hunter. Then she pushed her daughter up into the hull and set the baby on the ground. She knew her daughter was lying; knew well that Din had helped her escape. But Calisto didn’t care enough about the whole ordeal to keep arguing with the little chit in her hold.

“Take it,” she ordered Din, then pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her cloak. She threw it beside Grogu. “I will say this once, and only once. The moment you are found on Senex, I will raze this entire planet —and everyone on it.”

Din scooped Grogu up into his arms, trying to console the child who was now sobbing for his princess. As the door of the ship shut, she locked eyes with Din —but there was no fear to be seen. She stood tall as she shut into the ship. A handful of the villagers stood back as the ship’s engines ignited and took off, taking his princess with it. Grogu cried out, reaching out.

Omera stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Mando, I –,”

“Have the villagers load the Crest for me,” he ordered, turning away and storming his way towards his own ship. There was nowhere in the galaxy that Calisto of Senex could hide from him –he would find her, he would end her. And he would save the woman he loved.

“Let’s go save our princess, kid.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dancealongthelightofday @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin #the manadalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader

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marvelouslytrekking · 1 year

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Wandering Off

Pairing: Din/reader Summary: You get separated from Din and subsequently get injured. Din takes the responsibility of making sure you’re patched up Warnings: Swearing, typical violence, injury (not super descriptive) Word Count: 2673 A/N: I have been sitting on this one for awhile but here it finally is! I am so happy that we have Mando back (even if he seems to be the one needing cared for so far this season lol) As always, I suck at titles but here we are lol Also please let me know what you think by leaving a comment to make my day!

You weren’t sure how you had managed it, but you had gotten yourself separated from Din at a local market in a small town while doing a quick supply stop. You’d think a man clad in silver beskar from head to toe would be easy to locate but you had yet to be able to spot him again.

You had made a few loops of the market, hoping to run into him but you were having no luck. You were annoyed but sighed and decided to take the kid back to the ship. You and Din had an agreement that if somehow you got separated that you would make your way back to the Crest. It was better than trying to frantically find each other.

You decided to go through the forest since it would be shorter and you wouldn’t have to worry about other people on the road. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle yourself but you had chosen to leave without your blaster, which now felt like it wasn’t the best idea but you hoped that it still wouldn’t be needed.

You were making your way through the thick forest as quickly as you could, though you were starting to worry that you weren’t heading in the correct direction. You had decided to take a short break to see if you could manage to orient yourself.

It was once you had stopped that you suddenly got a very unsettled feeling. It felt like you were being watched. As soon as that thought had crossed your mind, you heard a twig snap. Your head whipped in the direction of the sound. You had hoped that maybe it had just been Din and he didn’t want to startle you, but your instincts were correct, you immediately saw the two men behind you, both with their blasters drawn.

You didn’t waste another second, you immediately broke out into a sprint. You hadn’t fully figured out exactly where you needed to go but you decided you were just going to have to deal with that afterwards. You ducked your head as you heard blaster shots hitting the trees above you. It did, however, make you aware that their orders must have been not to kill the kid, since the shots were clearly well above your head. That didn’t give you much relief as you were jumping over logs and trying not to trip on roots, though.

You had made sure you were holding the kid as close to your chest as you ran. You were consistently getting hit by small branches and you were trying to keep him from getting the small scratches that you knew were going to be covering your arms and legs.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder briefly, trying to determine where the hunters were behind you. That decision has been a mistake because you had missed the small downhill slope that had been in front of you. You let a out a yelp as suddenly you were going head over heels down the hill. You luckily were able to use your own momentum to flip yourself fully over and found yourself back upright and running but unfortunately, you felt a sharp pain in your ankle, it was clear you had managed to twist it when you tripped. There was no time to think about it and there was no point in dwelling on the pain because if you stopped you would only be damning yourself and the kid to much worse.

You realized you needed to come up with some sort of a plan, something other than just running in a zig zag and hoping that you were either faster than them or could out-last them.

Even if you were heading in the direction of the Crest, with how hot on your tail they were, you wouldn’t make it into the ship and get the ship locked back up before they caught up to you. If Din was waiting for you back at the ship, there was hope since you know he would be able to handle these men quickly with a few blaster shots but you had no way of knowing if he was there.

Your only other option was to try and lose them in the forest somehow and to wait them out but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen since so far you hadn’t been able to shake them.

It seemed like your only good option was the ship. Something told you to head slightly left so you decided you had nowhere better to go, so you started to shift your zig zags to lead you to the left.

Luckily it wasn’t much longer until you noticed the trees starting to thin and an opening was before you. You let out a sigh of relief as you saw the shiny hunk of junk sitting in the open field. Even happier yet when you noticed the ramp was down which meant he was in fact waiting for you.

“Mando!” You screamed out as loud as you could hoping he would be able to realize that something was wrong.

Another blaster shot came from behind you but this time it wasn’t as high up. You realized they were not happy knowing you had just warned the Mandalorian of their pursuit. You should have known that Din would immediately be out of the ship upon hearing you. You saw his entire body tense as you shot out of the edge of the trees and was running straight at him.

A few blaster shots came from behind you. You found yourself ducking but it didn’t matter, you suddenly yelled out when a sharp, burning pain shot out from your shoulder. You tucked the child even closer to you as you collapsed onto the ground.

You tried to turn over so you could see what was happening or to be able to get up and offer Din some help but you found yourself only causing more pain. You were left trying to determine what was happening from listening.

You heard a few more shots go off before you felt someone gently rolling you over.

“It’s over, they’re gone.” Din said softly, letting you know it was him as he gently tried to move you. You let out a few pained noises as your weight was shifted on the wound.

“Gone or dead?” You knew the answer already but you asked anyway, mainly to distract from the pain.

“Dead.” He said as he slowly pulled Grogu from your arms. You felt him reach for you and let out a few whines as Din set him on the ground so that he would be able to get a better look at your shoulder.

“Well, how bad is it?” You asked to break the silence.

“Should be fine, can you get up?” If you didn’t know him any better, you would have thought he was being cold, that he didn’t care that you had been shot, but you could hear the tension in his voice and felt the slight shake in his hands as he slowly helped you sit up and then eventually stand.

You winced as you put weight on your right ankle. Din had been paying close attention and quickly snaked his arm around you to shift the weight from your injured ankle. “I tripped at one point, must have sprained it worse than I thought.” You explained even though he didn’t ask.

He helped guide you to the ship, the kid not really struggling to keep up since you were moving quite slow. As soon as you were in, he commanded you to sit. There was no room for argument in his voice, but even if there had been you were currently too tired and in too much pain to be stubborn. You waited as he quickly made sure the ship was locked up and that you would be safe in case the two men weren’t alone.

When he was sure that the ship was properly locked down, he was back by your side with a med kit.

“I need you to take off your shirt.” He instructed. You began to try to pull it over your head, but quickly stopped when the pain was too unbearable.

“I can’t” You winced as a sharp pain shot across your shoulder when you tried to pull your shirt over your head.

“Here,” He reached out, taking the bottom of the shirt and starting to slowly pull it up.

“I’m sorry,” Din softly apologized as he noticed you tensing when he starting to move your arms. He huffed, realizing that pulling it over your head was only going to cause you more pain. Without warning he grabbed at the collar of your shirt and ripped it in half. You stared at him a little dumbfounded as he then carefully pulled each side down your arms and dropped the destroyed shirt behind you.

“You know, I liked that shirt.” You complained

“Well it was already ruined.”

You could tell that Din was inspecting all the other injuries that littered your arms. His thumb gently brushed along a particularly nasty gash that was on your upper arm. You’re not quite sure when exactly you got that one but you were sure that had to do with the amount of adrenaline that you had while trying to outlast the men.

“Looks like the trees also managed to do a good number on me.” You commented while your eyes trailed over yourself in the same way his did.

“We’ll have to get those cleaned next.” He told you before stepping behind you to get a better look at the blaster wound. He was being as careful as he could but that didn’t stop you from wincing at the sting as he worked. Any time he heard a noise of discomfort, you felt him tense and a soft apology would slip past his lips.

You found yourself focusing on his non-dominant hand that was spread across the top of your back and over your neck, keeping you steady as his other hand worked on cleaning and caring for your shoulder. You couldn’t help but notice the heat that radiated from his gloveless hand, the flinches and tension in his fingers, or the soft way he would brush them back and forth, in a comforting motion when your discomfort would be made known.

Once he was finished with your shoulder, there was a slight moment, where neither of you moved. His hand that had done the work to patch up the injury, was resting further down your arm and his other was sliding up and down your back soothingly, eventually making its way to running along the bandage, as if inspecting his work, or possibly convincing himself that you were okay.

Finally he broke the moment and pulled away, coming to the other side of you. Now his focus was on the smaller cuts. He still didn’t say much as he meticulously cleaned the largest cut on your arm.

“I think this is going to need a few stitches,” He finally broke the silence. You looked down and with the dried blood cleaned away, he was right.

“Okay, I trust you.” You gave him permission to proceed. He gave you a nod before prepping everything to give you the needed stitches.

You had watched him give himself stitches on multiple occasions, had even helped him a handful of times, and yet you had never seen him so hesitant to start. He looked back up at you one more time, you held his gaze, or what you assumed to be his gaze for a few seconds before giving him a nod, hoping to ease whatever discomfort he currently had about closing your wound.

