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#an absolute menace at first but he gets better as time passes
t-u-i-t-c · 1 year
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The One You've Been Waiting For
↳ Gosei Sentai Dairanger - Kō - KibaRanger
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writethrough · 4 months
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 
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Billy Hargrove never scared you. 
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 
“Wanna say that again?” 
Your brows pulled in confusion. 
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 
I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 
He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 
“You’ll have mine.” 
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 
— 
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 
You took a shot in the dark. 
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 
His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 
But why? 
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 
Of course, that was what he took away. 
“Billy,” you warned playfully. 
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 
Names.  
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 
He leaned his elbows on the table. 
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 
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Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 
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goldsbitch · 14 days
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can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.
Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻
omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!
This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.
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Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.
You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.
It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.
Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.
"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.
"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.
"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.
"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.
"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."
You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.
The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.
"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.
Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.
//
It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.
In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.
"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.
"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.
"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.
"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.
You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.
"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.
It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.
"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.
Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.
Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."
You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.
Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.
You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.
You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.
"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.
"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."
Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.
"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.
"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.
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All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed
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Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader
Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, Homelander being a stalker, innocent reader, naive reader, Homelander being a basic menace, first time writing for this fandom, also experimenting a new writing style
Words: 5688
Summary: Along with the existence of Ryan, there was another secret being kept from Homelander that he manages to rip out of Vogelbaum's throat: he has a sister.
Part 2
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The house was quaint, way too fucking perfect in Homelander's opinion. Just like all the other mansions on the block. When he went back to Vogelbaum to find out the REAL truth about Becca, he'd forced Jonah to tell him anymore lies that were being kept from him. He hadn't anticipated there being a second secret: Homlander has a sister. Rare to be caught speechless, he leaves Vogelbaum's massive mansion. What else was Vought hiding from him? Not just Vought, but Madelyn as well. She'd lied to Homelander before. Now he'd take things into his own control.
From the slip of information Vogelbaum wheezed out , Homelander remembers the address. Stares at the numbers in front of the house that matches what Johan said. Architecture reeks of wealth. He didn't have to peek into the large bay windows to know that each corner dripped with elegance as was appropriate for a big time Vought executive. You were granted an entirely different life than what Homelander suffered from. Raised with loving parents who encouraged you to cultivate your powers in a positive way. Dinner was a sit down affair where everyone discussed highlights of the day. An authentic family unit. After discovering the truth of both you and Becca, he raided the archives for more information about her. Birth records, school reports, personal notes of progress from the adopted parents. Doted on. If only he had knowledge of you sooner. Homelander missed out on having a genuine bond to someone. A person he could truly call his own.
Superhuman eyes detect multiple people in the house. No worries. Once he presents himself, they won't deny him anything. Unless they want to end up like Stillwell and many others.
Insurmountable confidence has his gloved hand wrapping knuckles against the wood of the front door. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits. Scattering voices whisper amongst the other before feet lumber down several steps of stairs. A moment passes before the locks on the doors click open to reveal the stereotypcial dowdy housemaid. What a cliche.
Her eyes damn near pop out of her head, her mouth pulling into an ecstatic smile. Good, didn't look like there'd be much resistance. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before the maid pulls him in. "Oh she'll be SO delighted to see you Homlander! Please- wait here while I get her!" She frantically calls up the stairs, using the name he knew belonged to you, his sister. A sudden pang of warmth pleasantly grips him at the knowledge that you were already a fan of him. Maybe even admired Homelander. That makes him stand a bit taller.
At the top of the stairs, there you stood. You didn't believe in Diane when she told you the Homelander was at the front door. Even as you stare at him with your own striking cornflower blue eyes, your mind melts and you still don't believe what you see before you; that he's there in the flesh until his grin broadens. A brush stroke of awestruck sweeps across his expression.
Homelander found you absolutely perfect. And the smile that broke out on your own face took his breath away. An authentic smile of his own graces his facial muscles. You were a vision before him. Utter helplessness renders speech useless as he simply stares right into you. There must be a blush on your face, how could there not be one when he's staring so intently at you. He was bigger and better in real life. A wider range of emotions more available on his face opposed to the mask you saw him wear sometimes on screen. Stiff and uncomfortable. This one was even more appealing. His smile made his blue eyes crinkle with delight.
"Wow." You breathe out and feel Diane eagerly bounce behind you. "It's really you!" As fast as your mouth could go, you introduce yourself and Diane despite Homelander already knowing your name, birthdate and social security number. Whatever information he could get on you. Not even in his imagination could he truly conjure you up though.
Bringing him to the drawing room with a small tug on his gloved hands, you beam at him and say that your mom would be so excited to meet him. The light of your face makes his heart melt, something he long believed he didn't possess.
Seated already on a cream colored couch was your mom. She drops her cup and saucer, letting it shatter against the ground. Eyes incredulously wide but not with enthusiasm like you assume they'd be. Your grin drops a bit when you realize she's scared. Of what? Certainly not Homelander. Couldn't be. She'd been perfectly fine when you passed by the sitting room a few moments before heading upstairs.
Immediately the maid scrambles to clean up the mess, chirping apologies as she gathers the pieces up in her apron before scuttling away to dispose of the broken porcelain pieces.
"Homelander," your mom's voice came out as a squeak. "What a surprise to see you." She blinks out of nervousness.
"Thought I would treat Vought's wonderful executive crew with a surprise visit!" Businessman smile activated, Homelander goes on with some well rehearsed corporate bull crap spiel about how Vought appreciated all of their wonderful workers. He could practically lap at the fear emanating from your mom as she sat tightlipped against frilly decorative throw pillows. That could only mean she was in on the secret too and knew who you really were. Most importantly why he was there. She must have known that when he eventually found out, he would come.
Your mom's smile is frigid as her hand is clamped down on your forearm. "What an honor, thank you Homelander." You could tell she wanted him gone. With your own incredible olfactory receptors, you could smell her sweat too.
Hands behind his back in his usual resting stance, Homelander admits "I do have another reason for coming here too." Boots squeak as he takes just one simple step closer that has your mom's nails digging into you. It didn't hurt you but from her white knuckles she was definitely using all her strength. "A little bird told me you're special, like me."
Admittedly you beam with pride when he spoke of you being special like him. When your powers start to grow you were thrilled to find out that you had the exact powers that Homelander, the greatest superhero in the world!
Coyly and not wanting to come off as arrogant, you flutter your gaze down to your lap. "Well, I'm still nowhere near your league." Just to show off a little, you make your eyes sizzle red with heat vision that Homelander also possessed. His smile widens at your display of superability.
"How would you like to train at Vought with the Seven? You'll have the best of the best as your teachers."
He'd said it so easily you didn't take him seriously the first time. Blinking at him until it dawned on you. "R-Really?"
"Honey, this is all very sudden. Lets wait for your father to come home." She attempts to placate you but now all you can think about is the possibility of training alongside the rest of the Seven. Immediately you want to remind her that you were an adult and could take up this offer with or without your father's permission.
You don't have to because Homelander smoothly lies to her face. "Oh, no need to worry about that. Your husband already gave the go ahead!"
Her brows scrunch in a disbelieving frown. "He did?" She couldn't out right accuse the Homelander of lying.
"Of course! He was ecstatic at the opportunity his little girl would have." His tone is syrupy sweet. He couldn't show how annoyed he was with your mom. If he had informed the patriarch of your family, he doubts the man would have objected. Not to Homelander at least. They could go crying to Stand Edger for all he cared. Vought's CEO was just as powerless in stopping him once he has his mind set on something. Try as they might. Madelyn Stillwell came close to being able to manipulate him, but he'd melted her face off days prior so there was no use in Edger wielding her as a weapon.
Now you're the one clawing at your mom's arm. "Did you hear that! He said I could go! I gotta pack!" Hopping to your feet, in the blink of an eye you're dashing out of the living room and up the stairs before your mom could stutter out another word. It was just her and Homelander now with the occasional house help peeking into the living room to catch a glimpse of the glorious leader of the Seven. Visibly she swallows thickly, her eyes stare at Homelander with unrelenting fear.
"What? Did you really expect me not to find out?" Cheery smile not leaving his face, his voice reveals the sneer that he so wished to deliver to her. As it was he was keeping his voice down in case you had superhearing like he did.
The rims of her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She had to be the same age Madelyn was before he killed her. "I-I thought we had more time. Please don't take her. Please. You can come see her as much as you want. You have that right as her b-brother. But please- leave her with us." Practically gasping as she keeps her panic in control. Lines around her lips tremble. Homelander takes in her pathetic form.
"Tell me, do you love her?"
That makes her tears roll freely down her face. "I do. We do. She's a good girl. S-She wants to be a superhero, wants to protect people and use her powers for good. Please don't take her!"
Homelander snaps. "Quit your fucking blubbering."
Her mouth instantly zips shut, knowing what he did to Stillwell. Her husband had warned her early on about the real Homelander. He wasn't the perfect hero that the media painted him as. Even if you were upstairs, he wouldn't hesitate to come back and kill her. He's paused for a moment, listening to the pitter patter of your feet above. Happy that you were still busy and not paying attention to what was going on downstairs.
False saccharine face goes back up. "There's no reason for tears. You've done your job. Said so yourself that she's a good girl. She's a young adult though and doesn't need her mommy and daddy poking around in her business. Not to mention the big secret you and your husband are keeping from her."
Leaning over her, he sinisterly utters under his breath "She's coming with me. Now put a smile on your face and fucking wipe your goddamn eyes. You look disgusting. She's coming down the stairs."
Easily toting a giant backpack and two overstuffed duffle bags, you stride back into the living room. To Homelander's surprise, another duffle bag was floating behind you. Apparently you had telekinesis too. Your smile is so big that it was starting to hurt your face. This was the chance of a lifetime. You'd been getting bored stuck at home as of late.
Eagerly clenching the straps of your two duffle bags in your hands, you beam expectantly at your mom. "Sorry about dad not being here to see me off, but I'll see him around at Vought!" You go in to hug your stunned mom and promise to call her when you arrive at the tower.
Homelander is tickled pink by your enthusiasm and haul your bags out to the front porch. "Can you fly?"
You grin deviously and give your mom one last wave goodbye. Homelander takes the duffles out of your hands even though you were fully capable of carrying possibly even more luggage. What a gentleman. Something guys your age weren't.
He takes off first into the sky with you following, hot on his tail.
Never had you experienced this level of elation. You have someone to fly with! The feeling was the same for Homelander. He'd boost his speed and you caught up with him in seconds. Laughing the entire time. It makes him giddy and laughs along with you.
Twin flames.
Finally, Homelander was getting what he's wanted since he was a young boy.
You were a streak of gold as you zoom past him cheekily. For a moment he forgets that you're his sister. He's overwhelmed by the sudden warming in his chest that bleeds to his face as he watches you zip in the open air with your arms wide open to embrace the wind itself. To him you were beautiful in every single way. A perfect specimen. An outright desirous scream in his head confounds him. He didn't have a regular up bringing, but Homelander knew that this was not a common reaction to have with blood kin.
Expertly he tucks that thought away. He'd examine it later. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up with you.
He had to take the lead anyway since he was the only one who could find Vought Tower so high up in the sky and miles away. Below you, the city looks like a toy replica by how small it was as you follow Homelander's lead in the sky. You'd never seen anything quite like it. Where you'd lived was a quiet suburb. You didn't go to a public or private school but taught at home by the best instructors your parents could buy. They tend to keep you away from big cities, claiming your buddening powers as a liability if something bad were to happen. When they brought up things like that, it made you scared to even try using them. But watching Homelander's Vought produced movies gave you the courage to start playing with your abilities and push your limits; even if it meant that you subsequently knocked down the large tree in your backyard and landing it on the side of the house. That was the first time your dad had ever yelled at you.
From seeing it on the news many times, you notice the tall, silver column as Vought Tower. Homelander slows down as you had been too busy with sight seeing, but he didn't mind. He thought you were adorable, basically a little kid at Voughtland. So easily excited about everything new. That just reaffirms his suspicion that your parents had locked you up in an oppressive cage. Just like Becca did with Ryan. Really, Homelander was doing you a favor by setting you free and into his secure and guiding hands.
Both of you easily land on the roof of the tower, a door at the ready for them to enter the structure itself. You gaze out from the roof, enjoying the noise of the city and the pure energy that buzzed through it. That morning seemed so long ago. A basic start to your day, just like any other morning for the boring, safe life your parents smothered you with.
Your excitement makes your features glow, even blinding Homelander who couldn't keep his eyes off of you. You were utterly intriguing to him. An entirely different species. Both of you were so much alike yet due to your upbringing near solar opposites at the same time. Finally when you turn away from observing gaze and look to Homelander, he opens the door for you. In more ways than one. He takes you from the rooftop and into the thrum of the tower. You can't help staring at everything you walk by. All the while he goes on to promise you a room as soon as he could find-
"Ashley! There you are!" He calls out to a jumpy red head who looks both relieved and incredibly stressed out once she spots you next to him. Her lips smack against one another, flailing for useful words, her eyes round and staring at you. "We need to get a room set up for our new friend here." Homelander introduces you and you hold out a hand for Ashley to shake. Fumbling with her tablet, a sweaty hand weakly reaches out for a fast shake.
"Nice to meet you. Homelander, can I have a word with you?" Ashley hesitantly asks, forcing a fake smile and much like your mom had Ashley reeked of fear.
Homelander quickly catches your dampening smile and puts a hand on your shoulder to steer you past her. "Not now, Ashley. I have to show her around the rest of the tower. Especially the Seven's very own conference room." That brings the enthusiasm back onto your lips. While he can still hear Ashley's frantic voice trying to get him to come back he could care less. Besides, you didn't appear too affected by bumping into her, the prospect of seeing the Seven's personal conference room had you instantly forgetting the nervous red head.
A large window that spans from wall to wall has the perfect picture of the metropolis skyline in its massive frame. This felt like a perspective only the elite were privlidged enough to gaze from.
Focal point of the room though was the massive circular table, meticulously crafted with dark marble and metal. A symbol of the Seven's authority. It gleams liquid night. At the head of the table was one lone chair, away from the others. Homelander's chair. This is where he got to work every day with the greatest superheroes the country has to offer.
Watching you glide to his chair, Homelander smirks to himself. You catch it when you glance up at him with brilliant moon eyes. The brightness from the world outside casts a brilliant light around you. "I can't believe I'm in Homelander's seat!"
He chuckles and slowly trails over to you. His gloved fingers trail along the tops of the other chairs in a near gentle caress. "It suits you."
You avert your gaze from those fingers, suddenly feeling a flush crawl up your neck. "Is this really happening?" You incredulously peer at him. Your own hands glide along the table's surface. "This morning I was eating breakfast in our dining room, now I'm here with the greatest hero of all time." Brows scrunch together. Besides having powers, your life had been mundane. You'd never even been to Vought Tower where your dad had worked for a good thirty years. Things like this don't happen in a span of four hours. Insane. And it was all thanks to Homelander who saw potential in you.
"You'll get used to it. It's a lot at first." He acknowledged. Homelander wonders if Ashely has procured a room for you yet and has half the mind to call her until the conference room doors open. You throw yourself out of his chair, afraid how it would be perceived by his colleagues. Gasping when you find out it's Starlight and Queen Maeve. They appeared to be in a deep conversation. But once they register you and Homelander, whatever they'd been discussing becomes secondary. How could it not when you had similar characteristics with the man standing next to you. You weren't anyone they've met before. Nor were you a sponsoring celebrity or executive. So what were you doing there all of places?
"Impeccable timing!" He merely claps his hands together. "The two most perfect heroes to welcome you to the Tower." Starlight can't resist lookng at you with concern, wondering if you were in distress despite the smile plastered on your face. When there's no obvious sign of you being uncomfortable, Starlight strains to conjure the semblance of an easy going smile. Homelander told them that you were their new hero-in-training. Neither Queen Maeve or Starlight have ever heard of this position, it hadn't existed but once it leaves their leader's mouth, it might as well have been law. Maeve knew to tread carefully with her words.
Her own mask was honed after years of dealing with his psychopathy and Maeve dawned it on herself with ease. "Wonderful news." She turns to you, statuesque and beautiful. "Welcome. If Homelander speaks so highly of you, then I'm sure you'll find your footing around here."
"I'm excited to learn from both of you and I'll make sure not to get in the way." You promise which cracks a sympathetic smile from Starlight. From your appearance, Starlight deduces that you had to be a year or two younger than her and understood how it felt to abruptly be thrust into the life of the Seven.
Homelander clears his throat and offers you his arm. "Lets go see if Ashley's got that room ready for you. I'm sure you want to settle down."
Before leaving, Homelander sends both women a pointed glare over his shoulder as the doors close behind his red, white and blue cape.
Stunned, Starlight turns to Maeve knowing nothing good would come of this new installment of Vought. Neither had seen nor heard of you. You seemed relatively innocent and ignorant of the danger you were in so close to Homelander.
Maeve shrugs, indifference cloaking how she really felt. "Not our problem."
Starlight's eyes round in disbelief. "Sounds like its going to be a problem sooner or later. Something's up. He doesn't just show interest in random strangers. Even if they're supes too."
Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Maeve is aware of the terrible possibility that this could all end badly for you. Having Homelander's attention did more harm than good. If they wanted any chance of intervening, they'd have to be extremely careful. Homelander may be an egotistical man, but he wasn't a dumb man. He'd catch on immediately if either Starlight or Maeve slip in their investigation toward who you are.
"All we can do is keep an eye out for her and guide her." Maeve murmurs, worried that Homelander may still be listening. Such was the paranoia that she'd developed from all the years they worked together. It was upsetting that her relationship with HOmelander outlasts any other, even Elena. They'd known one another for years. The manner that Homelander hovered around you though was disconcerting. If intervention were needed, there was no way Homelander would let anyone near you.
Starlight grits down on her back molars as she moves around Maeve and out of the conference room. But she couldn't just keep an eye on you. Her feet take her to Ashley's office although her brain was reminding her that the VP of Hero Management would most likely not be there.
After finally hounding down Ashley, you're shown your new room in Vought with a promise from Homelander that you could redecorate it all if you like. All the while it's impossible to ignore the heavy smell of fear from her.
Homelander couldn't pretend not to notice either as his mouth, still holding onto a smile, becomes tight with force. "Thank you Ashley, that will be all."
For not being a supe, she gave A-Train a run for his money as Ashley booked it out of there in the blink of an eye.
"I'll make sure everything else is taken care of and given to you as soon as possible. For now though, relax. I'll put together a team dinner tonight so you can meet everyone else." The face he'd had with Ashley was washed away now replaced with genuine plesantaness.
You examine what was more than a simple room, this was a penthouse apartment. Bigger than the room you had back home with actual marble columns that stand proudly from floor to ceiling. A similar expansive window like that of the conference room greets the city outside with a glittery afternoon effect. Gold and amber filter the sky. Lost in the gleam of it all, you float around; eyes big in wonder. You lived in luxury before, but now your surroundings were damn near extravagant. This was an entire level up from your usual lifestyle.
Barely managing to breathe out an 'okay', you hear the front door open then close.
Still reeling, you place your backpack along with your other luggage at the foyer and let yourself wander. The call to your mom could wait. This moment was for you. You felt seen.
You would be a hero like Homelander. Maybe never as great as him, but some day you could achieve his caliber. This was really happening.
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Homelander never imagined his day would have turned into something like this either. His miles hasn't left since leaving your room as he strolls through the halls to make sure your paperwork was properly handled. He felt like he was flying his entire way to the elevators yet his feet were firmly planted on the ground. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. So much he wanted to talk about.
But. . .
He couldn't let you know about the tie you had to him. More than you sharing powers. Blood connected the both of you. The only person (besides Ryan) who could boast that. It was something sacred to him. Of course nothing could remain pure when it came to Homelander. Because you were his sister that meant you were just as perfect as he was. Even more so since you had the added skill of telekinesis. The only person alive truly worthy of being with him. Thinking about his future had butterflies flapping their paper thin wings along the inside of his stomach. To take you the way he desired, Homelander had to make sure no one knew of your biological relationship. Public opinion would demonize him were the fact to get out. Initially he thought of keeping you locked up, but that was an unlikely scenario which would lead to you fighting against him. He wants you to be pliant and willing. That required trust to be developed along with Homelander worming his way into your brain and heart.
Hopefully the look he shot Starlight and Maeve on his way out was enough to prevent either of them in snooping around for information about you. This was his business that they should not meddle in. Particularly Starlight's intentions bothered him. She was a snake in the grass, proven it by aligning herself with Hughie and the rest of the Boys. He saw her being a problem in the future. That concerned look she'd had when her eyes fell upon you spelled trouble brewing.
The pep in his step dwindles thinking of it, jaw tightening. If Starlight found out you were siblings, it would put a wrench in the plans he was formulating. His long desired family unit was within reach. He could practically hear Ryan's laughter, see you chasing after the young boy as if he were your very own. How pretty you would look in summer clothes, waiting for Homelander to come home. The life of his dreams. The life Vought fabricated for his backstory could so easily become reality. He'd just been missing two important pieces. They were essential to this new life Homelander wished for.
There were no qualms over the idea of killing Starlight. Problems would be for Vought trying to cover it up. Not to mention the situation that would inevitably arise with Billy Butcher, especially now that he knew his wife was alive and raising the supe's son. Another encounter with him lay in wait. A headache he wasn't looking forward to dealing with. He just wanted to focus on you and Ryan.
Arriving at the gold plated elevator doors, he presses down on the button that would take him to floor 82, Mr. Edgar's floor. That was Mr. Edgar's kingdom which he ruled with an iron fist and ruthless attitude. When the two doors slide open, Ashley jumps back clearly startled by yet again running into him.
"I-I trust the room is to her liking?" Ashley's mouth twitches and morphs into what she must have thought passed off as a smile.
He stalks into the elevator forcing Ashley to seek refuge in the further most corner. Darkling tutting, Homelander waits for the doors to close before addressing the vice president who was charged with dealing with these self entitled heroes. "You're going to have to try a lot harder at pretending you're not scared. You stink of fear and if I can smell it, so could she."
Paling, her head rapidly nods in complete understanding all the while trying to relax her facial muscles into neutrality as well as taking a few deep breaths. If she didn't fix herself immediately. . . it brought back memories of Blindspot.
For a few seconds he watches her, specifically listening to her erratic heartbeat. At least she listened and didn't need to be told twice. Through her own sheer will, Ashley manages to calm herself enough to lower her pulse, not the easiest thing when her number one stressor was stuck in an elevator with her.
She reaches a hand up to her red hair and anxiously curls a lock of it around her finger instead, her only outlet that she'd be allowed.
"Good. You'll be coming with me to see Mr. Edgar." Homelander turns his blue eyes back up to the lit up floor numbers that were beginning to descend. With his attention away from her, Ashley stealthily rips out a few strands of her hair. The pain was soothing, aiding in faking her calm.
The air was suffocating with just the two of them. She thinks back to the phone call she'd received an hour before you and Homelander had arrived at the Tower. Stan Edgar personally warned her of what Homelander was doing. That he'd discovered not only a son but a sister too. Edgar, in the most polite way possible, instructed her not to get involved and just do whatever he told her to do. And absolutely no asking questions about you. Homelander was already pissed about so much being kept from him, best not to antagonize him further. Keeping him happy was top priority.
Unaware of the shit show that was unraveling, worker bees greet them with a smile once they arrive on the 82nd floor. A few even wave at Ashley.
Stan Edgar saw them coming the moment they stepped out of the elevator. Already he was on his feet and moving around his desk to greet them as his office door is opened. Homelander's hand poised at the back of Ashley's neck, he nudges her inside. Homelander motions for both of them to sit down as if it were his own office. His gaze doesn't waver, staring down an equally defiant Edgar. A normal human but he never squirmed in front of Homelander's penetrating stare. He'd commend the older man for his bravery. If only Ashley would take notes. She needed a better poker face if she's to make it in Vought Industries.
"You know why I'm here."
"Your sister and Ryan." Verifies Edgar. He'd prefer to stand but inch by inch sank himself down onto the cushion of his desk chair.
"Now, while Ryan may be under Becca's care, my sister is an adult and wishes to stay here. Train to be an elite hero. Like me. However," neither like the way he breathed out that single word "no one can know that we're related. People will scream nepotism and claim she's getting special treatment."
His reasoning was plausible but. . .
From a promotional point of view, a sibling duo would be a hit like the TNT Twins. The public would eat it up and show even more support for Vought in the polls.
"Oh, and her parents need to sign one of those NDA things. Can't have them flapping their mouth either." Tacking on as an after thought. You'd forget them soon enough. He'd just have to keep them away from you for the time being. They hovered over her too much for his liking. From the corner of his eye, he caught a quiver in Ashley's mask.
About to reprimand her, Edgar clears his throat and leans forward to allow his elbows to rest on the desk's surface." I understand. It will be done. But you do realize how difficult it would be to keep it under wraps considering the outstanding similarities. The powers, your eyes. People will start to ask questions."
"Let them ask away. As long as Vought says she's not my sister, then she's not my sister."
Why was he so intent on covering this one particular fact? Nepotism surely could explain it. Homelander's insistence of it concerns Edgar and Ashley who felt like he was planning something more nefarious for you. He was capable of any horrendous acts they could conjure. They were just as helpless when it came to him. Unable to defy his orders unless they desired him to burn holes into their faces as he did to Madelyn.
All of his whims taken care of, Homelander leaves them to start working on the welcome dinner with you and the rest of the Seven. He wants to show you off. He'd make sure you never wanted to leave him. Ensure that you continue to see him as all powerful and benevolent. The looks of admiration you'd shot him went straight to his head as well as other regions that were out of his control. Clear that you idolized America's favorite hero. Your parents raised you to believe that Vought was a company that cared about helping the public and that their heroes were there to protect and serve the general masses. No doubt in your mind that they were the good guys and the stuff on the media was simply baseless slander. What child would want to discover that their daddy was actually a bad guy working for the power hungry company and that supes were not in fact a gift from god. They were manmade. That knowledge would ruin your world.
Homelander would not allow that. You were his to protect now. His to blind and deafen to the world around them.
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bloofinntoona · 1 year
Text
Baby's Breath
Word Count: 1.4k
Themes: Fluff, a little bit of angst? Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (Reader's house can be up to you!)
Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) You're asking Sebastian Sallow who will he take to the Yule Ball.
Author's Note: So... This is my first fanfic(after a while). I played Hogwarts Legacy and I love Sebastian's questline and his story. I'd thought I wrote a little bit of a story after the main HL story. Based on the marriage question???? scene from the first Avatar movie.
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A year has passed since the massive battle with Ranrok, as well as the murder of Solomon Sallow. You, Anne, and Ominis had decided to not turn Sebastian in. The weight of killing his own family member was tormenting enough for the teen, there was absolutely no need of putting him behind bars at Azkaban. Despite the darkness that has been brewing inside Sebastian, his friends still have much love for him. Especially you.
You didn't think much of it at first. Why, Sebastian Sallow was notorious for being the Slytherin bad boy. Dodging detentions here and there, and persistently asking his schoolmates to duel in his not-so-unsanctioned-secret-dueling club. One would think that this boy was a menace. But you know that he was more than that. Sebastian was smart, curious, relentless, outgoing, kind, cunning, and obviously as ambitious as a Slytherin could be. As if the boy couldn't be more perfect, he has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen. You particularly noticed the tiny freckles that adorned his face — you swear you could see constellations if you connected the dots.
Getting back to your relationship before the incidents was not easy. Ominis and Anne took their time to make small talk and joke around with Sebastian. You, on the other hand, shared a kinship. You also wielded the unforgivable curses with him. You often found yourself between Sebastian's arms, finding consolation from the responsibilities of being the so-called Hogwarts Hero who possessed the Ancient Magic. There was also a time when Sebastian broke down in your arms, feeling guilty for being too absored in the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, time is the best healer as you both were able to cope and live somewhat normally in school.
After all that you both have been through, there was never a point where you confessed to each other. Yes, you hugged and comforted each other. You swore you felt him kissed your forehead once. Perhaps it's the archaic rule of courting in the 19th century that your guardians had been drilling into your brain. Or perhaps you're just too scared of being rejected and loosing the closest friend in your life.
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You shifted your feet back and forth, hearing the snow rustling underneath your platform shoes. Merlin's beard, you thought, where in the world is Sebastian? Saying that it's freezing in Hogsmeade is an understatement. The wind blew past your ears as you cursed yourself for putting your hair in an updo today. You jumped as you felt hands tickled your sides, "Hey!" you shouted, turning around. Sebastian grinned, "Sorry, 'had to pick up something earlier." He patted your head, which prompted a red blush spreading across your face. "Shall we?" He offered his hand as you head into The Three Broomsticks. Nothing like a full glass of Butterbeer can make you feel better, especially with Sebastian as your company. This is how you both liked to spend the weekends after a tedious week full of classes and homework. The outing almost ended with You and Sebastian racing on the broom, cruising over the lake until you both reached the rickety docks in Lower Hogsfield, looking over the school.
"That was a good race. Obviously, I was here first." The boy puffed his chest.
You rolled your eyes, "Sure, consider yourself lucky that we're alone 'cause I literally landed first!"
Sebastian and you playfully bantered, pushing each others' broom. He accidentally pushed a bit too hard which sent you flying back. "Oop-!" you yelped as you felt his swift hands caught your back and pulled you close to him. Too close. You felt your chest pressed against Sebastian. Godrick's Heart, did he grow taller? You also swore he was not this strong and muscular before. Puberty years did work wonders for teen boys. Feeling his warm breath against your face, you started to panic and gently pushed him away. You swore you could see a hint of disappointment in his face.
"So," you cleared your throat, "The Yule ball is coming soon. I, uh, heard that you're supposed to look for your own date." You paced around the dock, afraid to look at Sebastian. "Have you thought about who you're going to ask?" You bitterly questioned him. A part of you was a bit disappointed that Sebastian didn't ask you when the ball was announced. You'd expect him to take you, even as friends. The thoughts of Sebastian secretly having a crush without telling you made your guts churn. It's not like other boys haven't asked either, Garreth Weasley was very sweet, offering an enhanced (his words) Wiggenweld potion warped in a bow with an invitation to the ball. You were flattered, but you thought there wasn't a point of going without the boy you actually had a crush on.
"I thought about it." Sebastian calmly said, using his wand to cast Levioso, levitating a rock and flung it to the lake.
"Oh..." you gulped. "May I know who?" You wanted to slap yourself for asking, why would you want to hear answers that will hurt? You still have your back facing Sebastian.
"Guess!" and there's Sebastian Sallow, never making it easy for you.
You used your wand to flung some pebbles into the water. "Well, Imelda Reyes is an amazing flyer. I bet you learned a flying trick or two from her," You smiled bitterly, "Plus, you both are in the same house, so I bet you're close with her?"
You could hear his laugh. "No way, I'm not keen on being ridiculed by Imelda." Sebastian flung more rocks into the water.
"I guess Natty is a good option too. She's brilliant, probably the kindest person I've ever met-"
"What about me?" Sebastian joked, "I'm also kind."
You rolled your eyes. "Also she has a professor as a parent, like you."
"It's not Natty, too... Gryffindor for me," He shook his head, "Don't get me wrong, Natty's a good friend. But she's just a friend for me."
"What about Poppy? She's the cutest girl in school. I think her passion for the beasts is amazing too." You chimed.
Sebastian shook his head again. "Nope, not her."
You raked your brain, thinking about the rest of your schoolmates. You didn't even notice Sebastian's footsteps inching closer to you.
"Ominis?" you blurted out, now facing Sebastian. Hearing your question, he made a face and blurted out an explosive laugh. "I mean I would, but he probably would kill me first," he wiped a tear from his eyes, "no, not my dear friend Ominis Gaunt."
"I give up!" You held up your hands, "I don't know who you have in mind."
Sebastian lets out a sigh. "There is this girl," he stood close to you, "She is beautiful, brave, and possesses an ability like no other. She's always eager to beat me in duels and learn new things. This girl is always there for me, through thick and thin. Even though I was a sodding disappointment of a mate, she still greets me with a warm smile. I don't think I could be here right now without her."
Your breath hitched, feeling warmth crept around your face. Sebastian's face is turning red as well. He took your hands in his, caressing your fingers softly. You can feel your body heating up despite the cold air. "I'm glad you came to Hogwarts. Having you in my life was the best present the universe gave me." He reached inside his pocket and presented you with a corsage decorated with baby's breath and baby blue ribbon. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow. But since we're having this conversation..." He smiled, face red as ever, "Will you go to the ball with me-"
Sebastian didn't get to finish his sentence before you crashed your lips against him. You could feel electricity sparked all over your body, butterflies flying all over your stomach. It seemed like forever, feeling his soft lips molded with yours. His hands rested on your waist, gently pulling you closer. You snaked your hands around his neck, entangling your fingers in his brown locks.
You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. "I'd take that as a yes?" Sebastian whispered. You nod, couldn't get a word out of your mouth. He smiled, peppering small kisses on your cheeks before capturing your lips for another kiss.
He pulled back, took your hand, and wrapped the corsage around your wrist. "You know, I had to do a bunch of tasks to have Professor Garlick help me grow this flower." He chuckles, admiring how the flowers looked on you.
"Sebastian.. I-" You grinned widely, "Thank you. I would love to go to the ball with you." You couldn't help but to wrap your arms around him again. "Why baby's breath?"
"Well, darling, they said it's the symbol of everlasting love."
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bbydeathclaw · 5 months
Text
Petulance
pairing: silco x fem!reader (nsfw)
AO3
summary: Silco sends you away to try to get some work done and you decide to be a horrendous little shit about it.
tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), good ol' mating press, teasing, bratty reader, simp silco
word count: 5.4k
adorably aesthetic mdni banner by @cafekitsune
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a/n: hello! this is my first time writing in a looong while almost 10 years to be exact please don't look at me. but I had to get back into it with this shamelessly self indulgent fic of my favorite brooding king pin. I hope you enjoy!
Silco had thought it a bit odd at first, the ease with which you’d taken your leave from his office tonight. Ordinarily when he’d attempt to send you away in favor of getting his paperwork done in a more timely manner, you’d put up some form of sulky little protest.