Another beat passed before he turned his attention back to your arm. Like before, you found yourself focusing on his other hand, the arm that had a light but firm hold on your arm to keep you steady. You tried your best to keep any pain to yourself so as to not make Din’s discomfort any worse, but you couldn’t stop a few pained whines from slipping past your lips. Each time, Din paused, looked up at you and apologized, he would wait for you to indicate that he could continue before he would.

Once the stitches were finished, he gently added a bandage. “Now I just need to clean all these smaller cuts and then I would like to take a look at your ankle.”

“I can clean all these, you don’t have to.” You told him softly. You knew your legs were probably just as covered in cuts as well and figured you could clean both your arms and legs on your own.

“I’ve got them” Was all he said before grabbing a disinfect wipe and carefully cleaning each cut. Most of them were of no consequence, but that didn’t seem to matter to the Mandalorian, he made sure they were each thoroughly cleaned and if any of them needed, properly bandaged.

“Thank you,” You said softly as he finally finished the last cut on your arm.

You got a nod in response, before he crouched down close to the floor. He grabbed the calf of your injured leg, pulling it closer to himself. He looked up at you again, clearly waiting for permission to take a look at your ankle. You gave him another nod before watching as he carefully rolled your pants up. You and him winced at the same time as you noticed the very swollen ankle, which was already bruising. You knew it was from continuing to run after the initial injury but it wasn’t like you had had a choice.

“This may take awhile to heal” Din pointed out.

“I’ll be fine,” You insisted, “Nothing I can’t walk off”

You could feel the annoyed look Din was giving you, even if you couldn’t see his face.

“You will be doing no such thing.”

“You can’t put me on bed rest.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“You bet your ass I can”

You wanted to object but you knew that he was being quite serious and would not take you being stubborn well, especially after you almost got yourself killed.

“Fine, I promise to go easy, just wrap it up and then we can get off this stupid rock.” You sighed.

Din gave a satisfied noise before pulling his focus back to your ankle. He carefully wrapped the ankle, making sure it was tight enough to reduce the swelling and to make sure to stabilize it but not too tight as to be uncomfortable or to cause the blood flow to be stopped.

“Are there any other injuries I’ve missed?” He asked when he finished.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s get you to bed,” Din stood up and offered his arm for you. You carefully stood up, keeping your weight on your good ankle. As soon as you were standing, Din snaked his arm under you and helped gently lead you towards your bunk.

“Do you need anything else?” He asked after you were settled into the blankets.

“No, I think you’ve covered everything,” You gave him an appreciative smile, “Thank you”

“Anytime.” He replied, “Though, if you were better at following my directions, things like this wouldn’t happen.”

“Are you seriously blaming me for getting shot?” You huffed.

“Well I do remember telling you to grab your blaster before leaving, and to not wander off.” He pointed out.

“I just don’t think it's very kind to blame me, the very injured person, right now.” You pouted.

“Fine but once you’re healed, we will be continuing this conversation.”

“Of course we will” You playfully rolled your eyes. While it could be annoying how overbearing Din was, after the way he had just cared for you, it was clear it was because of how much you meant to him, which made it hard to be mad at him.

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froggibus · 11 months

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Shoot Before You See The Target - Hanzo Shimada

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada x reader

Genre: fluff, little bit of hurt/comfort cause its me

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: from the moment you met, Hanzo's wanted you to be his, but what if he misses the mark with you?

CW: attempted kidnapping, some violence, reader gets held at swordpoint, Hanzo kills a bunch of people, otherwise pretty cute and wholesome

its been a while since i wrote anything overwatch lol but here's some hanzo brainrot i got from listening to too much spotify this week <3

————

The first time he sees you, you’re poised in the middle of Hanamura square, hands wrapped around the blue hilt of your sword. There’s a big smile on your face while you demonstrate a technique to a group of kids sporting wooden swords decorated with stickers and marker drawings.

It’s a rare occasion for him to leave his apartment these days, even more rare for him to show his face around town. But he’s started to go stir crazy within those walls, and it’s a nice enough day for a walk.

He leans back against a bike rack and folds his arms across his chest, watching as you go around and correct the stances of several children. You’re so delicate with them, hands gently guiding them into position, encouraging voice cooing at them when they get it right.

He lets a soft sigh blow past his lips. It’s been a long time since he’s seen such delicacy, and it makes him long for better times.

You walk back to the front of the group of children and show them another move, the scabbard of your sword glistening in the sunlight. Hanzo watches your movement, silently correcting it in his head.

You’re good—you’ve definitely had training, but there’s room for improvement. He shakes his head. You don’t need his advice. You’re trying to do a good thing here, teaching the youth of Hanamura and Kanezaka the ways of the sword.

With recent gang activity and violence, it’s admirable. At least, admirable of those ignorant enough to not see how you’re directly presenting yourself as a threat.

Hanzo finds himself watching you for the better part of the afternoon, even after the sun begins to sink low on the horizon. Once all of the people have gone home, children rushing down the streets to get home in time for dinner, you start to pack up your things.

“You can come out,” you say to the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. “I don’t bite.”

Hanzo considers it for a moment before stepping forwards into the last remnants of the daylight. He doesn’t say anything, but the lift of his eyebrow is an acknowledgment towards you.

You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So, are you looking for lessons?”

“Lessons?” He scoffs, before clearing his throat, “no.”

“Then what brings you here?”

After living with his controlling father and out of control brother, it’s second nature to Hanzo to think on his feet. He would never openly admit that he found you attractive—that would be inappropriate. But he also doesn’t want to lie to you.

“The city is dangerous this time of night I, uh,” he sighs, “I thought I’d offer to escort you home.”

“I think that I just demonstrated I’m more than able to take care of myself.”

You try to fight the butterflies in your stomach at this gorgeous man offering to walk you home. Dark eyes look at you through thick lashes, loose strands of black hair falling out of his bun and into his face.

“Besides, I don’t even know you. How do I know you’re not the danger?”

He extends a hand. “Hanzo.”

“Y/n,” you can’t help but let out a laugh at his eagerness.

Your eyes trail up his hand, following the line work of his tattooed arm. He has muscles but not the pretty, for show kind. No, these are practical muscles built from pain and practice.

“So, y/n,” you like the way your name sounds in his gruff voice. “Can I escort you home?”

Your heart flutters at that. Not ‘do you want me to?’, not ‘I thought I’d offer’ but ‘Can I’. It warms you.

“You promise you’re not going to murder me?”

“The night is young.” His voice is monotone, but the intention is clear. Hanzo is trying to joke with you.

The two of you walk side by side through the city, making small talk in the dark. You learn that Hanzo grew up here from the way he navigates the streets. He’s an archer, he enjoys solitude and warm sake, and he tenses up whenever he mentions his family.

He mentions how he doesn’t leave his apartment very often and how he hasn’t connected with anyone in a long time.

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I…struggle, sometimes, to connect with others. I don’t like to put myself out there unless I know how it will end.”

“You can’t live your life like that,” you look up at him, and despite the darkness, he can see the sparkle in your eyes. “If you’re always stuck feeling things out, you’ll never get anywhere.”

He looks confused, brows furrowed at your words. He looks so cute like this, you’re tempted to sweep the hair from his face.

“I’ll put it into terms you'll understand,” you shoot him a teasing grin. “It’s like archery. You miss all of the shots you don’t take, right?”

He nods, wondering where you’re going with this.

“Sometimes you’re under pressure or a time crunch, and you don’t have time to line up the perfect shot. You just go for it and hope for the best.”

He still doesn’t understand, but you keep going.

“Sometimes you have to shoot before you see the target.” You say, “sometimes you have to go for things even if you don’t know how they’ll turn out, because what if they turn out better than you could possibly imagine?”

Your words echo in his ears. Sometimes you need to shoot before you see the target. He’s never done that before. He’s always thought of himself as practical and calculated—lining up the perfect shot, holding the perfect position, waiting until the perfect time. He might just have to take your advice.

Before you know it, you’re at the entrance to your apartment, waving goodbye to Hanzo while you walk up the steps. Hanzo waits until the door locks behind you before heading back to his place.

He still thinks of you and your dazzling smile and your words. He needs to see more of you, no matter what it takes.

————

It becomes a little routine for the two of you over the next month—Hanzo comes to watch you teach the kids and walks you home afterwards.

You get to know each other more and more, and eventually he even opens up about his clan and his brother and his father. You tell him all about your life, too. How you learned to wield a sword, all about your family and your life in Hanamura.

Eventually you even invite him in for tea or sake at the end of the night, the two of you sitting around the fireplace and chatting even more. He blends right in with your home. All domestic and soft, sharp angles pacified by the softness of his eyes.

You don’t have his number, you don’t know where he lives. Your whole relationship is based on the silent agreement that he’ll show up for you every day, and that you’ll be there waiting for him.

You finish up with the kids a bit later today, the sun already setting as you do. You were teaching a particularly hard technique, and you were late making it to the square after work.

You begin to pack up your stuff. “So, how was your day?”

You don’t see him with your head facing the opposite direction, but you just expect him to be there like every day before.