An overemphasized pout coupled with a look of feigned sadness, eyebrows furrowed together when you’d offer to assist him with said work. Your reason being that it would ‘probably get done faster’ between the two of you. 
A lie, and a blatant one at that. You were, on all counts, absolutely shit at keeping your focus on any tasks he’d try to give you. You knew it. He most certainly knew it. Truly he’d wonder why you’d even bother offering at all if you just spent most of the time trying to distract him anyway. 
Still, he can’t say he isn’t amused by your actions. He finds these juvenile acts of yours terribly endearing for the most part, and even starts to look forward to them, knowing full well that he'll give in to just about anything if you’d simply ask it of him. 
Which is why he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed when you don’t do any of this at all, and Silco starts to regret his idiotic suggestion entirely until you throw a cheeky smirk his way instead. 
“Alright, I think I’ll go bug Sevika for a bit.”
A single eyebrow quirk, followed by a low hum of approval. 
“I’m sure she’ll be positively thrilled by that,” he replies, suppressing a smirk of his own at the thought of his second in command being pestered by someone almost half her size. 
He’s still disheartened by your willingness to leave, but ultimately makes peace with it knowing that you’d more than likely return at some point. You give him a small wave with your fingers followed by a wink over your shoulder, and Silco doesn't hesitate to drag his gaze over your body shamelessly as it saunters out of his office.
About an hour passes, and the music coming from downstairs is just starting to pick up for the evening. You enter the room with a fluid sidestep, leaning back against the door once it closes behind you. His good brow raises slightly. “Back so soon?”
You don’t answer at first, instead making your way over to one of the tables in his office, like a cat quietly stalking about until something catches its interest. He watches you methodically as you settle for one of Jinx’s old trinkets that had been long discarded, carefully turning it over in your hand. “Sevika called me a menace.”
This time he makes no attempt to hide the subtle upturn from the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with her, my dear.”
“She seems pretty cranky tonight.” 
“Hm, surely through absolutely no fault of your own.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in what he can only assume is an attempt to stifle a giggle before turning to face him with an adorably giddy expression that makes his chest tighten. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
So innocent, as if you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Silco doesn’t answer you verbally, merely bringing his forehead to rest against his hand and lifting the piece of paper he’s holding in the air with the other. The sullen face you make doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you turn to put the gadget back down with an airy sigh.
“Well,” you drag the word out. “I guess I’d better let you get back to it.”  
“Yes, that would be nice,” he says in turn, though it comes off more teasing rather than the displeasure he’s trying to convey. 
You study his face for another beat or two before you finally respond. “Okay, if that’s really what you want.” It’s not. Not even in the slightest. “I’ll go see if Thieram needs any help at the bar.”
“My love, Theiram is more than capable of handling his responsibilities as a bartender alone. It’s why I hired him, in fact.” He pauses. “Have you perhaps considered staying up here and behaving yourself, rather than looking for more ways to wreak havoc amongst my employees?” 
For a moment Silco thinks that he may be tipping his hand too soon, fearing that you’ve caught on to the fact that he’s basically been doing fuck all except sitting here and waiting for you to come back to his office. His suspicion only rises with the way you’re tilting your head and downright beaming at him with ill-disguised glee, like you’d been reading his every thought. 
“If I stayed up here it certainly wouldn’t be to behave myself.”
The paper he’s holding makes an audible crunch sound, his hand crumpling the edge of it faintly in response to your suggestive remark. 
Before he has the chance to reply with some snarky comment, you’re already heading towards the door, making a show of swaying your hips and giving him another view of the delicious swell of your backside before you take your leave again. His chair makes an audible groan as he leans back against it and lets out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his hair and glancing down into his lap at the result of your seemingly endless torment.
Intolerable minx.
By the third time you make your way back up, only about half an hour has passed, and Silco’s all but given up on the prospects of getting any semblance of work done tonight. His thoughts being entirely permeated by you and the state you’d left him in. 
The Last Drop is in full swing now, and the liveliness of everything going on downstairs comes through the open door as you re-enter his office. However this time, he makes no effort to acknowledge your arrival, his chair now facing away from his desk, turned instead towards the large stained glass window that bathes him in a sickly, pale green light. All the noise from the club gets muffled when the door shuts once again, followed by the sound of purposeful footsteps making their way over to him.
“Welcome back,” he states flatly, trying to sound as disinterested as he can manage in his current predicament while he looks over his clipboard in a vain attempt at trying to salvage what was supposed to be a productive evening.
“Hello there, almighty Eye of Zaun,” you chime back with a playful lilt in your voice. “Did you miss me?”
Silco’s eyes tick upwards and stare blankly at the window straight ahead, actively suppressing the urge to let out another heavy sigh. You were going to be the death of him at this rate, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. How you managed to be both so insufferable and still so unbelievably charming he’ll never quite understand. Before he has the chance to turn his chair with an already fixed scowl, he hears a faint thud behind him, the distinct sound of glass meeting wood only slightly muted by a soft shuffling of papers. 
A few seconds pass before Silco finally spins around to face you, seeing that a tumbler has been set down right on top of the paperwork he had been ruminating over all night. He’s also greeted by the sight of you already sitting in a chair directly in front of his desk, grinning from ear to ear. His heart swells at the sight and his scowl gradually melts away, only to be replaced by something more along the lines of skepticism when he takes in your expression fully. 
Your smile is accompanied by what appears to be a look of pure satisfaction, though he has no clue as to why. His non-discolored eye narrows at you, like a parent trying to figure out what misdeed their child has committed behind their back. 
Silco regards you warily for another moment, taking in every minute detail of your face in hopes of detecting something that might give you away while he reaches for the glass set in front of him. Ice clinks against the sides as he swirls it around before bringing it to his lips, taking a long sip followed by a hum of appreciation. His eyes shoot back up to meet yours, and finds you now biting your lip while trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. 
You’re definitely up to something, that much he’s certain of now, and the fact that he still can’t figure out what it is causes his previously feigned discontent to turn into more of a bubbling frustration, having just about enough of whatever game you’re playing. A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he glances down at the drink now dangling from his fingertips, then back up to you. 
Silco knows you’ve taken in the brief look of suspicion on his face when you let out a laugh that, despite the visible displeasure he's exuding towards you, is still one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard.
“I didn’t poison you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you quip, clearly amused at the implication.
“At this point I would be grateful if you did.”
You laugh again, but it comes out more like a short exhale through your nose along with a relaxed grin, taking a sip of your own beverage, and Silco’s good eye narrows at you once again. 
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No.”
Silence.
“Then what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He practically glares at you for what feels like a considerable amount of time before it finally dawns on him that you haven’t left yet. 
“Did you need something darling? Or have you just come to find more ways to elicit whatever reaction you’ve been hoping for this evening?” Silco brings the tumbler to his mouth once more, letting it hover there momentarily in order to get the rest of his words out. “Because if the intended reaction was to see how far you can test my patience I can assure you-” 
Words die on his lips immediately when you make a move to stand, mismatched eyes shooting down to your waist to see what appears to be quite possibly the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you in, leaving so very little to the imagination.
He’s still holding the glass right up to his face while he watches you make your way around the only obstacle that separates the two of you before hopping onto one of the corners, your butt and thighs jiggling faintly when they make contact with the solid piece of furniture. “I just figured you could use a drink after such a long night of hard work. Is that so wrong?”
Silco tracks your movements with an almost predatory fixation, watching you lean back slightly to rest against your arms, crossing one leg over the other and he has to actively resist the urge to scoff. This thing is hardly covering anything, you’re essentially sitting there with your bare ass on his desk. The realization of that along with the sight of everything you’re showing has his cock hardening at an alarming rate.
You don’t seem to notice, or if you do you don’t say anything, eyebrows knitting together in a poorly disguised attempt at looking genuinely worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy to see me.” 
Silco sets the glass down onto his desk with a bit more force than intended, turning his chair to face all the way forward and bringing his mouth to rest against interlocked fingers. Any moment now he’s expecting you to hop right off that corner and make your way back downstairs, back to a place filled with depraved and perverted onlookers. 
Realistically he knows no harm would ever befall you while you were down in the Last Drop. All of his subordinates had been given clear instruction to keep a watchful eye on you at all times, and after a while a lot of them had started to do it less out of obligation and more so out of genuine care, especially Jinx and Sevika. 
Plus, he knows you can hold your own in a fight. Growing up in the undercity had hardened you just enough to make you a scrappy but formidable opponent. So logically speaking, Silco knows there's no safer place for you to be, but the thought of anyone other than himself seeing you in that, especially the less than respectable patrons that frequent his establishment nearly every night, makes his blood boil.
“Of course I'm happy to see you, my dear,” he retorts, turning his head to look over at you once more, eyes darting downwards to that indecent piece of fabric wrapped around your waist then back up to meet your gaze. “It's just that I'm seeing quite a lot of you at the moment, and if you go back downstairs, so will everyone else.” His last words come out strained as he shifts in his chair in a poor attempt to alleviate his growing erection.
“Oh, you mean my skirt? Is there…something wrong with it?” You lift your hips to take the tiniest of scoots towards him, and Silco’s eyes immediately hone in on the action. 
“Don’t be cheeky.”
Another scoot. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped, especially in this.”
At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if you really are trying to kill him, taking controlled and steady breaths while he attempts to suppress his growing ire in response to such a ridiculous question. Of course there’s something wrong with it. Silco’s sure he’d nearly be able to see the soft outline of your mound if you were to spread your legs, even in the slightest.
He lets out another deep breath before picking up his pen and casually scribbling his signature on one of the invoices strewn about in front of him. “You will not be going back down there like that.”
He’s not looking at you, but Silco can see the movements of you moving closer out of the corner of his unmarred eye.
“Are you..asking me to stay?” 
He doesn’t respond, instead electing to take another piece of paper to scrawl his name at the bottom offhandedly. He knows what you’re playing at, the fact that it took him so long to realize it irks him to no end. He wouldn’t mind answering honestly and just telling you that yes, he does want you to stay, but the thought of giving into your bratty little antics this evening doesn’t sit quite right with him. 
Which is why he makes the conscious decision to ignore you as you move close enough to where your upper leg is now narrowly brushing his elbow, the shift causing him to mess up the tail end of another signature. Silco chances a glance towards the movement and regrets it almost immediately when he takes in the soft curve of your thigh, his cock twitching painfully at the sight.
He makes his second mistake when he follows the tantalizing trail of your body upwards and is met with the most unabashed, shit eating grin plastered across your face. He has to force himself to look away, the hand not holding his pen coming up to drag his long fingers back and forth across his mouth as he contemplates the idea of sending you away all together, leaving you pouty and disappointed. And for a moment he comes close to doing just that, until he makes the grave error of risking a glance up at your face again.
You’re not smiling anymore, expression replaced by something far more lustful and serious. Silco simply stares as your tongue slides out to pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before gently nudging his elbow with your knee. He doesn’t hesitate in dropping his arm to offer you the space in front of him, and you slide over gracefully. He stays perfectly still while you plant a foot atop each of the armrests of his ornate chair, knees pressed tightly together.
He finally responds to your earlier question with one of his own. 
“What would possibly give you that idea?” His voice is light and teasing, all traces of anger gone. “You’ve been nothing short of a nightmare all evening, love. And now this?” Fingertips come up to stroke the side of your calf, humming appreciatively.  “What am I going to do with you?”
This earns Silco a wide, toothy grin as you scoot forward. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”
“Don't be coy with me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, breath fanning over your knees as he speaks. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” knees parting just barely, “to answer my question.”
Silco pushes his tongue against his cheek in minor annoyance before sliding both hands up your legs and over your knees, then back down until he reaches your hips. He grips firmly at the supple flesh and yanks you closer towards him, eliciting a sharp squeak followed by a string of giggles.
“I think you might be the most aggravating creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of courting.”
Your face adorns a look of mock appreciation. “Awe, thank you!”
Slender hands travel back up to your knees. “Truly just a tantalizing little menace.” He waits for you to part them further, granting him the access he’s so desperately craving. “One that I’m both drawn to and irritated by all at once.”
Your smile is nothing short of haughty, as if you’re truly taking everything he’s telling you as a compliment. “Well now you’ve really got me hot and bothered,” you shoot back, knees moving further away from each other until you’re spread all the way open for him.
Although spoken in a sarcastic tone, Silco sees that your words are in fact true, his eyes taking in the sight of your already dripping cunt.
“Indulge me, sweetheart,” he says, one hand coming up to trace the backs of your thighs with his knuckles, causing goosebumps to decorate your soft skin. “Why the need to be so difficult tonight?” 
You shiver at the touch, bottom lip still tucked between your teeth as he brings a thumb up to stroke lazily over your pussy. 
“J-just for fun,” you retort, but your voice doesn’t hold the same conviction. “Wanted to see..how long it would take.”
“How long what would take?”
The laugh you let out is shaky at best, but there’s still a bit of confidence left when you answer. “For you to ask me to stay.”
It only takes about half a second before Silco’s thumb pushes into your core and his tongue cards a long, hot stripe along your folds. The noise you make spurring him on further as his mouth envelopes your clit, giving it a harsh suck before pulling away with a satisfying wet plop sound.
“I don’t recall asking anything of the sort,” he chides, sliding his thumb back out. “If memory serves me correctly, you came into my office several times practically demanding my attention.”
Silco punctuates his last few words by pushing two fingers into you, pulling another sharp inhale from your lips as he turns his palm to face upward and curls them inside of you.
“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts, bringing his thumb to circle against your now swollen clit, drawing a long whine out of you as you work your hips against him. “..that perhaps I attempt to send you away in order to finish with my tasks quickly, just so I can get back to doting on you with said attention? Selfish little creature.”
Your eyebrows pinch together, speaking between shallow breaths. “You.. could have just.. said that.. you know.”
Silco smirks, watching you look back at him with a pair of pleading eyes. “And deny myself the pleasure of seeing your lovely pouts and open displays of petulance?” He adds a third finger. “I think not.” 
“Silco,” you whine, “please.”
His cock twitches in response, and he doesn’t waste any time bringing his mouth back down to your bud and swirling his tongue around it lavishly while his fingers twist and turn inside of you. He watches you throw your head back, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip the edge of the desk above your head, the other coming to latch onto the top of his head hard as you roll your hips against him. 
“There, that’s it,” he coos, “show me how eager you are. Use me.” 
This draws another string of small gasps and moans from you, coupled with lewd, wet, slurping sounds as Silco continues to lap and suck at your clit, bringing his free hand to grip your thigh and anchor you to him. The strain in his pants grows increasingly more painful when you sigh his name affectionately, followed by a noise of protest when he removes his fingers from you all together in an effort to tug at intricate buttons of his trousers, freeing his aching cock and palming himself to the sight of your ruined state. 
Your arousal coating his fingers serves as a welcome lubricant for him to stroke himself languidly, relishing in the feeling of you bucking up into him, using him to chase your own end. His licks are hot and thorough, leaving no part of your heat untouched.
“Yes,” Silco groans into you, “just like that.”  
Your other hand comes down to unbutton your top, cupping and squeezing at one of your breasts, and he knows you’re close by the way you’re begging and pleading above him. The sound of your voice feeds into his determination, letting go of his cock in order to wrap both arms around your thighs, securing you in place and devouring you like a starved man.
The way you cry out his name while your walls flutter around his tongue has him reeling, mismatched eyes boring into you, watching your orgasm in complete reverence as your fluids run down his chin.
“Good girl,” Silco sighs, his movements slowing down to let you ride out your climax. “You always make such sweet sounds for me.” 
Your legs tremble and the vicelike grasp you have on his hair loosens before you slump back down onto his desk, words barely managing to come through your short and labored breaths.
“Could've been making them a lot earlier if you’d…stop trying to kick me out.”
A hint of a smile creeps up on his face as he presses small, feather light kisses up the backs of your thighs, leaving glistening spots of your slick behind in their wake. “You know, it is possible to keep your unsolicited remarks to yourself every once in a while.”
Yours breaks into a devious grin that tugs at his heart without mercy. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 
“Mmm, point taken.” 
Silco stands to turn your body so that you’re taking up the full length of his desk before climbing up onto it and bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His length bobs thick and heavy with need, bringing it to rest against your slit.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
You roll your hips against him needily, coating his cock with your arousal. “Maybe.”
“You drive me absolutely mad,” he growls, voice dripping with carnal hunger as he pushes your legs up against your chest once again, lining himself up with your entrance. And it’s the way you're looking up at him with your lip tucked in between your teeth in anticipation, the slight inward curl of your eyebrows in an almost pleading expression that has him pushing into you in one, smooth buck forward, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside of you.
Silco sees your eyes roll back, and he has to physically stop himself from doing the same. He wants to see it all, wants to see your blissed out expression while he fucks you, wants to see all the different ways he can make you come undone beneath him.
You make a pitiful attempt at stifling a moan, one that ultimately fails when Silco starts to rock his hips against yours, pulling them back slowly and savoring the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls before driving them forward with a sharp, pointed thrust. But he’s right there with you, exhaling a throaty groan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him so deliciously, the sensation being nothing short of divine.
“Look at you, taking me so well,” he whispers, lowering his head and tilting it to place gentle kisses along your jawline before nipping at your earlobe. “Like we were made for each other.”
The breathy whine this elicits causes him to straighten himself upright again, picking up his pace steadily, and soon the room is filled with the obscene, wet smacking of skin against skin as Silco begins to pump into you with feral-like need. He readjusts your legs so that your calves are hooked over his shoulders, letting him fuck you so much deeper. 
You’re a mess of broken pleas beneath him, and he clings to every single one, a symphony meant solely for him and him alone. Silco watches you with wholly, unabashed devotion as your face twists and contorts in pleasure, pleasure that only he can bring you. And though he wants to feel like he’s still in control, he knows deep down he’s equally ruined by what you do to him, maybe even more so. His seafoam eye glazes over, and strands of hair fall loosely around his face as he ruts into you. 
You reach up and try to put your arms around his neck, but the position your legs are in only allow you to claw at his shoulders helplessly. “S-silco, please..”
“Oh? I see someone’s finally learned some manners,” he taunts.
The huff of annoyance you let out amuses him more than he’d care to admit, “For fuck’s sake, Sil. Let me hold you.”
“Demanding thing,” he scolds, but gives into your ‘request’ regardless, lowering your legs just enough so that your knees fall to the side and hook over his forearms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck with open urgency. And now you’re pulling him down and holding him there, like the waters he'd nearly drowned in.
Silco’s jaw goes slack as he turns his head and pants in your ear like some wild beast, whose sole purpose is to bring you to your end. Like it was all he was ever made for. Your head turns to meet his lips with your own, and he tries to keep some semblance of restraint while he kisses you, but he can’t, not with you. It’s hungry and sloppy, full of exceeding desperation. 
He breaks the kiss reluctantly to make his way down to your neck, lips and tongue moving against the delicate flesh and littering your throat with marks of all kinds, leaving no room for anyone to question who you belong to. “Mine,” Silco snarls possessively in between sucks and bites.
He's about to pull away when one of your hands slides up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and locking him in place, begging for more, more, more, and Silco’s more than happy to oblige. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger so tightly, and this realization both excites and ruins him as he begins to ram everything he has into you with new purpose.
“Oh fuck, Silco. Right there,” you cry out, voice becoming raspy and hoarse from your continuous gasps in between moans. 
"Yes, that's it. Show me how much you want this, how much you need this," he huffs out through gritted teeth, trying to establish some form of dominance once again, but it's no use when he realizes his words are just as applicable to him as they are to you.
He forgoes his hold on your legs, letting them fall to your sides briefly before wrapping them around his waist. Your eyes flutter shut and your head starts to loll to the side, but Silco grabs your jaw quickly and forces you to look directly at him.
“None of that, darling. I want you to look at me when you come undone,”  His breath comes out ragged and primal. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
You nod frantically in response, eyes drifting downward to stare at his mouth, like a silent plea. He takes the hint without delay, squishing your cheeks together until your lips form a small pout before leaning down to kiss you fervently. His tongue swirls around yours, hot and wanting, before he pulls away just enough for him to pant into your open mouth, his connecting to yours by the thinnest string of saliva. 
Silco can sense your second orgasm approaching rapidly, and he brings his fingers towards your lips. You take the hint right away, wrapping them around his digits and sucking on them lavishly. Once he’s satisfied enough, he removes them and snakes his hand down through your intertwined bodies, settling for the bundle of nerves located between your legs.
Your moans increase in pitch, arms and legs squeezing even tighter around him as he works you with skilled flicks of his wrist.
“You’ve endured this so well, my love,” he whispers against your ear, voice laced with unrestrained hedonism and resolve. “Let’s reward all that effort of yours tonight, shall we?”
His question is rhetorical, but you nod so eagerly for him nonetheless as your walls begin to pulsate, clenching so unbelievably tight around him you’re practically pushing his cock out, nearly sending him over the edge himself.  
“That’s my girl,” he sighs with heavy grit and worship. “You feel incredible.”  
Silco’s face comes back up to hover over yours, looking directly into your eyes while he fucks you through your climax, his own looming closer and closer. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your labored breaths greedily as his thrusts begin to stagger before coming to a complete halt, his pelvis flush against yours as his cock twitches obscenely within your heat. He lets out a harsh, guttural moan right into your mouth as he spills into you, your walls continuing to milk him with stuttered squeezes, and he has to pull away sharply to exhale a series of delirious gasps. 
Your chests heave against one another, waves of pleasure slowly dissipating as your sweat soaked bodies stay interlocked. Silco shifts slightly, bringing his hands to stroke the top of your head lazily with his fingertips. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he places soft, tender kisses along your cheeks, your eyes, your lips, anything within reach.
He’s rewarded with a giggle, followed by a dopey little grin.
“You know,” you say as your breaths finally return to normal. “I just remembered the other reason you try to send me away while you work.”
Silco already knows the answer, but you punctuate your words anyway by wiggling your ass, causing the sound of his paperwork shuffling beneath you, followed by a light yelp as he smacks your bottom lightly. 
“Impossible little wench,” he chastises, lifting himself off of you and being greeted once again by the sight of the thing you keep referring to as a ‘skirt’. He grabs the edge of it with his fingertips, holding it up like it was a cursed object. “Where in Janna’s name did you even get this from?”
You bark out a laugh before propping yourself up hastily to look down at it with pride. “Ran let me borrow it.”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Borrow it,” he repeats, “as in you have every intention of giving it back to them?”
You stare at him for a moment, no doubt mulling over your answer.
“...No?”
Silco smirks at your response before leaning in. “Good girl. Besides, I think we may find many more uses for it still.”
Your eyes widen with child-like wonder, but for the entirely wrong reason. “Oh, so you’ll wear it for me, too?”
He stares back at you blankly, blinking several times before rolling his eyes almost theatrically, earning him another small fit of laughter as he finally graces you with a response.
“Whatever pleases you, I suppose.” 
384 notes · View notes
kalims · 2 years
Text
‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "do I like you? is that even a question?"
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you like me, don't you?
heartslabyul : savanaclaw : octavinelle : scarabia : pomefiore : ignihyde : diasomnia :
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"w-well, you say it like it's a bad thing." azul says. his sentence comes out rocky at first, he curses himself for letting a stutter squeeze through but he can't really blame himself when you took him by suprise.
he neither acknowledges your words or denies it. a smart move, he can just say 'i never said I did.' if you just so happened to react negatively and taking your words into opportunity it's as if he already has it in the bag.
sure he's nervous. somehow he can feel his palms grow clammy from the way his glasses seems way too slipper in between his finger and his old habit of unconsciously fixing himself up starts to happen.
but all he can hear is his heart hammering so loud that it actually sends shiver down his spine. the beat vibrates throughout his body, singing a hopeful song.
it's funny how much exactly he gambled through your words alone. this was a great opportunity he absolutely will not miss. certainly better than letting his feelings go unsaid, he never really did plan to confess but oh well.
you smile and he feels like he just found a jewel lost in a sea, a jackpot. "oh really?"
"fufu,,, would you like that?"
jade is cruel though it was already evident the earlier times you've come across him with your friends, wearing the same polite smile everyday. you remember the time your mind quite literally focused all it's attention on his teeth when he grinned, they always say dangerous things are the most prettiest.
somehow your mind completely ignored the fact that there's a twisted pleasure in his grin when he witnesses someone in visible agony or pain. of course, you cant literally sense that kind of thing. to your standards atleast but you wouldn't be suprised if there's some kind of spell for it.
but you just knew, and if there's anything jade likes more than pain decorated cruelly on others it's probably toying with other people and you're 50% sure he is with you, right now. first he'll get your hopes up and crush it with a few words, all pampering and sweet then cold the next second.
despite of hanging out with him with the free times you sometimes posses. you still don't know how to get out without being hurt. "hmm... maybe, but do you like me?"
just answer with neither yes or no, that's the best thing you could come up with right now. something made up last minute but you suppose it works.
you're—
"of course." he smiles, it seems a little less menacing than his usual one. "what's there to not like?"
if jade was that kind of guy you'd be intimidated at from his quietness alone, it's sort of cold, certainly having an off feeling to it. the way he talks, stands or even looks at you. then floyd would be the one you'd be intimidated at from the way he's able to spout concerning things so casual and brightly, and then transitioning to an actual dark tone so quickly.
'crush you to death' you as well misunderstood it as literally until he just hugged you.
—very tightly at that. you suppose he just has an interesting way of wording things.
"of course I do!" floyd replies happily. squeezing you tighter by sheer joy each passing second, you don't know if you should cry from the restriction of proper oxygen or cheer at his scary cuteness.
you choose the choice to live. "hey can yo—"
what the hell was that ace?
"what's this lovey dovey stuff? 'I like you too you know'." ace cuts you off and his interference alone had floyds grip already slipping, then the words register and he's hugging you tighter again.
are you shitting me. you think, obviously the male was joking cause he even forced his voice to sound deeper, akin to floyd's which makes you think that the boy is trying to match up their tone. it was meant to be lighthearted and mocking but you think that it completely flies over floyd's head.
ace realizes his mistake too late when the tall, big, scary, eel man's face takes a turn for the scariest. "hey.. you wanna get beat up?"
"hey man I was joking—"
you learn that floyd won't really care if someone's joking or not because he will chase them, going from intimidatingly scary to more pleased to witness the change in their expression.
ace tells you to not go near him with floyd in tow anymore the next day.
3K notes · View notes
talaok · 5 months
Text
Hot teach
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Summary: you force Joel to go ice-skating
Warnings: none I think, just Joel being a touchy menace
A/n: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this mostly for myself cause I went icekating today and a girl is obsessed and I couldn't help but wonder how it would have been with my man. also i do be a lil bit tipsy so forgive me if this isn't really all that great, i just wanted to write something cute to daydream about when im falling asleep
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"oh c'mon babe you're not even trying!" you laughed, watching as he gripped the banister for dear life
"I am, trust me I am, this thing it's just hard" he grunted, almost falling in the process of trying to look at you
"Joel Miller" you stated, moving so you were in front of him "You've done harder things in your life" you said, raising an eyebrow, "now c'mon, take my hands and get away from there"
He sighed, looking down at those deathly ice skates attached to his feet 
"darlin' if I die 'cause of this I'll be real mad"
"you won't die" you chuckled, holding out your hands for him "now c'mon, hold onto me"
And with great difficulty, and very very slowly, he managed to do it, he was finally away from the edge of the skate rink.
"there, see, wasn't that hard"
"I wouldn't say that exactly"
"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Now just like I taught you: bend your knees, then lift one foot, and try to gly"
You watched as he just stood there, looking at you uncertainly
"I'll be here the whole time, I won't let go" you promised, trying to calm his nerves
"sweetheart I don't know if I'm cut out for this type of stuff"
You smiled, reducing the distance between you
"You can do it, baby" you murmured, kissing his cheek "Just give it a try, trust me"
And so he did, almost falling, but he did nonetheless.
"there" you grinned "that was good"
"you ain't gotta lie now doll" he shook his head "Those kids over there are doing better than me" he joked, his eyes going to a group of 10-year-olds to your right
You couldn't help but laugh
"I meant for the first try" you explained "You just need a little practice"
That's how the next half hour passed: practicing.
He kept holding onto you as you skated backward to follow his movements while he moved towards you, and with time, he was even able to skate by your side, his hand still in yours and at a speed slower than a turtle's, but still, it was definitely an improvement.
Convincing him to go ice skating with you hadn't been an easy task, but (as always) you had done it. I mean, it was almost Christmas and they had built a big ice skating ring so close to your house, what else were you supposed to do but drag him to it?
"you're basically a professional" You smiled as you took a break, holding on to the edge of the rink
"absolutely" he laughed "I'm sure that kid I almost killed while falling would also agree"
"Oh yes" you giggled "I'm sure he would"
A moment passed, as you let the sound of laughter and Christmas music flow into your ears 
"You're beautiful sweetheart" he murmured, his hand now holding your waist and making you face him
"where's that coming from?" you smiled, raising your hand to fix his hair, just for it to fall to his shoulder
"I've been thinking it all day, I was just a little preoccupied before" 
"is that right?"
"sure is" he smirked, the distance between you now completely gone "You're hot when you teach me stuff, y'know?"
You laughed "Oh yeah?"
"yeah" he breathed, ghosting his lips "I've got the most gorgeous teacher in the world," he said, a moment before kissing you, like really kissing you, like it didn't matter that people and kids were all around you type of kiss.
You whimpered into his mouth as his hands traveled lower to find your ass through your jeans.
"I know what you're doing mister" you purred, leaving a quick kiss on his lips again 
"oh yeah and what's that?" he asked, not giving you time to answer before he was devouring you again, his tongue exploring your mouth ever so heavenly
"I'm sorry to break it to you Miller, but you aren't gerring out of this so easily" you smiled, crushing all his hopes "We've paid for another hour, and I'm not letting it go to waste"
"sugar c'm-"
"don't even try baby" You shook your head, leaving a soft kiss on his reddened nose "you still have a lot of practice to do" you smirked, "but hey at least you've got a hot teach"
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ladykailitha · 22 days
Text
Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 16
Just one more chapter left, and in cased you missed it, I won't be doubling up on chapters per day this week. The last chapter will be out next week.
Doubling up really killed the numbers for these stories, half the time people were only reacting and commenting on the SECOND chapter.
But don't worry, what this means is that your favorites you've been seeing snippets of on WIP will get quicker releases this way.
In this Eddie's rut progresses as normal, they talk about Steve's status, and Eddie and Benny learn some very interesting things about golden omegas.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15
****
Eddie came to and was sure that at least a day had passed, but he looked at the clock on Steve’s nightstand and frowned. It had only been five hours since his rut had started. He looked in the wastebasket and there were only three condoms in it which fit the time frame.
He looked around, but Steve wasn’t there. He sat up and the sheet that had been covering his waist slid off. He looked down and saw that his dick was sheathed with another condom.
There was some of Steve’s slick on the sheets, but considering Eddie was still in them, he figured Steve couldn’t change them yet.
He could hear Steve humming to a beat in the kitchen and padded out there.
He smiled fondly as he watched the omega dance around his kitchen to the music in his head. Bopping and hopping as he made a wholesome snack.
“That snack looks good, baby,” he said, his alpha rumbling happily, “but I would rather eat you.”
Steve squeaked. “Eddie! You’re awake! How do you feel?”
For the first time since he woke up, he took stock of his body, really examining it.
“Warm, sated...” he said furrowing his brow, “happy?”
Steve beamed at him. “Yay! That means your rut is progressing as it should. It seems like your body is adjusting better to the low light and you’re more lucid.”
Eddie came up behind him and buried his nose into Steve’s scent gland. “All because of you, sweetness.”
Steve squawked when Eddie picked him and spun him around.
When Eddie finally put him down Steve swatted at him playfully. “You absolute menace.”
Eddie cackled. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”
Steve turned around in his arms and kissed him deeply. Their cocks brushed against each other and he let out a low moan.
“So good...”
Eddie nipped at Steve’s chin. “Let’s get some food in us and then I want something else in you.”
Steve snorted. They ate and hydrated before Eddie picked Steve up bridal style and carried him back to the bedroom.
Eddie could feel himself sliding back into the blind haze of his rut, but the scent of the omega underneath him stirred some distant memory, but it was lost in the next moment when Steve moaned.
The pattern continued like that for the five days. Steve and Eddie taking care of each other while Eddie was lucid, Steve taking care him when he wasn’t.
Eddie had never experienced a rut that had gone so smooth. He understood why alphas paid top dollar for an escort to service their ruts if every one was like this.
He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend another rut without Steve for as long as he was biologically able to experience ruts.
Each time he became lucid, he would become aware for longer. The last day having two hours before the rut took over him again.
But he used those two hours wisely. He talked to Steve.
“Baby,” Eddie said, from the sofa, “come sit for a bit. You know it won’t hit again for awhile, you might as well relax.”
Steve looked over at him and smiled. He padded over to the sofa and curled up onto Eddie’s lap.
“How are you feeling?” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.
“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “This was worth every penny. I see why it’s so popular.”
Steve chuckled. “I’m glad that it’s available to alphas that can’t afford escorts through clinics.”
“That’s a new thing, though right?” Eddie asked. “I don’t remember seeing them when I first presented.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “It’s something that a lot of the major escort houses pushed for in recent years, if all alphas can get the same level of care that the rich do, then it lowers the chances of alphas turning feral from bad ruts.”
Eddie grinned. “It would have happened in the last five years or so, would it? Like say when a particular omega became popular?”
Steve blushed but didn’t deny it. Alpha health was something he had been passionate about for awhile. Helping everyone no matter how much money someone had was just the start of what he wanted to do. Mandating sex education for alphas. It was mandated for omegas and beta, but not alphas, because ‘alphas instinctively knew what to do’ with omegas. Which was bullshit.
“I thought so,” Eddie said.
Steve smiled back. “I’ve even got a non-profit going setting up education booths outside high schools for alphas to get pamphlets and other material about their reproductive health.”
“Ooh, ooh!” Eddie said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We should throw a gala like the one where we met to get the awareness out there.”
“That’s a great idea, Eds,” Steve said, kissing Eddie’s jaw.