You’re met with silence.

You turn around, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Your eyes narrow at the bike rack where he usually hangs out, only to see that he’s not there. Your head darts in either direction, but the archer is nowhere to be seen.

Your shoulders slump. You knew it was too good to be true. Whatever. You were fine before him and you’ll be fine after him. Still, it doesn’t stop the way your heart sinks and stomach plummets.

You begin the walk back to your apartment, hand gripping the sword in your bag just in case. It’s true that the streets have been more dangerous lately, and having Hanzo with you made it feel safer. But you’re fine. You’ve always been fine. You’ll be fine.

The sound of footsteps behind you has your head snapping backwards. There’s nothing there, and you manage to convince yourself that it’s the echo of your shoes against the buildings.

You hear more footsteps now and glance over your shoulder. Still nothing. You speed up, eyes locked on the row ahead. More footsteps, louder and faster now.

You glance over your shoulder and see a group of men dressed in all black chasing after you. You start running, pulling your sword out of your back and ripping it out of the hilt. You’re not going down without a fight.

You’re so busy looking over your shoulder that you don’t see the man in front of you. You run directly into him, tumbling onto your butt. Your sword clatters across the brick sidewalk out of your reach. Someone rips you off of the ground, forcing you onto your feet.

A blade presses to your throat, a gruff voice commanding you. “Scream.”

You bite your lip and shake your head. The blade digs in enough to draw blood.

“You’re not the prey we’re looking for tonight. Obey us and you’ll live.”

You clench your jaw. Prey? What prey are they looking for? What could they possibly be trying to attract by using you?

One of the other men in the group approaches you, sword in hand. He points it towards your chest, poking the tip at your sternum.

He starts to apply more pressure, but before he can push too hard, there’s an arrow in his chest and he collapses. You squint at the arrow in the dark.

Suddenly it becomes obvious what their prey is. Or rather, who.

Another man goes down and you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes your lips. It’s hysterical and rough and raw, and anyone around you would think you’re crazy.

The man holding the sword to your throat shoved you forwards. “Shut up,” he nudges you along, trying to force you away from the carnage.

The rest of his men drop around him, perfectly aimed arrows sticking out of them. You glance up in the direction that they’re being shot from, and your eyes meet his. It’s dark and you can hardly see, but you know he’s staring at you.

Hanzo squints at you in the dark. There’s only one left, and it’s the one holding a sword to your throat. One wrong move and you die. He can’t get a clean shot on the man, he can barely see in the dark and the areas of him poking out from behind you are so tiny he won’t be able to hit them.

You see the hesitation on his face, the conflict. But you trust him. It’s Hanzo, and he’s kept you safe for this long. You lock eyes with him and give him a nod.

Hanzo knows what you’re saying without you needing to say it. A month later and your words still ring in his ears. Sometimes you have to shoot before you see the target.

Hanzo nocks another arrow, takes a deep breath, and releases. The arrow sinks into the man’s shoulder, and he drops his sword to the ground. He tumbled onto the sidewalk and clutches at his shoulder, groaning in pain.

Tears fill your eyes. He did it. He hit the shot and saved you.

You pick up your sword from the ground and shove the hilt into the man’s head. He stops groaning, eyes rolling back.

Hanzo comes running towards you, loose strands of hair blowing in the wind. “Are you alright?”

“You hit the shot,” you breathe.

His hands are on you before he can stop them. He’s checking your skin for any bruises or cuts, but the only one he finds is the red mark on your skin from the sword.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, hands gently squeezing your forearms. “I-I’m sorry I was late. There was an issue I needed to take care of and—”

“You saved me.”

Hanzo freezes, mouth falling open. You’re looking at him like he hung the moon, stars in your eyes.

Before you know it, he’s grabbing you and tugging you into him, lips smashing onto yours. His strong arms hold you securely, scared someone’s going to take you from him again.

Your hands tangle in his hair, pushing the loose strands from his face. He tastes like sake and brown sugar and everything you’ve ever wanted. You melt into him, letting your body sag against his.

Hanzo pulls back, a flush to his face you’ve never seen before. “Can I walk you home?”

You lace your fingers with his, offering him a grin. “Promise not to murder me?”

“The night is still young.”

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #overwatch headcanons #hanzo shimada #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada x you #hanzo x you #hanzo x reader #ow hanzo #hanzo imagines #x You

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twig-tea · 7 months

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BL/QL Ask game : The Ugly, the Bad and the Worst

Thank you for the game, @clara-maybe-ontheroad! And thanks for tagging me @clara-maybe-ontheroad and @lurkingshan! I started out by saying to myself that I'm going to do my best to ignore my urges and just answer the first thing that comes to me rather than treating this like a quiz. And then I went into a fugue and worked on this for >5 hours. WHOOPS.

Original version here for anyone else who wants to play!

Also quick warning, this is asking about the worsts, so TW for mentions of horrific plot points below.

Worst soundtrack / weirdest song choice in a BL

Ohhhhh man, ok so the first thought that came to mind was Never Let Me Go, which mostly had fantastic background music, and that's maybe why when it didn't hit it stood out so badly (sorry to my man Pond, not all BL actors should be singers! And having his OST play over their kiss in Part 7 4/4 was just mean). For the record I love this show (actually maybe it should go in one of the below categories because so many tumblr folks dislike it) but this was rough.

Most cringe-inducing line (cute)

These don't tend to stick with me...there are so many, and I am allergic to sincerity so everything earnest is various levels of cringe to me. So with that in mind, basically everything Gavreel ever said in Gameboys counts.

Most cringe-inducing line (actually bad)

Anytime someone said "Once I start I won't be able to stop" or some variation.

Most stupid decision made by a character

Jun Ho deciding to die rather than bite Min Hyun in Kissable Lips. Min Hyun was offering. it would have made Jun Ho human. He could have had his friends around to make sure he didn't go too far and kill him. Instead he decides to fade away in his arms like a dick. WHY.

Special mention to NuengDiao going back to his hotel where his murderous uncle is waiting with no plan other than to walk in wearing a suit and a cocky expression in Never Let Me Go.

[@bengiyo and @wen-kexing-apologist are correct about Teh giving up his spot to Oh Aew in I Told Sunset About You as the actual correct answer, btw]

Worst plot line

Every penultimate episode crises resulting in the leads splitting up so that they can reunite in the finale that are not earned and significantly detract from my enjoyment of a series [this list is not comprehensive]: 2Gether, Minato's Laundromat S2, Enchanté, Love Class, Plus & Minus.

The most problematic show you've watched

I've seen literally all of them so this feels like an unfair question lol there are layers of problematic; like, is it even worth considering all of the problems with A Round Trip to Love, or The Shortest Distance is Round, or What the Duck s2? I wrote out summaries for these and then decided no thanks. If anyone wants to know they can DM me.

In terms of series that are problematic but not often considered problematic, I'm calling out Love Area the series. It hits two of my pet peeves: shitty treatment of a poor character by an oblivious rich love interest that directly affects their sources of income, and an ableist subplot. I think it also has an unearned separation in the penultimate episode but honestly I remember thinking they should stay split up so maybe it was earned.

A show people love but you find bad

Vice Versa. Sorry to all who love that show. I wanted to like it; the colouring and cinematography are beautiful and the alternate universe was neat worldbuilding. But the plot makes me so, so angry.

Ditto Cutie Pie the series. I just can't enjoy it.

A show people find bad but you will defend

Honestly there are several, but the one that is most disliked that I will ride hardest for is probably Secret Crush On You (which I argued ended with one of the most healthy relationships in a BL here LMAO). I get why people find this show hard to watch, the cringe is real. But the gender expression! The found family! The "he's a weirdo and that's why I love him" dynamic! The mutual lusting! The body dysphoria! The fact that both start by playing into BL tropes and it's only by throwing those out that they can actually have a meaningful relationship! The way both characters have real growth! And like yes Toh is a fanboy stalker but that is problematized in the show! It gave us the growth from fanboy to faen that Be Mine Superstar didn't. I have a lot of emotions about this show.

ALSO because I cannot stop, I will forever to my dying breath defend Color Rush. I don't care what you say about dead fish kisses I can't hear you over the incredibly powerful metaphor about the queer experience!

A show that is just objectively bad but you enjoyed it

Bahahhaha. Um. So many, my friends. OH I'm going to take this chance to shout out the lesser-known webseries Discipline Z: Vampire (Korean, YouTube, 2020). It's ostensibly a sequel to Discipline, but the only thing they share is a single character so you don't need to watch it to understand what's happening in Discipline Z (they are entirely different shows in every way; Discipline is more youth slice of life with a queer story as part of the ensemble). Listen, I'm talking about this show in this category for a reason; it's about a vampire who falls for a street dancer, whose motley crew of hacker friends help rescue the vampire from an evil corporation that wants to experiment on him to understand his immortality. It is BAD.

But. BUT! I love it. Everyone is so pretty. There is a cute hacker girlie. There is scifi nonsense to explain immortality. There is a good kiss. There are characters willing to sacrifice to do the right thing. I am a simple woman. [Fair warning to my happy ending only pals: this ending is ambiguous at best; there was supposed to be a follow-up epilogue for the couple, but it never got filmed.]