They settled down into a warm silence for awhile just taking in each other’s soothing presence.
Eddie nuzzled Steve ear to wake him. “Hey, you tired, sweetness?”
Steve roused himself and looked up at him bleary eyed. “I guess I am. You see this rough and tumble alpha has been keeping my hole hot and full for the few days. Trying to keep up with him is tiring me out.”
Eddie cackled. “Yeah, if he wears you out so bad, you should blacklist him or something.”
“I would, but I’m in love with his cock so...”
Eddie’s head reared back in mock indignation. “Excuse you!”
Steve laughed. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scent gland and the alpha purred. Steve’s omega chirped happily in response.
“I love your scent,” Eddie murmured. “It’s not like other escorts I’ve met.”
Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Chrissy, Elinor, Tommy,” Eddie said. “All smell too sweet. Like fruit rotting on the vine. A terrible but apt metaphor for their condition. But you smell spicy. But in sweet kind of way.”
“I do?” Steve really never thought about his own scent before.
Eddie nodded. “Gareth described it like Mexican hot chocolate. You know the kind that is spiced with peppers?”
Steve nodded back.
“Did you ever think that you might be a golden omega?” Eddie continued.
Steve’s eyes went wide. “Never. Like why would I? I’m not special.”
“That’s highly debatable, sweetheart,” Eddie admonished. “But your scent and everything you’ve told me about your family. It’s very possible you could be.”
“Is that why you wanted to court me?” Steve asked, soft and small. Like a mouse.
Eddie pulled Steve in closer. “No baby, I didn’t figure it out until later. I wanted to court you because you are funny and amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”
He lift Steve’s chin up and kissed him deeply. “Plus, I set up the rut way before I put the pieces together. Everything was set to protect me, but it seems to me that it may end up protecting you, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“As you know, golden omegas can only get pregnant during their heats,” Eddie said. “And since I’m a known scent breaker...”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “You think there is a chance I’ll go into a mini heat, don’t you?”
Eddie nodded. “When I first booked you, it was one of the things Robin was adamant about protecting you from.”
“She’s amazing like that,” Steve murmured.
“She really is,” Eddie cooed. “But it looks like our time is up, honey.”
Steve could feel Eddie’s cock harden under his ass. “Come to bed with me, alpha,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”
Eddie let Steve pull him to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Steve’s bedroom for the last of Eddie’s rut.
****
When Eddie came to he was not in Steve’s apartment, he was in a smaller hotel room lying on a comfy sofa.
“I’m going to have to burn that sofa after all this,” Robin groused from a nearby armchair. “It will reek of alpha for months if I don’t. I can smell you from here.”
Eddie sat up. He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white tank top. No underwear, but then he hadn’t brought any. He ran his fingers through his greasy and sweat slicked hair.
“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled.
“Your manager, Benny sent over a duffel of clothes for you for the next three days.”
Eddie saw the small duffel and snatched it up. “May I please request the use of your shower, milady?”
Robin laughed. “Please do.”
Eddie dashed for the door she pointed to and slammed the door behind him. He stripped his clothes and quickly got under the still cold water. He didn’t want to wait for it to heat up because he felt that gross. His dick was most clean because Steve took the time to wipe him down between condom changes, but he washed it good anyway.
The next thing he focused on was his hair, he had to wash it several times before it felt like it was supposed to. He ran conditioner through the ends of his curls with his fingers, gently massaging it in.
Then he worked on getting the sweat and stink off his body. He hated washing away Steve’s scent, but if he didn’t get clean, Eddie was going to scratch his eyeballs out.
Finally satisfied with how clean he was, he rinsed out his conditioner and stepped out.
He dried off quickly and rummaged through the bag.
Eureka!
Underwear.
Eddie got dressed and then cleaned up his mess, hanging up towels and making sure there wasn’t water everywhere. Uncle Wayne raised him better than to make a mess of someone else’s home.
He opened the door to find Robin and Benny waiting for him.
“Hey, Ben Ten, Birdie,” he greeted, concern dripping from every pore. “What’s happening?”
Benny smiled. “It’s nothing bad. Robin and I were just wrapping up the end of the contract.”
Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing because he was madly in love with Steve. He sat down on the sofa next to Benny.
“So everything is good?” he asked to be sure.
“Yup!” Robin said brightly. “You are now free to pursue the omega of your dreams.”
Eddie chuckled.
He thought for a moment, licking the bottom of his lip.
“Hey, Robin,” he asked, looking down at his clasped hands, “has an escort ever turned out to be a golden omega?”
Robin and Benny shared a glance.
“You think Steve might be one?” she asked. “Because if he is, that would be fucking hilarious.”
Eddie’s head snapped up.
“His parents have called him useless and a disgrace for being infertile for over a decade,” Robin explained. “To have him be a golden omega who could have been sold for ten to twenty times what he got auctioned for? That would be poetic justice.”
He nodded. “So do you think there’s a chance?”
“Sure,” she said with a half shrug. “The agency doesn’t shout it from the rooftops but yeah, there have been a couple of golden omegas that have come out of Starcourt.”
“How did they find out?” Benny asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.
“A combination of a couple different ways,” Robin said. “The first is how frequent their heats are. Most golden omegas go into heat more often then regular fertile omegas to make up for the fact they can only get pregnant during their heats.”
Eddie nodded, “And Steve’s are within the normal range?”
She waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s more times a year than a regular omega, but not outside the possibility if you know what I mean.”
“So say a regular omega has four heats a year and golden omega has eight,” Benny said, “Steve’s heat is somewhere in the middle?”
Robin nodded. “Exactly. The other thing is scent. Which you know Steve’s is unusual. But it’s unusual for an omega full stop.”
Benny and Eddie shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Alphas scents are spices, like cinnamon, clove, cardamon, or spicy like peppers, or natural woody scents like pine or cedar,” she explained. “Omegas are fruit and floral scents. Sometimes flavors like chocolate or coffee. That includes golden omegas. Infertile omegas have what is always described as rotted fruit. Super sickly sweet.”
Eddie bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “But Steve’s is a mix between the two scents?”
Robin nodded again. “Right. The third thing that helps identify a non-tested golden omega is their resistance to scent breakers.”
“Fuck,” Eddie said. “That means he’s not a golden omega. I thought for sure he was. I even told him he was. That he was so special and precious beyond measure.”
She shook her head. “No, Eddie. That’s where you’re wrong. There is a final thing that helps identify if the omega in question is a golden or not.”
Eddie frowned, “What’s that?”
“There’s a reason golden omegas get their choice of any alpha in the country, if not world,” she said fiercely. “And despite what the media likes to paint it as, it’s not just the rich and elite.”
“It’s not?” Benny asked.
Robin shook her head again. “They’re looking for their soulmate.”
It was like someone had scooped out Eddie’s stomach. “Their what?”
“Soulmate,” Robin said. “The person who completes them. Someone who can break through their scent breaking resistance, someone who’s scent compliments their own, someone who when they share their heats and ruts it goes just about as perfectly as two humans can get. And if they meet that person?”
“Oh,” Eddie breathed.
“Oh.”
****
Soulmates! *jazz hands* Yeah, sorry I couldn't help myself.
Part 17
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forgeofthenine · 6 months
Text
How you know he loves you, before you date edition
Look, we all know Dammon doesn't know how to flirt. Pretty boy has spent all his time focusing on his smithing and trying to stay alive, it doesn't leave much time for romance.
But, when he meets you, again and again, as the tieflings journey to Baldurs Gate he lets himself just consider it for a moment. I can see him only coming to the realisation randomly when he's at his forge and he just pauses and needs to set his things down for a moment.
So, how does he show that he loves you? At least, at first?
Gifts, lots of gifts, so many gifts. This man is a menace. You might not even realise it at first, honestly. Him waiving the fee on comissions for you, or handing you something small he smithed and shrugging it off as not that big a deal. Nevermind how his heart is pounding.
I can see him gifting flowers sometimes too, little bunches of yellow and white ones clutched in his fist. Dammon can't really get the words out well so he stumbles over them before passing the flowers over and giving a little self satisfied nod, trying to distract you with other conversation.
Has anyone else seen his line with Karlach where he calls her 'touchable'? Man doesn't know what to say, but he tries anyway. Dammon is always trying to compliment you, most of the time the compliments land while also being adorably entertaining.
In the same scene he gives her hand that little squeeze and that's all the proof I need to tell Dammon's into physical touch. The way he'd clasp your hand when passing you something important, or casually grip your shoulder as he leans in and jokes quietly about the Absolutes army breaking down the city gates.
Gods forbid you hurt yourself near Dammon. The way he'd sit you down and pace around his home grabbing a wet cloth and some spare bandages to clean and dress your injury. The way he'd touch you so softly, fingers ghosting over your skin with a gentleness you didn't realise he possessed. If you really want to see Dammon blush and stumble over his words just ask him to kiss it better, you can almost see the way his brain shuts down as he thinks about doing it.
All in all, this man is husband material even if he doesn't realise it.
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Note
Hii there's absolutely no pressure but I love your writing and thought: what about Ravine working with the 141 on a mission where drugs are related and they need to find them (or something of that sort, I'm no expert in military stuff) and they bring a k-9 with them that is known for being aggressive and attacking if not treated with utmost precision, only for it to warm up to Ravine and snuggle up to him even tho he's the scary and "mean" one?
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Pictures: Cooper with Ravine VS Cooper with anyone else
Dear Anon, I love your magnificent brain for coming up with this scenario!!! And thank you so much!🤗 Also no worries I don’t know anything about the military either :’)) I hope I wrote this how you imagined, do let me know 🙌
Warning: Mentions of drugs, PTSD, amputation, transplant- Probably wrong military name usages and stuff. Maybe OOC?💧
Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, where they chase down the drugs with Cooper 😀
Drug mission with an aggressive K-9 who only turns putty for the "mean” Ravine. The boys are conflicted about who to feel jealous of- Cooper or Ravine, both who usually don't let themselves be touched.
Ravine, who just finished his massacre, was sent to 141’s base once their mission to get intel turned into a drug chase. Along with the confiscated information, they found a hidden stash of high class heroin on the boat, therefore they wanted the soldier to join them.
Laswell had tracked the owner later: Caro Edgar, a well known drug lord that has been long enough on the wanted list. Price decided it was time they get the man behind bars- or dead.
Someone from the DATR (Defence Animal Training Regiment) was delivering their best narcotic detection dog to the squad per Price’s request. Some of the boys were ecstatic to have a little furry friend with them…
Until the dog actually came into the base.
The K-9, Cooper was a menace to deal with.
He bared his fangs at the men in front of him once his cage was open. Gaz, who was excited to greet their four-legged friend, took a sudden step and Cooper was already in his face, mouth ajar to bite his head off, if it weren’t for the chain being pulled back by the dog handler.
Soap flinched back from the sudden hostility and that owned him a bunch of barkings while saliva flew from the K-9’s mouth.
Safe to say, both men backed off and used Ghost as a human shield. Said man glared at the canine, his shoulders tensed. Price on the other hand looked at the soldier with a questioned look, who lent them the aggressive canine.
“I apologize but he is the only one qualified with the mission, the others aren’t ready or already on duty.”
 For the past two days, they tried to get along with the aggressive K-9 but it wasn’t getting any better.
If they moved too fast, he barked.
Breathed wrong? He growled.
Too close and shifting wrong? Cooper jumped them if it weren’t for the chain stopping him. They had to fill his bowl and slide it over from a distance due to Ghost almost losing his hand the first time he tried to fill his plate.
Price was 100% certain that Soap was having nightmares of the dog ripping him to shreds while he slept. Gaz refused to come near the devil spawn and walked along the edge while pressing his back to the wall. His eyes never left the four-legged demon when he passed around it.
Ghost? He and Cooper had a glaring contest every single time the dog started barking and growling like a feral animal when they came across each other.
 On the third day, Ravine finally reached the base and the dog hadn't lessened his bullshit which made the Task Force slowly lose it. Cooper made noises throughout the night when he felt like they didn’t suffer enough trying to take care of him.
The dog trainer admitted that she was a little afraid of the Belgian Malinois herself. The previous owner died on the mission so the dog was passed down to her. Cooper was one of the best K-9 they had so they had to keep him even if he was being hostile to the other dogs. They had to separate him into solo training with a group of supervisors to get the K-9 under control.
They were all currently all out in the open, trying to make Cooper listen to their commands. They couldn’t keep waiting due to the risk of Caro Edgar shipping a whole warehouse of drugs underground.
“Steaming bloody Jesus!”
Soap jumps back, close to losing his footing when Cooper jumps up to meet the man face to face.
“This isn’t going anywhere! We need a new dog damn it!”
Price sighs and opens his mouth to agree but notices the collar ripping from the sideline.
“Get away from him, NOW!!”
*Snap*
Cooper wastes no time to attack, Gaz who he seems to be running to, screams in fear and throws his body to the side. Only to reveal Ravine appearing from behind him, the men panic at the soldier staring at the report in his hands.
“RAVINE DUCK!”
Their hearts skip a beat when the dog comes slamming down onto him from above. Papers flew through the air as Ravine couldn’t even finish registering what Ghost was screaming about until a blur of black and brown came into his sight.
They run towards the fallen soldier, expecting blood to pour from his shoulders or any part Cooper decided to bite into.
But Ravine laid on the ground unharmed with a hand holding the front legs and the other grabbing tightly on the dog’s mouth like a muzzle as he proceeded to get the K-9’s face further away from his.
“That was close. You good mate?” Soap warily inches closer but stops when Cooper starts growling again.
“Aye.”
Ravine sits on the dirt for a moment before casting the dog to the side. As if the squad felt the change in their newcomer, they huddled together on the sideline with the dog trainer holding a brand new collar in her hands.
Cooper shakes his fur, his fangs out, ready to pounce at the threat in front of him. Ravine on the other hand stood calmly on his feet, his height casting a shadow on the dog as it came flying towards him.
“Sit.”
The dog flinches at his voice, hesitates for a split second then prepares to pounce, his jaw open-
“Sit.”
What some humans didn’t know was the highly sensitivity of a dog to pheromones. Cooper feels it, the malice from the stranger standing before him seems to grow and expand to an immeasurable size, all pointed at him and him only. Cooper was lost inside, alone, hunted down like a prey. If he didn’t listen now- he knew he was actually going to perish.
So he sat down, lowering as far as his body allowed.
 Gaz glances between Ravine and the dog in worry. “He doesn’t actually think this is going to work, is it?” His hands feel sweaty as he wiped them down on his clothes, his eyes peeking at Ghost and Soap. “He wasn’t here to see how dangerous it is.”
“I don’t think he’s dumb to believe that.” replies L.T. with crossed arms, the thought of shooting the little menace crossing his mind if the mutt decided to take a bite out of him.
“Sit.”
They suddenly find themselves on the ground before they hear Price cackle loudly on the bench. Soap’s legs felt like jelly when Ravine ordered them- the dog with a tone he hadn’t heard him use before.
Ravine stared at the quartet on the ground and Price on the bench, curious what the Captain found so funny at him getting the dog to lay down. He might never know because they avoided looking into his general direction.
Soap laid on his back, his face in his palms, Gaz pushed his hat down to hide his expression and Ghost was lucky to have his mask on as he grabbed his arms while turning away, the dog trainer pushed her head into her knees that were pulled towards her chest.
And lucky Price, who was already sitting, continued to crack up towards the squad with the occasional whines being let out from Cooper in the background.
Ravine thought the Captain told a joke that made the others react so strongly and didn’t bother questioning it, to their relief. When everyone calmed their hearts, they mentally agreed to never talk about this situation ever again but they knew Price would never let them live this down.
 They decided the little demon was Ravine’s responsibility now.
And at first they were glad to not have to risk their limbs anymore.
Cooper listened to every word Ravine spoke and slowly throughout the day, the dog started to waddle around without having to be leashed although he would still snap at the other’s who weren't Ravine.
What started out as an aggressive attack dog, turned in half a day into a puppy longing for affection and attention.
 On the fourth day, 141 was slowly getting fed up.
At one point they were jealous that Ravine gets to be on the menaces' good side. He gets to ruffle the dogs fur, pet it while they get a face full of teeth and saliva. Along with Cooper sitting on his lap, his thighs making it look really cozy to touch, the K-9 performed tricks and wagged his tail like a love-sick puppy yearning for cuddles from the man.
As if the four-legged demon didn’t plan to give Gaz a nose transplant, a hand amputation for Ghost and PTSD for Soap.
Then they couldn’t approach Ravine without Cooper getting in between them.
They weren’t allowed to be near him and had to stay at least a good few feet away. They couldn’t even hand him things over without the damn dog scaring them, so Cooper could bring the stuff to Ravine like some newspaper.
At the meeting to track down Caro Edgar, Cooper decided to interrupt by going in between his legs and standing up to put his front legs on Ravine’s chest. He wouldn’t stop bouncing until his human put an arm around him, his hand laying on top of his head for scratchies.
Price’s content that Ravine was a help to get the dog under control. They couldn’t risk flunking the mission caused by a misbehaving K-9. He lets his eyes linger on the duo, a smile spreading on his lips when the faceless man doesn't repulse from the physical affection.
He wanted to go back to the report but noticed that no one was really paying attention anymore besides Ravine, who was looking at the documents on the desk.
Gaz is tempted to pull at its tail beneath the desk so the K-9 would stop bothering Ravine so much. He snaps his eyes away from it when Cooper looks directly at him. The menace threw his attention back to the man petting him when the smell of fear slowly radiated off of Gaz.
Beside Ravine sat Soap as he wondered if one day the slouching male would give him a hug too. For a while he stared at the demon disappearing and replaced by a puppy in Ravine’s embrace.
Ghost gawks at the mutt in irritation. He fed him and got his limp nearly bitten off and now the same mutt is squeezing his teammate’s chest like some paw toy. He knows that Cooper was given him side eyes and showing his sharp fangs to mock him. Ravine looks down to check on the K-9 and there it goes acting all innocent.
‘Cunt.’
 On the sixth day, the dog trainer already left while the team wanted to get the mission done and over with, so they could immediately return the K-9 back to her.
Soap’s mind wanders around until he thinks aloud, his eyes following the dog wagging his tail at the tall man trying to train in peace. He grimaces at it for stealing his chance to bond with Ravine all to itself.
“Do you think that brat sleeps in the same bed as him?”
“I’m sure it does-” Gaz sips loudly from his bottle, his eyes glaring down at Cooper when the K-9 gets to snuggle closer to his chest before being pushed to the side, “Look at it! The dog gets to hug him before I even get the chance for Ravine to let me touch his shoulder!”
“I don’t even get a high five from him.”
“Me neither.”
Both turn their heads towards Ghost, silently edging him to answer the question. He sighs under his breath. “Negative.”
They all turn back to watching their friend from afar, occasionally cursing the dog under their breaths when they see how physical Cooper was getting with the man who was known to back away from people who wanted to touch him.
Even Ghost wasn’t that stingy.
Hell breaks loose when Cooper starts to put his paws on the man’s ass.
“ThaT’S IT-”
“Wait Soap, don’t dO THAT-!”
“JOHNNY DON’T-”
Terrified screams could be heard through the base along with a string of curses and a dog’s vicious barking. It ended with Ravine ordering Cooper to back off from his friends with a slight edge to his voice which scared the dog into laying on the ground shamefully.
On the other hand Gaz and Soap grin victoriously and pull faces at the dog behind the safety of the soldier’s back. Ghost silently curses the mutt for acting inappropriately while Price is hiding in the back, recording the whole situation to send to some people.
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jaemmphilia · 1 year
Text
★ 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ★ || b.c
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★ summary: after chris and y/n share a sloppy moment in chris' office, neither of them can deny the natural chemistry between them. chris, in a moment of confidence and mild lust, asks y/n out on a date. y/n agrees, not once thinking about his ex, shinwon. so why is that loser texting him to meet up while y/n is making out with chris on the couch?
★ characters: bahng christopher, choi y/n, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin
★ warnings: language, protected sex (they have decided to be responsible), chan being the absolute cutest, minho being a menace, seungmin being seungmin, jeongin being baby, uhh let me know if i forgot anything
★word count: ~7.4K
★binnie's thoughts: the second part to my chan fic, i felt like i needed to write something softer to balance out the filth of the first part, i hope its as good as the first part lol i also totally switched up the pov for this one, i feel like its better this way
★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!
read part one here!
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After hearing those words come out of Chris’ mouth, you are stunned, his own mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. Honestly, what does one say to such a question without coming off as desperate? You decide to just keep it casual, but not so casual that it seems like you’re brushing Chris off. 
“Oh, that sounds nice, actually.” You reply, a soft smile gracing your features as you fix the buttons on your shirt, your head turning to see Chris jumping into his slacks as he pulls them up, his ass bouncing when his feet make contact with the floor. You can’t help but stare, and before you have time to stop yourself, the palm of your hand comes in contact with the bouncy meat. 
The sound that comes out of Chris is a mix of a gasp and a shout. His head whips around to the cause of the slight stinging pain in his back side. You look up at Chris, your eyes a little wide, and your mouth opening to spout a million apologies, but a sweet, nervous laugh stops you. 
“I guess that’s payback for earlier, yeah?” Chris asks, turning his entire body to face you, his perfect teeth on display as he continues to chuckle lightly. You actually think you might explode if Chris continues to be so damn cute. 
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The two of you make plans to meet at Chris’ place after you both get off work. You guys exchange contact information (although Chris technically already has your number after he begged Minho for it, Minho finally choked it up after he made Chris tell him whether Jisung was single or not), and you both settled on arriving at Chris’ at seven that night. 
Which leaves you with about four hours to get ready and invite your children over to gossip. You decide to send a simple text to the group chat (which is named knockoff power rangers, courtesy of Seungmin) and you set your phone down, heading to your bathroom to take a shower and clean yourself out. You can hear your phone absolutely blowing up and you just laugh to yourself before taking your well-deserved shower. 
When you get out of the shower, you can hear people talking in your living room, and you’re not even phased by it at this point. All four of your headache-inducing children have a key to your apartment. The spare keys were made by Jeongin, who somehow managed to steal your main house key in order to make the customized versions for the rest of them. (“What if Y/N hyung accidentally cuts his finger again? And then we have no way of getting to him before he passes out?” Jeongin had said, his lips in a pout as he clung to his oldest hyung. To be fair, Jeongin had one too many mimosas that day.)
A sharp voice rings in your ears, and you don’t even need to think about it to figure out who the voice belongs to.  “Choi Y/N you better get your ass down here and explain what the hell happened today!!” Hyunjin shouts, his pouty lips turned down in a small frown.
You quickly slip on some sweatpants and a loose shirt before making your way down the short hallway to the living room. Lo and behold, your friends are all squished on the couch, their eyes wide and transfixed on your figure. 
“Alright, alright, just shut up and let me explain every single detail,” You say, taking a seat on the chair that sits near his couch. And then you begin to tell your nosy friends all about the time you had with Chris in that office just a few hours previous to now. 
By the end of your little rencounter the four male’s jaws were damn near on the floor, shock completely taken over them. Until, Seungmin is the first to speak up: 
“So, did you finally dump that lame ass guy? What was his name? He was so boring that I don’t even remember his name. Why did you even date him?” Seungmin says, his face contorted in a scowl. Seungmin had a vendetta against Shinwon, something about how he was painfully average and not exciting. He claims that it’s a case of “one person in the relationship is way too attractive to be seen with someone who looks like that.”
(“Hyung, you deserve someone sexy and cool, someone completely opposite of you,” Seungmin told you one day, and it took everything in you not to smack the chestnut haired male.) 
“Yeah, Shinwon and I broke up this morning, actually,” You mutter, finding the bracelet on your wrist (Felix made it for you, and you cherish it more than anything in the entire world) way more interesting than looking at the expressions on your friend’s faces. “It was long overdue, I was falling out of love with him, and he kept talking about moving in together and I was getting annoyed and stressed out so I just-” You take a breath, cutting your rambles off short. Felix stands from the couch and takes a few short steps toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. 
“It’s okay, hyung, you don’t have to explain yourself. If you felt that it was right to break up with Shinwon, then we all support your choice.” Felix turns to the other three with a look. “Isn’t that right, guys?” 
The three males all reply with various agreements before you find yourself sandwiched between your closest friends. At this moment, you feel loved, like you’re not alone in this cruel world. With your friends by your side, you feel like you could do anything.
The five males had all met at JYPE, Y/N being the first of the five to start working there. It wasn’t until about half a year later, he met Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, with his long black hair pulled in a half-up hairstyle, his body language confident as he feels all eyes on him, male and female alike. He knew those stares all too well. Stares of want, stares of envy and need. They all saw Hyunjin as someone with a pretty face and no brain. Hyunjin approached Y/N in the break room that following week, making himself comfortable in the chair next to the barely older man. 
“I’m Hyunjin and I’m new here.” the dark haired male said, holding his perfect, soft hand to Y/N. Y/N offered a shy smile before shaking hands with Hyunjin. “You were the only one who didn’t look at me like you wanted to devour me, so I’m sticking with you, now.” That's all it took to seal his friendship with Hyunjin, the two were a dangerous duo. 
Until precious Felix showed the next year. 
Lee Felix, with his adorable freckles and sweet smile, became friendly with everyone in the graphic design department. Felix even managed to befriend a few people from the production department. His energy was contagious, when he’s smiling, you can't help but smile as well. When he has an off day, you yearn for his sweet smile. Felix met Hyunjin before he met Y/N, but the two were introduced very quickly. Hyunjin dragged Felix all the way to Y/N’s desk, desperate to introduce the two of them. When Y/N laid his eyes on Felix, he felt like he had to protect Felix from this harsh company where it's easy to be taken advantage of. From that day forward, their duo became a trio. 
Then, Satan himself showed up just a month later. Nah, just Kim Seungmin, but close enough. 
Y/N’s personal thorn in his side, the devil on his shoulder telling him that he should 100% punch the crying child in the supermarket. Seungmin could be described as a monster disguised as a sweet puppy. Seungmin has this innocent smile that shows off his perfect teeth, his eyes becoming crescents as his face crinkles up. Behind that innocent smile is a man whose default option is verbal violence. Y/N knows that Seungmin means well, he’s just a different type of person. Seungmin was the one to approach Y/N, claiming that everyone else looked too boring and lame to be seen with him. Y/N just cocked an eyebrow at Seungmin and allowed the younger male to leech himself onto him. 
Now Y/N has three little ducks that follow him around, so why not give him one more? 
About five months later, little Jeongin arrives as a fresh new face. He was the youngest person to ever get a job at JYPE, at the ripe age of 19. The poor boy still had braces lining his pearly teeth. The older people of the graphic design department chose Jeongin as their personal butler, making the boy go on numerous coffee runs, printing runs, or just stupid errands that didn’t really need to be done. Y/N watched as they ran Jeongin ragged, not once allowing him to show them why he was hired at a young age. Y/N finally had enough of watching Jeongin get mistreated, so he stood up and grabbed Jeongin by the arm gently and dragged him over to his desk. 
“You’re joining my team, I can’t sit there and let them mistreat you like that.” Y/N said with his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze not leaving Jeongin’s wide-eyed expression. “I can tell you have potential, and I want to make sure that everyone sees that.” 
Jeongin could have cried at that moment, but all he did was bow and thank the older male. Ever since then, the five of them have been attached at the hip. You would think they’ve known each other for their entire lives, rather than just knowing each other only a few short years. They truly are a family and nothing could possibly split them up.
“So, did you agree to his date offer?” Hyunjin asks you, flicking Seungmin on the side of his neck when said male puts his bare feet on Hyujin’s thigh. “If you didn’t, tell him to hit me up.” Hyunjin is the only one who fails to see the way Felix’s demeanor drops, a slight frown settling on his lips. The freckled male receives a soft pat from Jeongin, hoping to comfort him at least a little bit. 
“Of course I said yes, the man gave me the best dicking I’ve had in a long time. Do you really think I’m going to reject him after that?” You say,, giving Hyunjin a pointed look as he rolls his eyes. “We agreed to meet at his place at 7 p.m.” 
“Do you have any idea what you’re gonna wear?” Jeongin pipes up, his brain already coming up with several different outfit combinations that will make his hyung’s physique stand out and blow Chris’ socks off. 
“Not a clue. I was waiting for you four to show up and play dress up with your personal doll,” You reply with a snort as you get up and make your way to the kitchen, preparing to feed Domino, who is currently laid on Seungmin’s lap. 
“Okay, let me raid your closet and put some things together!” Jeongin jumps up quickly and makes his way down the hall to your room, Felix trailing behind him, laughing the whole way there. 
“Does this mean I’m on hair duty?” Hyunjin pipes up from his spot next to Seugnmin, his dark chocolate eyes glued to his phone, scrolling on some social media app. He turns his phone to Seungmin, showing the male whatever is on the screen. 
“I mean, it’s up to you. Do you want to mess with this mane of mine?” You question, setting your cat’s bowl down in its little holder. You noticed that your hair has gotten quite long, and you know you are due for a trim soon, but the longer look is kind of growing on you. You walk to the couch, plopping yourself down in between Hyunjin and Seungmin, propping your legs across Hyunjin’s lap, peeking over to look at the long haired male’s phone. 
“You act like I have no idea how to handle long hair,” Hyunjin tuts, rolling his eyes as he flips his fringe out of his eyes. You watch your friend with a lovingly annoyed look on your soft features. Hyunjin is the definition of a diva and he’s aware of it. Seungmin always jokes around and says Hyunjin is probably a pillow princess, and not once has Hyunjin denied it. It’s honestly becoming less of a joke and more of a reality thing. (It’s hard to miss the way Felix blushes every time Seungmin jokingly mentions Hyunjin in a sexual light, the poor boy is close to exploding every single time.)
“You’re so damn dramatic, Jinnie. Just help me tame my hair, you Barbie wannabe.” You retort, your hand coming up and flicking the blonde’s forehead. Hyunjin lets out an offended noise, turning to you and throwing his entire body on your smaller frame. Seungmin gets kicked in the side and he lets out a yelp, before he pinches the culprit’s calf. You react on instinct and end up kicking Seungmin again with a sharp cry. 
The three of you are wrestling on the couch when Jeongin and Felix come out of the bedroom. The two of them just watch as the three of you poke, pull at, and even bite each other. Jeongin and Felix share a look before Jeongin clears his throat to catch your attention. The three of you stop what you are doing and look up, all three pairs of eyes wide and focused on Jeongin. 
“Hyung, go try on the outfit Lix and I picked out!” Jeongin says, flashing you a sweet smile, his eyes crinkling in excitement. Jeongin is the one person to go for fashion advice. The sweet boy has an eye for fashion just like Hyunjin has an eye for art and photography. “I think you’ll like what we put together! It’s totally your style, hyung!” Jeongin says, his eyes sparkling under the lights of your living room. You can’t help but melt seeing the youngest male smile so brightly. Jeongin deserves the world and so much more. 
You untangle yourself from Hyunjin and Seungmin’s grips as you make your way to your bedroom, only tripping once (“That’s a new record, hyung,” you can hear Seungmin’s voice in your head, already). You take a glance at the clothes on the bed, all laid out and neat. Were all of those items in your closet? How come you don't remember purchasing them? It doesn’t matter, Jeongin and Felix did a great job at choosing your outfit. An oversized navy blue sweater with the words ‘heart stop’ on the front in cursive. A pair of pale blue, baggy jeans with tons of rips in all sorts of places, including the area right under the swell of one’s behind. Next to the sweater is a necklace, one that you haven't seen in a long time. Where did those two sneaky little brats find your mother’s necklace? You pick up the necklace oh-so-gently and examine it with a soft smile on your face. A beautiful silver chain with a charm that looks like the planet Saturn, with a stunning amethyst gem as the planet. A sad smile finds its way onto your face, and a single tear falls from your eye. You wipe it away immediately and take a breath. 
Once you slip on the outfit, you take a look at your appearance in the full length mirror that hangs on your wall. You take in the way the clothes fit on your body. The sweater hangs a little big on your body, but the color flatters your skin tone perfectly. The baggy jeans hug your waist and hips as if there were a pair of strong arms there. You turn your body, looking at the way the jeans make your ass look round and plump. The rips cup the bottom of your cheeks, showing a sliver of soft skin. You just know Chris will get a kick out of them. 
You venture out of the bedroom and into the living room where your friends are. You stand in front of the couch, catching their attention, four pairs of various shades of deep brown roaming your figure. You can’t help but feel your ears get warm as they just stare at you. Seungmin is the first to speak, and you are expecting a smartass comment. 
“Wow, hyung, you actually have stylish clothes? I never would have guessed,” the chestnut haired male lets out an unattractive snort, earning an elbow to the side from Felix. 
“Be nice to him! He looks really good!” Felix says, defending you with a cute pout on his face. Seungmin sends a glare at Felix, holding his throbbing side. 
“I am being nice! I complimented the way he’s dressed!” Seungmin retorts, turning his gaze back to his hyung. Seungmin would rather die than actually compliment you, or anybody for that matter, that’s just how your dynamic is with the younger male. 
“Innie, you and Lix did a really good job with the outfit. Where exactly did you find these clothes, though?” You ask, tilting your head to the right slightly, your hair falling in front of your face. “I don’t recall buying either of these items, if I’m honest.”
“Lix actually found them in the corner of your closet, the tags were still on them, hyung.” Jeongin says matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You just shake your head and chuckle. Leave it to Jeongin and Felix to find something out of thin air. 
“Well, thanks you guys, I actually like this outfit a lot,” You say, a genuine smile on your face. 
“Honestly, hyung,” Hyunjin starts, holding his phone up to take a selfie, “You could leave your hair as it is, I have a feeling it’s just going to get messed up by the end of the night anyways.” He says, making a valid point. “Besides, the messy look is what drives people crazy, trust me.” 
You take Hyunjin’s words into consideration. Would you and Chris actually do anything tonight? A part of you hopes that you do, but on the other hand, you kind of feel like it’s a desperate move. As if he could read your mind, Felix speaks up. 
“Hyung, whatever you’re thinking, stop,” He starts, crossing his arms. “Whether you guys do it again or not, doesn’t matter. What matters is that Chris definitely likes you enough to ask you out on a date, instead just being fuck buddies.” 