Bonus, En of Love was absolutely trash and it has a very special place in my heart. It's not good (like, at all), but it's great.

A bad show that you kept watching because you were intrigued/fascinated

Let's go with Physical Therapy the series. At some point I just kept watching like a car wreck to see how bad it could get. Also shout-out to Dinosaur Love, which was...similarly bewildering.

A bad show that you kept watching because you were horny

@lurkingshan already stole my first answer for this, but oh man I stay a Why R U apologist for the Fighter/Tutor chemistry. I actually think somewhere in there is a really interesting show, if the pandemic hadn't made it impossible for them to film the ending that they wanted to, but based on the Korean version and the parts that we were told had to be cut, maybe it would have actually made it worse. But just to get on my soapbox for half a sec, Tutor was in debt, working himself to exhaustion, and Fighter (after he got over himself) protected him at his one job, joined him to help him meet his sales targets at another, hired him for a third, paid off his debt collector to take the pressure off, and then took him on vacation to help him relax--twice. I have issues with depictions of poverty in BL but at least my man secured the bag while also pursuing love or whatever. Also he whispers "get inside me" while they're making out, sorry, Tutor will forever be a fave of mine.

Since that's taken, I'm going to use this as an excuse to shout out the hotness of My Day the Series. It was predominantly not great but the heat moments....

A bad show that you kept watching because of that one character

I'm giving this to Noey Watplu from I Will Knock You. I was obsessed with him. I want his confidence so badly. I love how he's essentially a dork in cosplay but gets away with it because of his rizz. Truly iconic. This man decided he was being seduced and said "bet". I really enjoyed this show because of him and him alone.

A bad show that you would still recommend

I'm going to put Ghost Host Ghost House here. It's "bad" in the sense that it had low production values (like, really bad, so bad the time of day changes at random because they lost the light while filming). But the romance was cute, the story around the romance was interesting, the worldbuilding around the merit credits was fascinating, the side mystery was so heartbreaking, the various characters actually had a lot of difficult emotions to portray, and overall I think this show is underrated.

I also already have and will again recommend YYY as a fun and fascinating watch to anyone who asks about it, @waitmyturtles is correct on that call.

The character that ruined a show the most

There are several annoying sides in BL, but I'm giving this to the side hets in My Oxygen. A fujoshi who records people without their consent for online clout is bad. A doctor using his role as a doctor to get closer to his patient is really bad. Pretending to be interested in his friend because the girl he likes is a fujoshi is worse; then using her brother as his friend's stand-in when his friend won't put up with it anymore is the WORST.

Most awful character that you hated

I mean, Lhong in TharnType takes it for not only arranging the gang rape of Tar, but being forgiven for it in the series. Neung in Tonhon Chonlatee comes a close second for attempting to rape Chonlatee and then claiming the moral high ground against his homophobic "friend". Tony in History 5: Love in the Future doesn't get enough hate for trying to murder someone just because he was his love rival. Namning in La Cuisine had her love rival bullied, beaten and who knows what she was going to do with that gun. Also shoutout to @wen-kexing-apologist's answer of Korn, in KinnPorsche, he was so insidiously evil, it was so well done.

Most awful character that you loved

I'm going with "awful" as not necessarily (just) morally bad but that people didn't like: Jaime from Win Jaime's Heart. Objectively he's a fuckboi of the worst calibre. He agrees to go on a webshow in which he dates Heart so that he can seduce the creator of the show Winston. And Jaime is so charming that I don't care about his bi wrongs (partially, to be fair, because the premise is ridiculous so it's hard to take too seriously).

Special mention (because it's not a series) to Wine in Red Wine in the Dark Night. I love a murder twink (speaking of, things are looking really good for me to stay in love with Ai Di from Kiseki if it keeps on this track).

If we're interpreting "awful" as characters that other people don't like, it'll probably go to Toh from Secret Crush on You or Gus in Diary of Tootsies. They're flawed, they're femme, they're fantastic.

A character that wasn't awful but that you just don't like

Can in Love By Chance and the sequels. Tinn is an asshole and knows it; Can is an asshole but is also self-righteous, but in all honesty his biggest flaw for me is that he's not competent and I have little patience for that.

A hero that should have been a villain

Tempted to give this to Ko from Love Poison for essentially trying to love spell date rape his love interest--this is only not that bad because magic isn't real so of course it doesn't do anything.

Possibly Athit (Boun's character) from Even Sun? I put a question mark there because this was so convoluted and hard to follow I'm not even 100% sure I remember it right, but from what I remember, this was not a romantic story at all.

Taking a totally different approach to the question, Joke from Hidden Agenda should have been a secret villain (in the sense that he should have been scheming and sociopathic but hiding it, ineffectually, from Zo) in order to make the series make sense, but apparently I can't have nice things.

And finally, special mention to Phu in The Promise for being the villain for so many of us already.

A morally bad character you're into

Zhu Zi Shu, canon war criminal and child murderer from Word of Honor. He thought he was doing bad things for good reasons (protecting the people he loves), realized he was just doing bad things and the people he loves were all dead anyway, and crafted a convoluted plot to get out of the secret society rules that he created to prevent anyone from leaving. And then he wanders aimless until he meets Wen Ke Xing and becomes as loyal to this equally morally dubious man as he was to his secret society. I love him (and them) so much.

Same type of deal, different scale of crime: Akk from The Eclipse. I have a soft spot for this trope.

A morally bad character you're not into and you wish people would stop being into

Xue Yang from The Untamed. Also a mass murderer, but doing it just for the vibes/to avenge his finger, so he gets zero love from me. People woobify him just because he's sassy it's...rough.

The show that disappointed you the most

From hype to execution? So Much in Love / Ni Yam Ruk. I slogged through such awful subs TWICE (because they claimed they redid them, but they are still terrible) to try to give this show a chance, because the premise sounded right up my alley. I still think there's a show in there that I would have liked, but it is literally unwatchable.

Most disappointed from what the show seemed like it was doing at the start to what it delivered in full is a tie between The Shipper and Step By Step.

The Worst Show of Them All Because of Your Own Reasons

That's My Candy. I've only ever dropped/not finished I think 3 or so shows? And this was the most painful and the one I am least likely to ever finish. The pairing was overplayed, the comedy was heavy handed, and the plot was absolutely cringe inducing. It was literally torture trying to watch this.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading!

Tagging @visualtaehyun @nothingsbetterthancoffee @lurkingteapot @snidgetwrites @formayhem @slayerkitty @respectthepetty @ginnymoonbeam no pressure as always! And if you play and I didn't tag you but you're reading this, tag me anyway! I love reading everyone's answers.

#worst bl shows the ask game #ask game #tag game #thanks for the tag!#this was a fun mental exercise #multi bl

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alans-maladaptive-daydreams · 1 year

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Love in the eyes of Asmodeus.

Asmo fic because he is the cutest. I hope nightbringer gives us a lot of content about their past and personalities more in depth, I really want a story that makes me cry lol.

Warnings: Slight mention of abuse, violence and mental illness. Non-native writing, always open to corrections and constructive criticism.

Reader: Gender Neutral.

Genre: A little bit of angst and fluff.

Masterlist

Asmodeus was always physically beautiful and had taken advantage of this from the first moment he set foot in Devildom. To anyone's eyes this makes him seem cold, the reality is that sometimes he simply liked to see people ruined by his own hand. Sometimes he didn't even feel the need or desire for anything, he simply wanted to see those who gave him their love and their bodies to remain by his side to suffer.

He liked to think that those who loved him, loved him so much that they would rather die than not have him. He provoked madness in his lovers and his ego was filled with it. He ruined their minds, they became almost slaves to his love.

More than once he had seen two people kill each other for him, for a long time it was fun. He liked having so much attention, even if he had to use charms on his prey, he would, he was not interested in anyone's well being but his own.

It used to be Asmodeus and his ego, a toxic ego as destructive as a natural disaster. One that terribly destroyed all the victims of his charms.

Eventually it all became lonely. I knew it when I saw one of his victims being happy with a person who really loved him.

It used to be Asmodeus and his ego, a toxic ego as destructive as a natural disaster. One that terribly tore apart all the victims of his charms.

Eventually it all became lonely. He knew it when he saw one of his victims being happy with a person who really loved him.

He remembered being in the human world with Solomon, perhaps the only person who tolerated him, they had gone to buy some stupid experiment of the wizard and while Asmodeus was sitting on a bench in the beautiful park, waiting for Sol, he saw them.

He knew they were an attractive person, yet that day they looked more attractive than he had ever imagined. Maybe it was the haircut or the impeccable style they wore. Maybe it was because they had put on weight and looked healthy. Or maybe it was the beautiful smile that graced their face as they looked at the person with them.

Asmodeus knew that their beauty was not only a physical change, but also a mental one. When he abandoned them to their fate, they became depressed and sick after he had taken everything from them, leaving them to practically die in sad loneliness.

For the first time the demon understood the harm he was causing people and regretted all the damage he had caused, regretted leaving them in such a depressing state.

It must have been painful to have to even breathe in that precarious and cold flat in which he had left them. No money, no health. Lonely, huddling together to try to generate some warmth for themselves.

They looked beautiful being happy, he thought as he watched the couple hold hands and talk quietly. He really wished that this time they could get that happiness that his disastrous lifestyle had robbed them of.