“I guess so, I just don’t want him to think that I agreed to the date because of the sex, but it’s definitely a plus.” You say, ears warming up at your sudden confession. Talking about such intimate things with your closest friends shouldn’t be weird, because you often tell each other about your sexual endeavors, but you can’t help but get a little flustered. It’s not everyday that you guys are talking about the latest person you’ve hooked up with, but you always feel like a parent finding out their children aren’t innocent virgins. 
“It’ll all go well, hyung,” Felix says, his words making you feel a little more relaxed. Felix knows you like an open book that he’s read a million times. Felix must have a radar that goes off when he feels like his hyung is about to spiral into overdrive. “We’ll stay here during the date and if it doesn’t go well, at least you’ll have plenty of shoulders to cry on.” Felix finishes speaking, flashing you one of his bright smiles that makes his gorgeous brown eyes disappear behind his lids. 
“I hope you’re stocked up on tissues, crybaby hyung,” Seungmin pipes up from his spot on the couch, his body being squashed by Hyunjin, who is laid out on top of the male. You roll your eyes and shake your head. Although Seungmin makes you want to commit violent crimes, you know that Seungmin means well. You check your phone, looking at the time. You have plenty of time to freak out before you have to head to Chris' apartment. 
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Chris is freaking out. He’s going absolutely feral. He stares at the third failed beef wellington. He lets out a heavy sigh before grabbing his phone, calling the one person who actually knows something about cooking. 
“Oh, this better be good,” Minho’s light voice comes through the speaker, a humorous tilt in his voice. “Did you end up canceling on him because he’s ‘just so pretty, Minho!!’” Minho’s laugh fills Chris’ ears, making the blonde roll his eyes. He’ll let Minho have his fun for now. 
“Very funny, you must think you’re sooo hilarious.” Chris says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He really doesn’t have time for Minho’s silly little scorpio games, he wants to impress his long time crush so desperately, and Minho is quite literally the only person who can help (he doesn’t dare ask Jisung or Changbin, that’s off the table, not even an option). 
“I actually don’t think I’m hilarious,” Minho replies, and Chris already knows what the younger male is going to say. “I know I’m hilarious.” 
“Yes, yes, you're the funniest person in the world. Now can you please help me?” Chris can’t help the warmth that crawls up his neck. He can’t help the blatant desperation in his voice. He hates asking for help of any kind, genuinely believing that he can do things on his own. This situation is different, though. He wants to make sure this date is absolutely perfect for you. 
Chris doesn’t want to look like a loser in front of the male he’s been crushing on since they both entered the company so many years ago. Sporting large glasses and your hair in a shorter style, you looked like the nerdy boy next door in a cheesy rom-com movie. Or the innocent member of an idol boy group. You didn’t really radiate the same confidence that you do now, your body language no different than an animal on edge. You often spoke in a soft tone, your voice easily getting lost in conversation. As the years went on, you became more comfortable in yourself, and you carried yourself completely differently. You ditched the chunky glasses for a pair of contacts (sometimes you  would sport thin wire glasses, and Chris swears his heart would leap out of his chest cavity every time the two of you happened to lock eyes), and you let your hair grow out. You had friends, you were smiling more. You could easily command a room by your presence alone. You went from a timid, almost invisible person, to someone who refuses to be walked all over like a doormat, and Chris falls more in love with you each time. 
“Holy shit, you sound desperate. What’s going on?” Minho pipes up from the other side of the phone, his playful tone being thrown out of the window. Minho might be the friend who jokes around too much, and is hardly ever serious, but he can always tell when something isn’t right with his friends (Jisung calls it his “Lino Sense” and Minho melts when Jisung points this out.).
“I’m making beef wellington for Y/N and it’s not going well. I’ve made it three times already, and I'm so close to losing my damn mind, Minho.” Chris says, his words jumbling together, and Minho can hear him huffing from how fast he was speaking. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Chris’ voice trails off, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 
“Alright, give me, like, five minutes,” Minho says, and Chris can hear the jingle of keys in the background. Was Minho really coming over to help? Chris could kiss the heavens above him. 
“Ohmygod Min, you’re a lifesaver, I could kiss you,” Chris cries out, feeling the stress leave his body as quick as it came. 
“No thanks, Chris. We’ve done that once and we both hated it,” Minho says, shivering as he remembers the time he had kissed his best friend and how quickly he realized he was not attracted to the older male in that way. “Save the kissing for Y/N, yeah?” 
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, uh, see you soon.” Chris feels his face get warm, unable to keep his mind off the way your lips had felt on his just a few hours ago. He wants to shove his face in a pillow and scream while kicking his feet like a teenager in the 80s movies he watched with his parents. 
Just as he promised, Minho barged into Chris’ apartment, his hands carrying a bag with a logo matching the convenience store’s just down the street. Minho looks at the blonde, taking in his appearance. His clothes are covered in various ingredients, and Minho can quite literally see carrot shavings in Chris’ blonde tresses. 
“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do, Channie,” Minho says, catching Chris’ attention at the nickname. It isn’t often that his friends use his nickname, and it catches him off guard each time. “You are gonna go and take a long, hot, shower, and I’m gonna make the beef wellington for you.” 
Chris’ eyes go wide. He just might cry right now. Minho is his savior, a real knight in shining armor. Although, this knight is wearing sweatpants and a large shirt. Close enough. Chris pulls his friend into a hug, not exactly knowing how to thank him. Minho seems to get the idea, because he pats Chris’ back with a breathy laugh. 
“Alright, loverboy, go shower. You smell like raw beef and desperation.” There’s the Lee Minho that Chris knows and loves dearly. With a laugh, Chris makes his way to his bedroom, opening his dresser drawers and taking a peek inside. 
Black, black, black, and even more black. He huffs at his lack of color wardrobe. Of course, there’s a bit of white and gray in there, but other than that, it’s just… black. He closes the drawer and goes to his closet. There has to be something a little colorful in there, right?
Chris lets out a triumphant noise after digging deep in his closet for about three minutes. He tosses the deep red shirt onto his bed, a gift from his grandmother when he went to visit her in Australia about two years ago. He really hopes it still fits. Ever since his last trip to his homeland, Chris has hit the gym with Changbin and Jisung, the three of them bulking up rather quickly. Especially Changbin. Chris grabs his best pair of skinny jeans, a pair of black (are we even surprised?) jeans with various words painted on them. Once he tosses the jeans on his bed, he steps into his bathroom to take a shower. 
As he steps out of the steamy shower, the smell of meat hits his nose. Chris swears he starts drooling at the smell. It smells ten times better than his three attempts combined. He quickly slips on his clothes and takes a look in the mirror. 
Oh. The shirt, well, certainly fits. Maybe a little too well. It’s pretty tight, the sleeves wrapping around his biceps nice and snug. The fabric stretches a little across his chest, showing the outline of his impressive pecs. He just chuckles and shakes his head, making his way to Minho. 
Minho’s eyes fall on Chris as the male enters the kitchen. He gives a whistle and an approving nod. 
“Looks like all that working out has paid off, huh?” MInho says, busy stirring some sort of sauce in a pot. “I just have a feeling Y/N will jump your bones immediately.”
“As much as I would love that, that’s not exactly my goal here,” Chris says, leaning over on the counter. “I want to actually make sure he has a good night with me, and if it gets intimate, then so be it.” 
“Wow, you’re way more whipped than I thought.” Minho says, fake gagging as he continues cooking. He acts like he hates romance but deep down, he genuinely wishes for a relationship. 
“I don’t want to hear you talk. I have dirt on you, my friend.” 
After Minho finishes cooking, he bids Chris goodbye, demanding that he gets the tea on how everything went. Left alone with his thoughts, Chris decides to tidy a little before you show up. He sprays the living room area with some light freshener, making sure to spray his couch as well. 
Just as he was done tidying up around his living room and shutting the door to his bedroom, a notification from his phone shakes him out of his cleaning spree trance. A text message from ‘Y/N <;3’ stares back at him. 
‘Hey, uh… I don’t know which apartment building is yours… I think I’m lost’
Chris can’t help but chuckle at the text. He quickly types a response and decides to stand outside his apartment to help you find the right place. He closes his eyes and feels the soft breeze of the night blow through his still-drying locs. He prays to every single god that this night goes smoothly. This is his only chance to completely swoop you off your feet. 
He hears footsteps approaching him, so he opens his eyes. He feels his breath hitch as his eyes fall on the male standing beside him. You’re standing there in all your glory, and you give him a small smile and a wave. The light makeup makes your E/C eyes pop, the black liner accentuating the shape of your eyes perfectly. And is that a soft red tint on your lips? Yeah, poor Chris isn’t going to survive the night.
Chris finally snaps out of his lovesick daze and gives you one of his dazzling smiles. “Hey, I’m glad you made it! Even if you got a little lost.” He chuckles. You give him a shy smile and a nod. 
“Yeah, I hope I’m not late, the makeup was kind of a last second decision.” 
“I think it looks really good on you. Let’s go inside, I just finished dinner.” Chris’ hand wraps around your waist from behind, guiding you into his apartment. 
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The two of you finish dinner after a while and are nursing glasses of cocktails made by you just using ingredients you found in Chris’ kitchen. The two of you are laughing as soft music from Chris’ playlist plays in the background. You’re both facing each other as you tell embarrassing stories from your childhood and various college shenanigans. 
“There’s no way you swam naked in the campus’ fountain! I can’t imagine you doing anything like that!” Chris’ eyes are wide as he looks at you after you tell him about one of your many drunken moments in college. 
“Yeah, I was always down to do crazy dares, as long as I had a couple shots in me first.” You reply,, setting your now empty glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Your gaze falls on Chris again, your eyes flitting down to Chris’ lips for the millionth time that night. You so desperately want to feel those very lips kissing all over your body. 
“If you want me to kiss you, you have to use your words, pretty boy.”  
Your entire body warms up at the way Chris speaks to you. Firm, but not demanding, like he’s going at your pace, afraid to scare you off. You waste no time, opening your mouth to speak. 
“Chris, will you please kiss me like crazy, and never stop even if I can’t breathe anymore?” You say, your body moving to plant itself down on Chris’ lap. You wrap your arms around Chris’ neck, the two of you leaning in to connect your lips together. 
This kiss is totally different from the one you shared in Chris’ office. This kiss is softer and contains feelings that go way beyond just lust. Of course the lust is there, but it’s more of a soft lust. Your lips mold together with Chris’ as if they were made to, your noses slightly bumping together, and your tongues gliding against the other, tasting sweet alcohol. Chris’ hands slowly move from your hips all the way down to your ass. Chris is pleasantly surprised when he feels warm skin, and slips his hands inside the rips of your jeans. You jump a little, feeling Chris’ cold hands on your bare skin. 
Just as Chris pulls away to plant kisses and bites all over your neck, a phone notification makes the both of you pause and look at each other. You share a confused look before the two of you are grabbing your phones to see who got the text. You groan when you look at your screen. 
Why is your (very very recent) ex boyfriend texting you to meet up and talk things out? Did he not get the message this morning when you broke up? Before you have a chance to type a reply to Shinwon, Chris’ voice stops you. 
“Hey, what’s so important on your phone that you stopped kissing me?” There’s a cute pout on Chris’ face, and his eyes are glued to your face. He doesn’t appreciate someone interrupting this little make out session. 
“Well, it’s my… ex boyfriend,” you say nervously, not wanting to look up and see the expression on Chris’ face. Would he be upset? Disappointed? 
“Is he bothering you? I can tell him off for you. He’s kind of messing up our night, here.” Chris says, sounding completely serious, taking you by surprise. He… wasn’t upset that your ex was ruining the romantic night? 
“I mean, you don’t have to, but maybe…” you finally look up at Chris with a mischievous glint in his pools of your E/C specks and swirls. 
“Maybe what, pretty boy?” 
“Mark my neck and take a picture. I’m sure he’ll get the idea.” 
Chris does not hesitate for a second before his mouth is on your neck, his teeth biting and nibbling all over the soft flesh, while his tongue glides over the bites, softly soothing the delicious burn. The soft noises that come out of your mouth lets Chris know that he’s doing something right. The noises get louder as Chris gets closer to the spot just under your ear. This must be your most sensitive spot. Deciding to test out his theory, Chris bites down on the spot, earning a beautiful whine from you. 
Once Chris decides that he’s marked you enough, he takes the phone out of your hand and quickly snaps a picture. He sends the photo to Shinwon, and types a quick message:
‘Sorry, mate. Looks like he’s a tad bit busy right now. Maybe you shouldn’t text him again, yeah?’
Once the message is sent, he tosses your phone away after turning the ringer off, hoping the device won’t interrupt you guys for the remainder of the night. He turns his attention back to you, who is looking at him, lust clouding and swimming in your eyes. The sight makes Chris’ heart swell, knowing that those eyes are directed at him and him only. This is everything he’s ever wanted, he feels like all of his prayers have been answered. He plans on making the moment last, not wanting to waste a single moment. 
Chris suddenly stands up, his arms wrapped around you as he lifts you up. You let out a shocked noise, your legs automatically wrapping around the older man’s waist. 
“Warn me next time, Chris! You can’t just flaunt your strength by picking me up!” You slightly slap at his back, allowing yourself to be carried to what you assume is Chris’ bedroom. 
Chris just laughs as he walks to his bed until his lower thighs meet the edge. He semi-carefully tosses you onto the bed, staring down at the way your body bounces on the bed. You just pout up at Chris, offended that you were just tossed like a sack of potatoes. 
“Sorry, pretty boy, I had to move us to the bed. I don’t like when the couch gets messy.” He shrugs, speaking with such nonchalance, it kind of surprises you. 
“So, I’m not the first person you’ve wined and dined?” you know you’re not, you just want to mess with Chris a little bit. Chris isn’t the only one allowed to tease around here. 
Chris lets out a snort, and he climbs on top of the bed, hovering over your frame. He leans down and places a soft peck on your lips. “Would you believe me if I said you’re the first?” 
Now those words really catch you off guard. That’s impossible. Chris, the very definition of a god, has never brought anyone home? There’s no way. 
“I’ve only ever had one person on my mind. For many years..” Chris says, and the words linger in the back of your  mind. Chris couldn’t possibly be talking about you, right? Why would Chris like someone like you? You are known to be unapproachable, the  natural scowl on your face driving people away from you (besides your current group of friends). 
“I know what you’re thinking: you’re wondering why I like you. I’ll be honest, I’ve liked you ever since the moment we both stepped into the JYPE building all those years ago.” 
Now you feel like an idiot. You could’ve had the hottest man alive as your  boyfriend, but you felt that Chris was more into… women. You really fumbled the bag on this one. You can hear Seungmin cackling at you in your head. 
“So, you’re telling me that I could have had you all to myself but you never spoke up about it?” You cock one of your eyebrows as you stare up at the man on top of you. Chris looks amazing from this angle, his strong arms next to your head, ultimately caging you in. “I had to date other people while my mind was focused on you all this time.” 
“I’m sorry for not speaking up sooner, I really had no idea how to approach you without things getting awkward,” Chris explains, obviously referring to the time the two of you attempted to have a conversation at the company Christmas party. 
You give him a cheeky grin. “Why is that? Were you intimidated by my good looks?” You joke, tilting your head to the side as your eyes roam over Chris’ sharp facial features. 
Chris gives you a sheepish smile, his eyes flitting from side to side to avoid your gaze. “Actually, yeah,” he says, a short laugh coming from him.
Your eyes go wide in surprise. Now this is news to you. You always saw Chris as someone with confidence spewing out of every part of his entire being. 
(“Hyung, he’s a man who walks like he’s six foot tall, when he’s actually below average. How much confidence could he possibly have?” “Seungmin, disrespectfully shut the fuck up.”)
“Christopher, if you don’t kiss me and take off my clothes right now, I might go insane.”
This is too much, it feels way too good to even be real. You and Chris are both naked, and Chris is buried in between your plush thighs. Chris’ fingers are digging into your soft muscle as he holds them apart. (As much as he would love to be crushed in between those thighs, he needs to get his dick wet first.) You let out a delicious whine, your back arching as Chris’ tongue slips and slides all around your length.You’re drooling all down your chin as you shake and writhe under the intense pleasure.You’ve  already been denied an orgasm once, Chris squeezing the life out of your length tightly with a shake of his head and a pitiful look. 
Chris pulls away and looks up at you, adoring the fucked out look on your face. He wipes his mouth and moves his body flush with yours, his tongue coming out of his mouth to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. The two of you swap spit for a few minutes before Chris is pulling away, lifting his body up to rummage through his bedside drawer. He pulls out two items, placing them to his right. He sits on his heels in between your spread thighs, and he grabs your thighs, pulling your body close until your lower halves are flush against one another. 
Chris picks up the small bottle that is sitting at his side, he pops the cap open and allows an even amount of the liquid to coat his fingers. The soft smell of vanilla hits your nose and you smile to yourself. Chris brings his hands in between your cheeks, his fingers circling around your rim, before one of the slim digits pushes past your hole. You let out a soft sigh as his finger slides in and out of you. 