That moment sparked something in Asmodeus, a desire to be loved too. A desire to be happy and to be able to live peacefully with his beloved, but he knew he didn't deserve it.

He had committed too many sins and unleashed the worst in him, now he was alone, with guilt and insecurities gnawing at his brain on a daily basis.

He gave his heart away so few times in his long life that he only needed one hand to count them, and he even had fingers to spare. But those times were enough to shatter his self-esteem completely, to leave him on his knees begging for forgiveness from all the people he had hurt.

He thought that someone like him did not deserve to be loved. Every time he read the sweet comments of his followers, every time someone confessed their love to him, Asmodeus felt guilty. He wanted to be an example of perfection, he didn't want to be a nuisance or worry the people around him, Asmodeus didn't think he was worthy of any kind of love after ruining so many lives.

Until one day Barbatos opens a portal and a human, a clumsy one with seemingly no survival instinct, falls through and hits their ass on the reddish carpet.

You and Asmodeus connected gazes, and only seconds into the Devildom, the demon knew you were destined and that it was going to hurt too much to love you.

Strangely his seductive tricks didn't work on you, he remembered throwing a tantrum in his room after you looked at him funny when he tried one of his spells on you. You were immune to his magic and that complicated things.

His self-confidence was shaken when he learned that his brothers were after you too, he spent nights wondering why you would want someone like him. He's not smart like Satan or sleek like Lucifer. He doesn't have a beefy body and a beautiful heart like Beelzebub or the tenderness and calmness of Belphegor. Nor is he as interesting and strangely attractive as Leviathan, let alone as charismatic and funny as Mammon.

He was just a pretty face who wanted to crawl between your legs and vanish. A demon with too many dead bodies in the wardrobe, and who would probably break your heart after he got what he wanted.

For a long time he was content to be your friend and nothing more. He really thought you didn't see him as more than that, so your clumsy but brave confession took him by surprise. You had told him one day at RAD, as you rested on the soft grass. You bought him a new collection from his favourite designer and, with hands shaking and sweat beading on your forehead, you told him how you felt.

"Asmo…" you murmured, your heart racing, feeling like you were going to faint at any moment. The tingle you felt whenever he looked at you appeared when he turned to look at you with that cute expression. You held out the gift for which you had worked and collected grim, and when he was about to thank you, you interrupted him. "Asmo, we are friends and I have heard you say many times how you didn't think someone should love you for all you have done in the past. You opened up and showed me all your hurts and insecurities. You showed me your soul." Asmodeus looked intrigued at where your speech was going, you felt your voice tremble and you begged to please not let it fail you at that very important moment.

You loved him so much that there were no words to prove it, even with how disastrous the beginning of his life was, even with the worst of his demonic self, you loved him and maybe you weren't in your right mind to give yourself so blindly to a being who would probably break you for the fun of it, but you were already there and you weren't going to back down. "You're one of the sweetest people I've ever met. And even though we have the same pain when we look ourselves in the mirror…you helped me to love myself. You helped me to be kind to myself, to forgive myself. You too should forgive yourself for all that you have done Asmo. A sweet and loving being like you deserves all the love in the world. You deserve to love yourself because you are already loved Asmo, you just don't notice it," you gulped and your face felt hot.

You were going to dive in head first and nothing was going to stop you, not if it was someone like him. "I love you Asmo, as a partner, as a friend…and as someone who is in love with your whole being. I love everything about you, from the most mundane things, to the things that make you most insecure. All those mistakes you have made, all the things you regret have made you the wonderful person you are today, I love everything about you even the things you think are unforgivable. I love you Asmodeus."

Your breathing had calmed as you watched the shocked face of the demon in front of you. For every second you waited for him to respond, you felt your heart break. It was like a bucket of ice water. You weren't going to cry in front of him.

So the only thing that came to your mind was to withdraw in silence. You thought his silence meant rejection but Asmodeus was as nervous as you were, he couldn't understand why you had chosen him. He wanted to reply that it was obvious that you were going to love someone like him, he wanted to reply with his typical confidence but he was blank and by the time he realised it he was crying.

His cheeks red and wet from his salty tears made you a little nervous. The beautiful eyes of the demon looked at you with a gaze full of surprise and love.

No magic, no spells. No tricks or secret intentions.

You loved him, you simply and honestly loved him.

You loved him in a way that he had only seen in fiction, in a way so pure and sincere.

That very afternoon was the beginning of a beautiful love story. To the surprise of both of you, his brothers looked happy with the relationship, they didn't throw a tantrum like you thought they would.

"I'm happy you found love, Asmo," said Lucifer hugging his brother. They all looked happy, and even bought food to celebrate.

Asmo felt something different that night as he dined with his loved ones, he felt that maybe what he was looking for was always right in front of his eyes. Not only did the romantic love he felt for you fill him, the love he received from all those around him made his heart overflow with emotion.

After hurting so many people. After redeeming himself and accepting his punishments one by one. After searching for love for so long. After the enormous journey he had made, Asmodeus could finally say that he knew true love.

His friends, who supported and comforted him whenever his insecurities plagued him. His fans who filled his Devilgram with messages of love whenever they heard he was having a bad time. His brothers who watched over him from the moment he opened his eyes for the first time. You, who refused to leave him even when the world turned against him.

That was true love for Asmodeus and he loved love.

#obey me scenarios #obey me fanfiction #obey me x reader #obey me imagine #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me mc #obey me fanfic #alan's maladaptive daydreams

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theragethatisdesire · 8 months

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i’m sorry ur not feeling well 🥺💗 sending you positive vibes tonight!!

for the slumber party plz tell me allll about your favourite character that you don’t currently write about 🙊 i wanna hear all the secret deets

HEY TIFFFFF i appreciate it :( i hope i'm not like being annoying venting on here i'm just so miz and i know my irls are sick of hearing it lolol anyways!!!!

okay my current obsession is gojo. and bc i haven't actually started the fic yet, i don't technically write for him often, only per request. does that count? idk i wanna talk ab gojo lol

just gonna throw everything below a cut because idk where i'm headed with this. minors stay away!

this is like, canonical, but gojo's so fucking annoying LMAO like i just know he is the most obnoxious, can't-sit-still, sarcastic asshole on the planet. he really makes it hard to love him sometimes.

this....is not a spoiler for a fic i'm def not writing (wink wink) but i just don't think gojo could really properly fall for someone who was not powerful. like i think part of his distance from others is his (admitted) narcissism that is somewhat well-earned considering he is....gojo fucking satoru. he needs someone that is at least somewhat towards the top of their ranks in whatever they do.

i also feel like gojo would be encouraging to a fault? like always pushing you further towards your goals, stepping in obnoxiously if your boss doesn't notice you've been working your ass off for a promotion (again, annoying). like he won't rest until you've made progress.

gojo also gets baby girl-ified WAY too much

like hear me out

we see him through the eyes of the kids/around his students in most of s1, and that's not to say he doesn't have the potential to be a playful, lighthearted person *when he wants to be*

but remember that scene of him talking to the jujustu higher-up where the guy tells him to watch his mouth and gojo laughs in his fucking face??

he's an egotistical, all-powerful, ballsy maniac. like gojo is not braiding your hair and cooing in your ear 24/7.

he is slowly backing you into a wall and taking what he wants from you. like sorry he just is.

also gojo strikes me as someone who is ....nasty. like, blood and knife play, gun play, psychopathic kind of nasty in the bedroom. idk if i would personally ever write that, but he's been through so much and seen so much gore you know that that's fucked with his....tastes, so to speak

i do think however that gojo would be absolutely devoted to his partner

like it would take him forever to come around and accept that he now felt responsible for protecting yet another person and that he had accidentally formed a connection (i see gojo as also having a very weird relationship with his humanity vs. his divinity but more on that another time)

but once he's around? he's in it for life. i mean, even if you don't ship stsg, you must acknowledge that gojo has never been willing to truly let geto go. he couldn't kill him, refused to believe geto had done that even though geto was showing signs of deteriorating mentally.

he's the same way with his partner. good luck breaking up with gojo because it's going to be a years long process.

gojo loves someone who can push back at him. he doesn't want an entirely submissive partner (kinda like eren!)

he likes someone who will put him in his place, has a sharp tongue, isn't afraid to stand up for themselves or others.

love language is absolutely gift-giving like that man has to spoil his partner he can't help it

size kink. turns his infinity on mid-sex to punish you. wants to have sex where he stands overlooking tokyo in the s1 opening. always takes the blindfold off during sex. huge public sex guy. i said what i said. it's hard being correct.

i could literally go on for HOURS tiff you have no idea the grip this man has on me. i cannot wait to write this fic!!!!!!!! ah!!!!!

thanks for coming to my slumber party lovie kisses from me to u :)

#rage.rambles #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #tiff.moot #slumber party

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acaplaya-musings · 3 months

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Vocalist positioning patterns in Voiceplay videos

The post I reblogged last night about Voiceplay minimizing height differences in some of their slightly older videos got me thinking about a comment I saw ages ago on the Wicked Medley video, and basically, it seems that when the members of Voiceplay (plus any guest artist/s they may be featuring) are arranged in a clear left-to-right format for a video, Geoff and Layne are positioned on each end. I don't know exactly how the guys decide the literal line-up order for such videos, but for one thing, Geoff and Layne are usually the main "percussion" for the songs and aren't typically doing as much of the main vocal parts (though more on that in a moment), and for another, they're the tallest of all the members, past and present (Layne being 6"1 and Geoff being just one and a half inches shorter), so having them at either end makes symmetrical sense (I guess) (though such effect is reduced when you have Layne and Eli standing right next to each other anyway, lol).

Anyway, point is, I wanted to know if Geoff and Layne really were stuck as "end fixtures" (not to sound mean) as often as it seemed, and I decided to record stats on Eli's positioning too, because he's the only other consistent member of the group across all the videos I used. I grabbed stats from all (or nearly all at least) relevant videos from 2018 (earliest: This Is Halloween) to 2023 (latest: Jingle Bell Rock), where the members were arranged in a clear left-to-right format for at least part of the video (e.g. Valhalla Calling and This Is Halloween (not the Queen Medley though because I somehow forgot that it also counted, and not the Boy Band Medley because they move around a lot)), even if they weren't actually physically next to each other (e.g. Golden Hour, I Will Survive, and My Mother Told Me), for a grand total of 40!

So yes, I was correct in that Layne and Geoff are almost always the ones on the end, though interestingly, both of them have been on the left end a little more than the right end. The only videos I found where neither Geoff nor Layne were positioned on the far left were Seven Nation Army (Cesar instead), Lost In Japan (Earl instead) (only going off the thumbnail for this one), and Tennessee Whiskey (Eli instead - see table). In comparison, There are 9 videos out of the 40 counted here where neither Geoff nor Layne were the furthest on the right.

Some other interesting things of note:

The positioning of a vocalist in a Voiceplay video is not always indicative of the amount of lead-singing that they do in the song. E.g. Geoff is centred in 4 videos, but in one of them he only gets a chorus solo (Tennessee Whiskey) and in one he doesn't take the lead at all (Lost In Japan - he's centred in the thumbnail, but that is very much a J None performance, with the others only there for percussion and harmonies really) (the other two are Bridge Over Troubled Water, which I haven't listened to enough but I know he starts the song off (and maybe finishes it too?) and Hellfire, which he definitely is the lead vocalist on)

The only time Layne gets centre position is Warriors. He doesn't sing in it, but he does absolutely kill it on the (electric?) violin, and beatboxes at the same time!

(Also note that there are 4 videos that don't even have a centre at all, due to having a lineup of 4 or 6 vocalists (The Heart Of Life, Eleanor Rigby, Wicked Medley, and Jingle Bell Rock)

The only two times Eli has been furthest on the right is Hide And Seek/Ding Dong and Bridge Over Troubled Water

Geoff has never been placed 2nd from the right (watch Voiceplay read my mind and do it for a 2024 video), but has been 2nd from the left twice, in Jingle Bell Rock (technically), and Seven Nation Army

Layne, however, has been 2nd from the right once (The Heart Of Life), and 2nd from the left 4 times (not listing these ones, go find out yourself!)

#There's a small part 2 of sorts that I will be putting in a reblog #I call this “I'm autistic ADHD and Very Bored”#My options for posting this were my personal Discord server or this sideblog #I figured I wouldn't be getting any responses to the post either way but I thought it fit better here #Voiceplay #Geoff Castellucci #Layne Stein #Eli Jacobson #Acapella #acaplaya analysis

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kazoosandfannypacks · 11 months

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"Wishing it Wasn't" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 14/18: Something to Believe In Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: Teen Word Count: (1K/19.5K) Summary: Season 2 Canon Divergence: When Neal tells Emma he has a fiancée, she claims to have a new boyfriend of her own, and blurts out the first fairytale name she can think of: Captain Hook. Killian agrees to this ruse, but when feelings grow between the two, will the con be more than they can handle? Chapter Summary: Killian rushes to Emma's side to let her know he believes in her, but he may be the only one who does- which will come with dire consequences Tags: season 2, canon divergence, gun violence, angst with a happy ending, fake dating, mild character death, mildly anti neal Author's notes: While writing this fic, I sent snippets of this scene to my best friend, basically explaining how I left Greg unconscious and handcuffed to a pipe and in that draft I'd never resolved that. I found out forty five minutes later that I had instead sent that information to our camp's discord server. Our camp director's name is Greg. Anyways enjoy this chapter lol someone had better 😅 Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza @pawshapedheart [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

Killian fumbled about with the handcuffs. He would've assumed the hard part of this job was dragging the unconscious man to a pipe in the wall to cuff him to, but instead he found that it was getting these blasted handcuffs around his wrists- not that they were difficult to use, even with one hand, but he was rushed, and frantic, because he heard the kerfuffle going down just around the corner, and he couldn't let Swan go through it alone again.

"They don't believe her." He yelled through a whisper as he dragged the cuffs around a pipe in the wall then attached one end on Greg's other wrist. "They don't believe her!"

He ran down the hall as fast as he could, knowing that Emma needed him- or, at the very least, she needed someone to believe in her, just some reminder that even when she felt like they all turned their backs on her- again- she wasn't alone.

Admittedly, it seemed a compromising position he found Swan in- wielding a crowbar like a weapon while her ex's fianceé wept in his arms. Still, Killian ran in and stood by Emma's side.

"I believe you." Killian said.

Sure, she already knew he trusted her in this- he was the one who revealed it to her, after all- but she looked up at him, looked at him like he was some kind of safe haven, a haven of hope.

"Emma's telling the truth," Killian added, "and you'd do well to trust her."

"Oh yeah," Neal said. "Like I'm gonna trust you over the woman I love."

His statement didn't matter to Killian- he was used to being insulted like that, used to not being trusted- but the verbal attack ricocheted right into Swan, right through her heart- watching the man she loved not believe her, then hearing him confess his love for another.

"She's playing you, Neal!" Killian tried to reason. "She wants to get rid of all the magic in the realm and kill all of you to do it."

"And how would you know that, pirate?" David asked.

"She told me her whole plan." Hook said, ignoring David's usual judgments of him. "Thought I was on her side. But if I'm to get my revenge on the Crocodile, I'll do it on my own terms, and I'll fight fair."

"I don't believe you." Neal said. "Either of you."

"Dad?" Emma asked.

Killian as well turned to David, hoping he would listen to his own daughter.

"I'm sorry, Emma." David said. "We'll look into this later, but for now we should let Tamara go. She's had a troubling day already, I'm sure…."

"No!" Emma said.

"Emma." David responded, like a father correcting an insolent child. "We'll work this out. Calm down."

"No," Emma said. "You're making a mistake."

Killian watched Neal embrace Tamara, then walk away together.

"We'll get this worked out once we get some more evidence, figure out what's going on…."

"That won't be happening."

This time it was Tamara who interrupted him. She pulled a gun out of a concealed jacket pocket and pushed Neal aside, back towards the rest of the group, gun pointed at all of them.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked.

"Can't have any loose ends, and the savior and the pirate know too much," Tamara said.

Killian stepped in front of Emma, shielding her from Tamara.

"But if I just take care of them," Tamara said, "it'll draw suspicion. Gotta finish the set. Might even buy us a little time."

"Tamara?" Neal asked, sounding broken. "What are you doing?"

"I have to keep magic out of this world, Neal." Tamara said. "It doesn't belong here."

"You've been lying to me?" Neal asked.

"Duh." Killian interjected.

Neal ignored him. "How long have you been lying to me?"

"Since the beginning." Tamara replied. "That coffee spill wasn't an accident."

"You planned it all?" Neal asked. "None of it was real?"

"I had a job to do." Tamara said. "An important one. Surely you understand, Magic is dangerous."

"I won't let you do this." Neal said. "Not if Storybrooke goes down with it. I've got family here."

"Good luck getting back to them."

"Back?" David asked.

"Can't have any loose ends, and I'm not about to clean up messes."

She reached into her pocket- and Killian knew what she kept there- a magic bean stolen from the dwarves' growing efforts. Using a bean for an escape didn't make sense- unless they were the ones she wanted to escape, through a portal made for them. And without them in the way, Tamara and Greg could pull off their scheme without difficulty- and that would be the end for Emma's family.

"No!" Killian yelled. He ran at her to try and stop her, but forgot to take into account one thing- the gun Tamara was holding- and the bullet inside, the bullet that was quickly outside it- the bullet that quickly found its way into Killian's chest.

He almost felt the shot before he heard the gun fire, almost didn't know what it meant until he hit the floor. He heard Swan call his name as he tumbled back, felt the blood pooling on his shirt. And he knew what would come next- she and the others would try to help him, a portal would open at their feet, and they'd lose any chance they had at saving the town. There was no way he could die knowing that his sacrifice meant the death of Emma's family.

Fighting every instinct to scream in pain and call for help, he tried to get them to run from him.

"Get back!" He said. "She's got a bean!"

Before anyone could question him, he heard the subtle clatter of the bean against the floor, and could already feel its woosh, pulling him in, hoping his death would be alone, that the heroes wouldn't be pulled in with him, that they'd get to Tamara in time to save the day.