Soon enough, a second finger pushes past your ring of muscle, joining the first one, the digits stretching you open perfectly. You toss your head back against the pillow as Chris’ fingers rub and prod at that spot deep inside you. Once he deems you stretched enough, he slips his fingers out, wiping them on his bare chest. He grabs that familiar gold package and tears it open with his teeth, not once breaking eye contact with your lust-filled E/C eyes. He moves back just a little, rolling the rubber onto his thick length. Grabbing a pillow, he places it under your lower back, your hips being raised just a bit, also giving better access to your awaiting heat. 
He pumps his dick in his hand a few times before he’s sliding the tip into you. He lets out a shaky sigh as he slowly slides all the way in, allowing himself to bottom out. Chris looks at your face, the sight of your eyes closed tight and your mouth open, short puffs of air exiting. He smirks to himself, feeling proud that he’s the one making you feel like this. Once he feels like you have adjusted to him, he snaps his hips forward, meeting yours in the middle. 
He moves his body so he’s hovering over you once again, not once stopping his thrust, keeping at the same pace. He leans down and captures your lips, swallowing the noises coming out of your lips. After a little bit of kissing, he picks up the pace, the tip of his dick hitting that tasty spot dead on with every thrust. You’re going crazy under him, chanting his name like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. Chris loves the way his name falls past your lips, it makes him want to tattoo the sound in his brain to be replayed over and over.
(“That sounds absolutely stupid, why are you like this, hyung?”)
“Chris,” You pant out, your chest heaving up and down as your hips start to shake from the overwhelming pleasure you’re being succumbed to. “I’m close, so close!”
Chris just chuckles, grabbing your legs and throwing them over each of his shoulders. This new angle allows him to absolutely drill into you with sharp, quick thrusts. He pounds into you, his own hips beginning to stutter and skip, chasing his own release. 
“Come on, pretty boy, show me how good I’m making you feel,” Chris pants out, his chest and neck a bright shade of red as he tosses his head back, high pitched moans falling from his lips. Chris brings his hand to your length, jerking it in time with the thrusts of his hips. It isn't much longer before Chris spills into the condom, curses leaving his lips. You end up following not long after him, the white liquid coating Chris’ hand and your stomach. The two of you stay like that for a moment, coming down from such an intense moment. You let out a breathy laugh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair sticking to your forehead. Chris lets his heavy body fall on top of you, causing you to huff. You wrap your arms around him and place tiny pecks on his bare shoulders. 
“That was so much better than this morning,” Chris says, his voice slightly muffled by your neck. You agree with him, this morning was definitely rushed and desperate.
 “So, since we’ve already gone to second base, why don’t we make this official?”
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auspicioustidings · 6 months
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What would the 141s college degrees be if they went to school
Ok so a bit of a change to prompt, but I think Soap and Gaz go to university while Price and Ghost go to college. For context college here is further education while university is higher education (eg uni is degree level).
Soap has got to be some sort of chemistry mechanics dual degree and not one person actually knows that. Like he's a bit of a party boy, on the football team and generally comes off as super laid back so nobody would guess that he is absolutely top of his class in a very difficult course. The uni ran their first mini highland games purely because they knew anything that he was doing in a kilt was going to do well and it outperformed expectations because the chance to see John MacTavish caber toss was not something anyone was passing up.
He knows Gaz because they are on the football team together. He is the opposite of Soap, everyone assumes he is doing some super technical degree because he is just so clever, but he's actually nowhere near the sciences and is somewhere in the literature department. He put the Scots poetry module to good use and was a menace for a semester with how he kept making Soap blush by coming out these beautiful romantic lines in Scots.
The archnemesis of the football team in this uni the rugby team in the college that has a campus right next to theirs because both teams do massively well. Is part of it because Soap and Gaz bristle when they hear people fawning over Riley and Price instead of them? Maybe a little. They think it's ridiculous, football is the superior sport to them and they hate that at their games some people are wearing rugby shirts thinking it's still showing support because the uni and college are the same area. It's even worse because Riley and Price do not view them as the rivals for fame and adoration that they should! They are always really nice to them and come watch their games and Simon keeps offering to spot for Soap when they're in the gym and Price brings Gaz soup when he's sick :(
Ghost is doing hairdressing. This is fully from one throwaway comment from Tommy (he cuts his brothers hair) that he's good at it and he wishes he could do Beth's because her salon trips cost a fortune and while she loves getting her hair done she doesn't do it often because of that. Simon Riley is such a fucking family man that he runs with that, thinking nothing of dropping all the time and money required just so he can make his sister in laws day a little better. And if he can do his mums hair as well? Even better.
Price is doing a bunch of night classes for woodworking and welding. He owns his own place where he runs classes but likes to make sure he keeps up to date with any new techniques by attending new courses when they pop up. He's a favourite of the college because he's been doing that for years and has taught a couple of workshops for them. His workshops have a massive waiting list.
Ghost and Price are laid back and on the rugby team because they enjoy the game. They see Soap and Gaz as these hot-headed young men with a lot of heart and are oblivious to the fact that while they view them as mates, Soap and Gaz think there is a bitter rivalry happening. After all Gaz always let's Simon practice on his hair and he seems to enjoy it? Like he always sighs in such contentment when he's getting his hair washed. And Soap has started attending Price's home shop for some classes! Although Price is sort of confused because the man doesn't seem to be paying attention half of the time to the actual project he is supposed to be doing (of course he isn't, he's busy going bright red anytime Price rolls his sleeves up).
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ya-killin-me-smalls · 5 months
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A while ago you made some Deimos x Teammate headcanons, and they were all absolutely WONDERFUL
Would it be possible to get some Hank x Teammate headcanons? 👀
absolutely!!
headcanons under the cut
2BHank:
obviously gotta start with these two, respect for the elderly and all that
- divorced but it's complicated
- they started out as roommates while Doc was in college and Hank, unbeknownst to Doc at the time, was just getting started at being a menace to society
- they were close. a little too close. but nothing ever came of it aside from a mutual pining
- when Doc began working for the Agency/Nexus it drew a hard line between them. both believed they were doing what was right and that the other was a lost cause
- it turned into a physical fight and Hank did in fact leave Doc for dead
- he got better dw
- fast forward a few years, Doc has swapped sides and is incapable of admitting he was wrong
- Hank is not even a little bit sorry because in his mind it was deserved at the time
- they're different people now though and they both know that. the past is in the past. the world keeps turning
- their relationship has moved beyond platonic since but it's still complicated. they don't have the luxury of deep "what are we" conversations or quality time spent together unless Hank is injured
- regardless, Hank spends whatever downtime he does have in Doc's personal space. he's the type of guy that will just loom over you silently while you're working and patiently wait for Doc to pay attention to him
- Doc still keeps things professional for the sake of professionalism. his guard is only ever truly down when they've retired for the night and he can give Hank every drop of attention he craves
- Hank finds physical touch grounding so on days when his head is a mess and all his thoughts sound like they're underwater, he'll drape himself over Doc's shoulders and try to map out the sensation of him for a while
- "Wimbleton" is as close to a pet name as Doc will ever get. if he uses Hank's first name it's usually when he's mad/annoyed
- Hank doesn't necessarily bite Doc but he's got this weird form of cute aggression that makes him want to put his teeth on him
Hankmos:
yeah I already did this in the last post so what
- their first meeting was the equivalent of finding a wet kitten at the scene of a car accident
- Deimos hadn't yet made a name for himself but was well on his way, torching every stitch of AAHW property he could get his hands on (pyrokinesis Deimos my beloved)
- Hank was sent to raid a cloning facility when it happened. the entire place had gone up in flames and was little more than smoldering debris by the time he got there. he was there to kill everything that moved so of course he had to parse through said debris for any survivors
- what he found was a scrawny fucked up little dude passed out at the center of it all, completely unharmed, the only sign he'd been involved in the fire being the singed remains of his clothes
- interesting enough for Hank to not kill him despite being visibly a clone. instead he wraps Deimos's tiny ass up in his trenchcoat and brings him back to base
- Deimos still wears said trenchcoat because he's a fanboy and nothing will change that
- which also means he glues himself to Hank's hip from day one, not being a nuisance but always in the vicinity, tags along on whatever missions he can, asks Hank to train him in CQB
- and of course Hank grows fond of Deimos. how could he not? his rambling is pleasant background noise that helps keep Hank in the moment, he has a nice smile and laughs a lot, and it doesn't take long for him to become a worthy opponent for Hank
- Deimos goes out of his way to impress Hank. whether that means making stupid jokes to try and get a laugh out of him or showing off on the battlefield at every opportunity, his efforts know no bounds. it makes his heart flutter in a weird way whenever he gets those little signals of approval
- their dynamic in terms of combat is very clean cut leader/follower. Deimos knows how to operate independently but Hank's orders are executed swiftly and without question
- a lot of their communication is done through body language and micro-expressions. Hank is incredibly perceptive of those subtle shifts and for Deimos it comes naturally
- neither is keen on eye contact which works out perfectly, Hank because of the 'tism and Deimos because it feels like someone is trying to square up
- I feel like romantic cannibalism in the literal sense but as a metaphor would shit them so well. there's so much want between them and it's like they can't ever satisfy it. simply touching isn't enough. they need to grab. they need to hold. they need to squeeze. they could become each other and it still wouldn't be enough
- on the outside they play it cool for the most part obviously but the tension is always there. everyone can feel it
Hankford:
woefully underappreciated
- these two have the same vibe and demo and soldier tbh
- Sanford's whole thing is blowing shit up and setting things on fire
- Hank's thing is killing people in increasingly dramatic and violent ways
- combine the two, what more could you want out of a ship
- most of their initial bonding happens over explosions and combat tactics, as well as the inherently homoerotic act of patching each other up during battle
- after a particularly high risk/high reward mission, standing amongst the rubble of what was once a weapons factory and still high on adrenaline and dopamine, Sanford grabs Hank by the lapels of his coat and kisses him
- oh to make out with someone in the aftermath of an explosion
- these two lack a balancing factor. neither needs to be protected by the other. neither has ever been chill a day in their life. both are itching to destroy something at any given moment. they hype each other up and egg on every OSHA violation in the book
- Hank does feel protective towards Sanford because that's just in his nature, but he doesn't feel like he needs to hover or have eyes on him constantly. Sanford has dragged his sorry bleeding ass out of trouble more than once, after all
- Sanford is the king of PDA and they have to establish pretty early on that Hank isn't comfortable with others seeing that much of his private life. holding hands is as far as it goes if others are around
- alone? Sanford can't keep his hands to himself. his favorite thing is to dip Hank when he least expects it just to make him blush
- Hank isn't sure how to reciprocate at first. his hands are meant for crushing and tearing and Sanford is so gentle and tender. it's a learning curve and the way his hands shake when he's excited doesn't help
- they work it out over time together though, Sanford making an effort to lead affection and letting Hank sort out what he likes along the way
- Sanford is Hank's weighted blanket I take no criticism on this
- Sanford calls Hank "Doll". Hank incorrectly interprets this as sarcasm because he can't imagine someone associating him with something delicate or cute
- neither of them is allowed anywhere near the kitchen. not because they can't cook but because neither of them has any impulse control and the microwave will be blown up "for science"
- Sanford, ever observant and a little obsessive, begins mapping out Hank's behaviors and mental state as best as he can. he isn't surprised that Hank is a little fucked up, but there's a lot more going on in their than expected. and Hank, uncharacteristically, does open up to Sanford about the dissociation and memory problems
- Hank has outlawed the word babygirl because it makes him flustered angry
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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year
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The Happiest Day of Her Life
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»
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SYNOPSIS He'll always smile if it's for you.
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Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Genre: angst Warnings: heavy drinking, unhappy ending, heartbreak Word Count: <;1k
P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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“I do.” 
You smile at Minho as you are both pronounced married; your heart has never been more full. He giddily dips you back when he kisses you, making you forget the entire world around you. You don’t notice the tightness of your menacing designer high heels. You don’t hear the thunderous applause from all of your swooning guests. You don’t notice your best friend’s heart breaking while he claps louder than anyone else in the crowd.
Hyunjin watches as you marry the love of your life, looking like the radiant and joyful bride that he always knew you would be. He just never imagined you’d be someone else’s and not his. You were each other’s first loves, but that love couldn’t last on both ends, eventually fading away on yours. You cherish him as your best friend, not the man you loved so long ago, and that’s why he’s here. After all, he’d watched as you fell in love again, with someone better than him in every way. He’d listened as you giddily told him about Minho, assuming that time had healed all wounds. He’d congratulated you as you showed off your shimmering diamond ring, forgetting that once upon a time, you had told Hyunjin you would marry him.
The entire ceremony was stunning, especially the vows that you and Minho had handwritten for each other. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd. Except for Hyunjin’s, ironically. The night before, he’d left the rehearsal dinner early, faking a headache and getting stupid drunk in his hotel room. An hour later, he sat slumped next to the toilet bowl and cried his heart out until morning. 
When the best man, Jisung, had banged on his door, reminding him to get off of the bathroom floor and get ready for the wedding he could not miss, he had looked into the mirror and promised himself that he would not shed one more tear. Not until tomorrow, because tomorrow, Hyunjin could lose it. But today, he will keep it together, for you. He will be happy for you, because this is the happiest day of your life. And he cannot ruin it.
You always wanted a beach wedding, and you finally have it, as you dance on the soft sand in your new husband’s arms. There are dainty festival lights strung up everywhere, and the mix of sweet music and the pleasant chatter is absolutely perfect. As you lean your head against Minho’s chest, serenely closing your eyes while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, Hyunjin knows he can walk away.
So he does, wandering away from the reception and further along the beach, until he can’t hear the voices anymore. He finds a stray log washed up on the sand and sits on it, watching the sun slowly set. The hours pass, as the festivities go on and its lights twinkle in the distance, but Hyunjin stays there, quietly observing the roll of gentle waves.
The vibration of his watch snaps Hyunjin out of his reverie, signaling the end of the day. Midnight. Hyunjin lifts his head to look up at the moon, observing how even she had the stars in the sky to keep her company, unlike him. The pain is overwhelming, coming out of Hyunjin in a shattering sob. Finally, he lets the tears he has been holding back roll down his cheeks, uninhibited and raw.
Back at the party, you and Minho ask around if anyone has seen Hyunjin, both wanting to take photographs with him and preserve another beautiful moment of the day on paper. But Hyunjin will never forget what this day felt like, because today was the day that the love of his life was the happiest he had ever seen her. And that will be enough for him.
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»
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TAGLIST @chansburgah (please message to be added!)
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©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.
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tamsong · 1 year
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kotlc characters most to least likely to commit vehicular manslaughter
this is based on a post about stranger things so if you made that and ur seeing this ily
1. keefe. does not have his license. hit a mailbox on his first time driving and his dad refused to take him out anymore after that. alvar tried to teach him after that but after keefe accidentally skidded into a cornfield on a country road and scratched up alvar’s car, he decided to just Stop before further endangering anyone’s life. king of public transportation tbh
2. linh. this might be surprising, including to her, because linh thinks she’s good at driving but is absolutely not. either drives 20 under the speed limit or speeds 20 over. gets distracted easily and almost never has her eyes on the road, so she’d probably commit a hit and run and not even notice. somehow hasn’t done this yet.
3. sophie. failed her license test twice and only passed the third time because the instructor took pity on her. absolute menace on the roads, gets extremely stressed when there’s any amount of other cars around and loses most control of the vehicle. would be higher but she’s less likely to commit vehicular manslaughter and more likely to get rear ended by braking too quickly or jump the curb on a too-sharp turn.
4. biana. has gotten multiple tickets for distracted driving because of her attempts to talk to her passengers, apply mascara, and put her hair up all at once, not even mentioning how she blasts her music at eardrum-shattering volumes and can never hear when she’s being honked at. causer of road rage. doesn’t speed though so at least has that going for her.
5. fitz. neither of the younger vacker siblings are the drivers of the family. fitz drives normally until he makes a risky decision like plowing through an intersection right as the light turns red, or weaving between cars on the highway. suffers from murderous road rage whenever anyone else does these things. has invented at least a dozen new death threats. would not commit vehicular manslaughter but rather vehicular murder.
6. tam. decent driver but seems even better due to the vast difference of skills between him and linh. pretty confident in his ability, but does have the tendency to get way into his music, have to swerve to make his turn last minute, and then white-knuckle the wheel for the rest of the trip. otherwise pretty safe.
7. marella. you’d expect her to be worse, honestly, but marella learned to drive early in order to take her mom places after her head injury. takes great care of her passengers. however, when alone, marella’s notorious for texting and driving. claims she’s mastered the technique because she hasn’t fucked up yet. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.)
8. maruca. pretty safe driver, doesn’t do anything more egregious than a bit of tasteful speeding. unlikely to hit anyone because she stays unnecessarily far from the people in front of her.
9. dex. capable driver, probably because his dad has been illegally teaching him since age 12 in the slurps and burps parking lot.
10. wylie. very responsible, never goes more than three over the speed limit. the only reason he isn’t last is because Not being the one driving stresses him out so badly and he will yell at the person in the driver’s seat when they fuck up, which will probably make them fuck up even worse, causing an accident by proxy. for this reason he’s almost always the driver.
11. stina. she has to control rowdy horses all the time at home so a car is easy peasy. never give her aux though because she always defaults to country music
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