#once upon a time fanficton #cs fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #ouat #season 2 #canon divergence #kazzy writes #tw gun #tw gun violence

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esxvspy · 1 year

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I don’t know if anyone’s done this yet but here what I think the similarity between stranger things and evil dead rise is

HEAVY SPOILER WARNING FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE NOT SEEN “EVIL DEAD RISE” !!!

So the basic premise of the movie (not counting the beginning with that blonde girl and her boyfriend) is about Beth, and she’s visiting her older sister Ellie and her three kids, two daughters named Cassie and Bridget, and her son Danny. Then the mom Ellie gets possessed and then kills/possesses Bridget and Danny, creating the evil dead ig, (I’ve never actually watched any of these movies before so I don’t know how the whole thing works lol)

First of all, the producers of the movie are the same who produce stranger things so that’s one thing

Second of all, I definitely think that the similarity is going to be something between Karen Wheeler and Ellie. I’ve seen theories about something with Joyce and hurting Jonathan or will, but I really don’t think it’s about her. Because of the three kids, two girls one boy.

We already know that the creels and the wheelers are connected somehow (Nancy getting the message, Karen’s poster despite her having the least screen time of any season she’s been in, being at the creek house in her poster, mikes parallels to Henry/vecna/one, etc) and that there’s also a theory that Alice creel is Karen wheeler. But I disagree with that theory. I saw someone mention this but what if Karen was the creeks third child. Based on Henry’s age in the flashbacks (12) and victor leaving for the war thirteen years ago, it’s likely he was the result of an affair.

And based on the wheelers having three kids as well, and Karen also (almost) cheating on her husband, it makes sense that Henry could also have a younger sister that resulted from the affair.

This is a personal theory based on the rule of genetics, not saying it’s true and I don’t have much evidence, but I think it’s possible that mike holly or both could have also been the result of an affair. Since mike has black hair and holly has blonde, but Nancy ted and Karen all have brown. It’s theoretically possible if their grandparents have blonde or black hair as well, but we haven’t seen any of their grandparents and it’s unlikely that two kids would get the recessive genes. But again that’s just food for thought.

But imagine that Henry and Karen were twins or something, bc we know that both would be roughly in their 40’s, and Karen would be the younger twin to make it fit. And then Alice creel could’ve given Karen away to someone, probably to a friend so victor wouldn’t know that she had an affair, or at least had 2 kids from the affair. It didn’t seem like he really knew about Henry in the first place though assuming he was a result of the affair.

And Henry having powers means that he probably got it from his real biological dad, which could mean Karen could possibly have powers too. Or could explain the mike having powers theory, which I wholeheartedly believe in btw.

So I definitely think that Alice and Karen are related, and I think it’s possible that Alice may be alive too, I have no evidence for that but it’s a cool idea as well. That could also go hand in hand with evil dead rise, as Beth and Ellie are sisters who see each other after a long time.

This is also 100% foreshadowing Karen getting possessed and possibly hurting her kids, like in Nancy’s vision (mom mike her and holly dying) I think that was blatantly telling us what was happening in season 5

PSA this might not be correct and I might also not have correct info bc I’m going off of memory. This is just my thoughts on the correlation between evil dead rise and stranger things 5 is.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #evil dead rises #nancy wheeler #karen wheeler #byler

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wench-and-jezebel · 1 year

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NCIS Reaction: Minimum Security

Wench (@scripted-downfall) reacts. At a later time period, and without having seen Wench’s reaction, Jezebel (@typicalopposite) reacts. Comparisons may be made as a result.

“If my old man finds out I’ve been biking with you, he’ll kill us both” “I’ll get you a ride.” Sounds like they might not just have been biking, if’n ya know what I mean.

[“Don’t get your thong in a twist”]

“What if he doesn’t stop?” “Oh, he’ll stop.” Buddy, I’m not sure I’d be so certain about that

Ohhhhh, the poor bike :((((

I understand him being pissed about the bike, for real.

That doesn’t change the fact that the guy’s already dead, I bet y- [Aghhhhh’ ☠️☠️☠️ Well he ain’t gonna be wishing shit lol] WHAT DID I SAY!!! (Should I start keeping a prediction counter? I think I should. Prediction Success: 1)

[Aight imma say it. Gibbs is handsome. There I said it. Add it to my weird list] I don't get this one, but that's not much of a surprise to me these days alksdjf [Idk it’s his smile. Kinda Tom cruise-y but 🤷🏻‍♀️]

I love the sections of the intro belonging to Tony and Abby. His lil wave? Her lil jump? So cute.

Blegh. BLEGHHHH. “RUN THE GUT FOR ME.” BLEH.

Ducky’s assistant’s name is Gerald, btw.

If not gallbladder stones, then… Diamond smuggler?

“They’re stones, doc.” Diamonds looking possible.

Oh, come on!!! EMERALDS????

[Emeralds. Well shit]

I’m so annoyed now. I think diamonds should count. The point was there; “gemstones” was the correct answer. I just didn’t get the exact gem right. Hmph. Now I’m unhappy. You know what?! I got the gemstone part right, so. (Prediction Success: 1.5)

I also got the smuggling part right, so… (Prediction Success: 2.5)

[God I’m glad Tony brought his hair back forward. The slicked back wasn’t it.] Agree.

Tony being linguistically pedantic makes me happy; I relate

TONY BEING SO HAPPY ABOUT GOING TO CUBA MAKES ME SO HAPPY TOO!!! HIS CACKLE?!!?! MY BELOVED. [Tony is so happy] (Same Brain Cell — SBC — Count: 1)

[Sir how many times you gonna swap which way you’re wrapping that cord]

Oof, NCIS agent is involved.

“The women I date think the smell of sawdust is sexy. That’s probably why I don’t date many women.” Gibbs. Ma’am. Excuse you. Sawdust is amazing. The smell is awesome. I would not date Gibbs, but the sawdust is not the issue.

All of these characters spilling Gibbs’ coffee… damn, what a waste.

“The Navy’s giving us a priority ride today.” TONY FINALLY GETS HIS PRIVATE JET RIDE! He looks so disbelieving; he’s adorable.

Oh. Okay, apparently it’s not a private jet ride, and is very uncomfortable, but still.

OH. Apparently it is a private jet ride. HAH!

Dude, this looks like the Criminal Minds jet. [It looks like the criminal minds plane] (SBC Count: 2)

Gibbs bemoaning the comfortable seating because it’s not uncomfortable; madam, calm yourself. A little comfort will not harm you.

Poor Tony, keeps getting his hopes up about the trip, only to have them dashed. Then again, the last times this happened, things were then better than he expected, so maybe he’ll get his horseback riding et al. after all!

Okay, I suppose I should have said: Oof, NCIS agent might be involved.

NO BUT TONY PULLING UP THE AIRPLANE STATS ON THE TOUCHSCREEN IS SO RELATABLE; I DO THAT ALL THE TIME. Whenever I fly (very rare occurrence), I always stare at the air temperature and watch it change alsdkjf. Gibbs actually looked vaguely annoyed-but-endeared, and I approve.

“Anthony DiNozzo” Whoa, we’re being fancy

[HES CHEESING SO HARD. i can’t even]

[I love her hair cut]

I know she said “there’s a map in it”, but my subtitles got cut off and it reads “there’s a man in it”

Y’all are really not being subtle, ngl.

“So, is there something going down that I should know about?” SEE?!?!?!

Wow, they were even more unsubtle than I thought.

[I half-remember this one]

That scene change was… abrupt.

I like Tony’s shirt.

Are Kate and Tony gonna bicker over room placement

I KNEW IT. (Prediction Success: 3.5)

Kate saying Tony’s sexist in past episodes and also being the character who pulls the “I’m a woman” excuse more often than anyone to get her way

[I love Abby]

Are they still bickering over room placement

Please tell me Gibbs takes the room they were fighting over

WHAT DID I SAY; HE REALLY WENT AND DID THAT! I’M ON A ROLL (Adding two becuase they were still bickering over room placement btw. Prediction Success: 5.5) [He took the bed with the bath I love it] (SBC Count: 3)

[Tony. You child. I love it]

IGUANAAAAAA. [Oh man, iguana] (SBC Count: 4)

Poor Tony aksdjflkasjdf. Pulling his gun on the iguana. [HALT]

To be fair, if I woke up with a strange lizard on my pillow, two inches away from sleep-clogged eyes, I might flip out too. Especially since it was hissing.

[The wink at the fact Tony sleeps in the nude, though. Kate! You dog!]

Kinda poor Benjamin, but also. He seems annoying.

I love Abby’s choker. And her gloves. (My brother bought my sister fingerless gloves and didn’t get me any and now I’m left mourning what could have been.). Abby’s are still cooler than my sister’s though.

I know this dude… OH. HE’S THE MUSEUM CURATOR IN THE MUMMY ISN’T HE

Tony being followed by the iguana saldkfj

[That iguana staring him down. He like what he saw in bed lol]

“Might want to keep that door shut; iguanas’ve been known to wander inside”. Yes. Tony knows.

[Tony’s whole damn looks change with his hairstyles]

I love the word “rapport”

“Did I say both of you?” “Well, you didn’t not say both of us.” “She’s kinda got a point there, boss.” The Kate-and-Tony-versus-Gibbs interaction I always knew we needed.

btw, Tony calling Gibbs “boss” is adorable

Ooh, Gibbs, why you having Kate stay, huh?

Did. Did they just randomly time-skip from him leaving to him coming back? I’m confused. [Did the video time skip… did it go from Tony leaving to Tony being back] (SBC Count: 5)

[Lord Tony’s gonna be out there dancing ☠️]

“Shane.” “Who’s Shane?” “Alan Ladd.” “Who’s Alan Ladd?” BUDDY

“Why aren’t you praying?” Don’t assume, Ka- WHAT DID I SAY. “I’m Presbyterian.”

IS HE ASKING ABOUT SHANE- I LOVE IT

“Oh, you young people don’t know what good movies are.” Speaking as a person on the younger end of the gamut while still having been raised on classics, I can attest that modern audiences have suffered in movie quality. In my opinion, at least.

“‘Splat’ isn’t violent?” Love you, Tony.

“Are you here to check me out?” Flirtatiously: “Define ‘checking out.’” I SEE YOU, TONY

Buddy’s not even subtle rn, is he? That was blatant flirtation.

[Tony. You blew that one]

I feel like pulling out Paula has some serious risks attached. Yeah, she might be dirty, but she might not be, and her rapport is being screwed up as a result.

Tony playing the desperate flirt at the bar over here.

[She came back]

“If you don’t like me, then why do you keep coming over here for refills.” “I like the game.”. “Me too.” ngl, really hoping she’s not corrupt because the banter is decent. And since McGee isn’t in this one, I’ve gotta take the repartee where I can get it.

BUDDY GETS HIS DANCEEEE. Tony, I’m so proud.

OOP- That spin was slick; Tony, I commend you

— — —

Stopping here because we’re at a scene change for the midpoint reaction!

I confess I’ve not much to say… It very much annoys me that this show has been very guilty-until-proven-innocent, without many instances where that changes; I mean, just from what springs to mind, there was the episode where the group was convinced the kid committed suicide; the naval folks were taking drugs; and now this, the ep where they’re all assuming that Cassidy is dirty from the fact that the vic had her (his coworker’s) male in her care. They always assume, even when it’s illogical to do so, that the obvious is factual. And I think that’s part of why I keep making predictions to the contrary, tbh. I want them to be wrong because I want them to face their illogic each time, instead of getting lucky. (But, I recognize, sometimes they’ll be right even if their logic isn’t sound, so I guess that’s fair.). Anyway, I want Cassidy to be innocent because of that, even if it doesn’t make sense given the story, but I’m not making that a prediction.

Mourning McGee’s absence; appreciating Kate and Tony, and Gibbs is not bad. On we go!

— — —

I’m cringing just thinking about swallowing those emeralds; they look sharp.

Okay, I’m sorry, but I’m vaguely suspicious of museum-curator-translater dude. Like, ever since I saw Shutter, where Ben’s lying to Jane about what the photo shaman dude was saying? I never trust that translators are adequately conveying the message. Call me cynical, but ‘tis true.

Tony dancing with Cassidy is so cute, I’m sorry.

Damn, Gibbs, be even more blunt about it why don’t you; that wasn’t harsh enough

Iffy acting, but I can’t tell if it’s actress or character

She really shouldn’t just hand over her apartment keys, I’m reasonably confident.

Tony looks vaguely conflicted about having to search Cassidy’s apartment

IGUANA. [IGUANA] (Damn, that one was blatant; SBC Count: 6)

“You were so excited coming to Cuba and riding on the jet” It’s true, Kate, he was adorably excited.

“You were the first woman I saw on my ‘endorphin high.’” “Yeah, well. We work together, Tony. It’s like a brother-sister thing.” Ma’am clearly has not seen any of the countless films, shows, fics, and irl interactions that feature in-office romances.

WAIT NO I’M AN IDIOT; SHE HAD AN IN-OFFICE ROMANCE?!?!?! IN THE PILOT?!!??! MA’AM, WDYM?!?!

“You might wanna take that chip of your shoulder” Oh, of course, no problem; of course it’s okay that you searched my mail and my apartment and so on. Not a difficulty at all.

“He blew his chance to get laid” Oh, come on, Cassidy, it’s not Tony’s fault. [He blew his chance to get laid. Poor Tony ☠️] (SBC Count: 7)

Oh, are we back to terrorists again? How. Unique. [TERRORISTTTTS] (Okay, that counts. SBC Count: 8)

Gibbs once again being vinegar-not-honey.

DAMN ABBY YOU’RE EXPENSING A LOT I SEE [Abby ☠️☠️ racking up a bill] (SBC Count: 9)

Tony’s hair is floppy.

Did he notice that she had “Escada” perfume?

I KNEW IT. (Prediction Success: 6.5)

“Horizontal salsa” alksdjf ["Horizontal salsa"] (SBC Count: 10)

I reallyyyyy want Cassidy to be good now that they’re giving Tony so much shit for caring about her. [Tony’s done got smitten over one dance. Buddy. 💕 *sigh*]

“Romance between agents, Kate. It never works.” Sir, shush. Even if you’re speaking from experience, that proves nothing. You’re not exactly easy to get along with. [And the romance between agents never working is coming off as an asshole rule/thought. BUT HE ISN'T WRONG AS FAR AS THE SHOW GOES]

I know my comment about the translations was about museum-curator-guy, but I maintain that it counts as half a prediction success since Sa’id was doing exactly that: not translating the whole conversation. (Prediction Success: 7)

Abby and Ducky, again; I love you both.

[Ducky’s mother!]

DUCKYYYYY. OMG, SIR!?!?!? YOU’RE HILARIOUS, YOU SCANDALOUS DOG! [You… dog? 👀] (SBC Count: 11)

[Easter eggs ☠️☠️]

“My cursor has moved across places that would make Tony blush.” Not Tony looking appraising!

IGUANA.

Protective!Tony is adorable.

Jeez, Gibbs, be harsher why don’t you; that wasn’t enough.

Cassidy, I stuck up for you, and now you be mean to Tony? To make yourself look good? Once again, these people need to stop tearing down their fellows as a means of increasing their own status. I’m actually getting annoyed again by this. [Tonyyyyyyy ☹️☹️☹️ “He bought my act.” I hateeee the sad tony eps. There’s a few. Be prepared.] (Does this count as SBC?)

Poor Tony. [Poor Tony. “She’s good.” Tony’s face. Ya I agree 💔💔] (That does. SBC Count: 12)

“Eyes always give you away” Poor Tony :( [Sass tony! Get her GET HER (Eyes always give ya away)] (SBC Count: 13)

[And she has the AUDACITY to look at him like a kicked puppy] Like I said. Don’t be mean to your allies to make yourself look good.

I. Do not trust this. I’m waiting for her to pull an Elizabeth-from-24 and not go along with the plan. Get pissed and try to kill him, or screw up the plan.

Tbh, I’m glad that didn’t happen. I didn’t appreciate it in 24 (only partly because it was Misha who got attacked as a result), and I wouldn’t have appreciated it here.

“There. Right there.” I didn’t realize this was Legally Blonde: the Musical.

I’m impressed he didn’t notice the wire yet.

Did I mention, yet? Poor Tony.

This situation was astoundingly mishandled, ngl. [Damn plan backfired]

[Well the back fire backfired also] Literally lakdsfj

Poor Tony :((( [Tonyyyyy] (I’m counting that one too. SBC Count: 14)

I appreciate Kate trying to help Tony.

Also, just saying, Tony is quite dashing in the suit.

TONY. HE FINALLY GOT TO SHOW OFF THE TECHNOLOGY TO SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATED IT!!! My goodness, he’s so adorable.

[Well his smile’s back at least.]

And that’s a wrap!

– – –

For the endpoint reaction… Be warned that I’m writing this with a killer headache (hah, pun unintended), so I’m not sure it’s 100% coherent, and it might be a bit short.

I’m glad that Cassidy wasn’t involved because, as I’ve said, they’ve got a bad habit of having snap judgements they make at the beginning be right all the way through to the end. Unfortunately, this was about the most logical snap judgement of the series thus far, so I’m also vaguely annoyed it wasn’t right. I’m deciding to wash my hands of it because it’s not like the characters will actually learn, but oh, well.

The writing was decent, I suppose? Highly, highly lost as to how the hell emerald smuggling turned into terrorists again, but… I’ve given up on trying to track it. I will say: there’s a slight possibility that reacting simultaneously to the ep is causing me not to notice stuff? Or to track the plot? But I doubt it. I’m still good with Dark Angel, after all, and following it is easy. But I guess I’ll just wait until we watch something else to decide; I legitimately cannot be sure whether the bad writing would be a little better if I were just watching it straight. (Pretty sure not though.)

Gibbs was an asshole again, but not enough that I’m currently fuming about it, I suppose. Kate was good; I liked her. Abby and Ducky continue to be awesome. McGee was notably missing, which is sad, but oh, well.

Summary of this ep: Tony deserved better.

Final thoughts as I type the end of this reaction: The chances I don't write something about this ep… Low.

#ncis #ncis reactions #reactions #episode reactions #leroy jethro gibbs #kate todd #tony dinozzo #abby scuito #donald mallard #s01e08 #minimum security #wench (pr)

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