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#don't be rude just because you're feeling superior
kaicubus · 1 year
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Distraction | Xavier T.
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warnings ✩° : mutual pining, angry(?) confession, teasing, competition, cursing, rivals to lovers, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old, fluff but also a tad spice.
pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader
premise ✩° :  on the day of the annual poe cup, you're put against your academic rival, xavier thorpe, and you don't want to lose. however, he has other plans of  getting the upper hand with you and knows exactly how to get his way. hes knocking out two birds with one stone, if you will.  
word count ✩° : 3.4k
authors note ✩° : this was done in literally a few hours bc i’m obsessed and it needs to be addressed.
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The rules were simple.
They always have been. Follow what the people in charge told you and don't disappoint. If you disappoint them then you disappoint the whole community and what good are you if you're a disappointment. It was hard not to see school, ground zero for being the best, as a competition. In fact, you thrived working towards a goal of being superior than everyone else; maybe it was due to the fact that no matter what was put in front of you, you could understand it and write it off as done as soon as you wrote your name. However, there were some things you didn't get at times and that frustrated you.
Over the time you’ve known him, it’s been test after test, assignment after assignment, obscure experiment after obscure experiment to prove to this seemingly effortlessly perfect creature that you’re better than him, only for you to miss his mark by one. point.
“Maybe you should think less about being better than me and more about the material, Y/n.” Xavier would say, “But don’t worry, you ALMOST got the same score as me.”
It wasn't his snarky comments or obviously stronger memory than you that made you over the top angry, no, it was the fact that you couldn't understand how he was doing it. Nothing made sense and the feeling of not knowing made looking into his stupid hazel eyes, gazing at his sharp and defined side profile, and wispy long hair all the more annoying. Everything has to have answers. So why did he make your throat tighten every time you spoke to him? Or your face flush with dark shades of pink and red? It had to be anger. There was no other explanation.
All of the rivalry would eventually lead you both up to the annual Poe Cup. A boat race amongst four teams, five members from each house all stuck together on their respective hand crafted boats each representing a different Edgar Allen Poe poem.
You're on The Black Cat team while Xavier’s on The Amontillado team. For a whole week you spend with your team, preparing for the race and to utterly destroy Xavier because this will finally prove to yourself that you’re good at him at something.
“You ready to beat the shit out of Xavier, Y/n?” Your friend who knows your rivalry with the guy smiles at you, “Once WE have that cup he has to realize that all he is to you, is dirt.” She was right.
“Relax, F/n, why ruin my chances with excitement when I can take all of that and shove it in his face at the very end.”
Your other team mate taps you both on your shoulders, “You guys ready? It’s almost time.” With that, you watch everyone file into their boats, Xavier included, and so you and your friend make your way into your own seats. However, just before you adjust your headband on your head, you decide to catch a glimpse of the destined losers on each side of you. Though no one else is important right now other than seeing him, so you give a side eyed glance in Xavier’s direction.
To your surprise, not only is he already looking at you, but, “Is he laughing at me?”
Your friend looks towards Xavier as well and scoffs, “Yeah,” She confirms, “Looks like they all are. Fucking clowns.”
As you chew on the inside of your cheek out of anger, a sudden whistle blows from Ms. Weems accompanied by a large megaphone that amplifies her voice as she speaks.
You can tell out of the corner of your eye that ever since your friend had rudely thrusted her middle finger into the sky for all the jesters to see, Xavier hadn't stopped looking at you. His eyes, laser focused, burned into the side of your head and it only made you more anxious for the race. You bite your lip ever so slightly and fight back the urge to look at him too.
Thankfully, you're saved by a gunshot that explodes into the air and suddenly your team gets pushed into the water.
Of all things, why should you be thinking about Xavier Thorpe and what he has to say or look at you for? All this time, you've convinced yourself that you could care less what he thinks of you. After all, the reason you're trying so hard to be better than him is the very reason that motivates you every day to get up and face him. Otherwise, you'd be locked away in your dorm with nothing to do but attend class and repeat the cycle. In a way, he was your reason to wake up.
“Y/N! Duck!” Your friend suddenly snaps you out of your mechanical like motions of rowing as hard as possible. Wasting no time, you dodge the flying axe coming your way by a hair. “What the hell?! Y/n, focus!”
“I am focused, F/n.”
“No, you're not. You got that lost look in your eyes. Stop thinking about Xavier and maybe pay attention to all the objects being thrown around at us? So you don't die, and most importantly, so we can win this for our hall?”
For the rest of the distance from the starting line to the other end of the lake, you try not to look behind you as looking behind you would only distract you from the prize. All of your team puts in their all in rowing as fast as they can together in sync, each arm pushing at the exact same second as everyone else to really glide through the water. Despite nets being tossed, siren students diving under boats and tipping them over, and very small fire crackers being thrown into other boats, three teams are left remaining to the next stage of the race. Getting the flag.
“Go go go!” F/n pushes you up, “Get the black flag. We’ll be waiting here to look out for anybody.”
Not wanting to waste anymore time, you nod and start sprinting directly into the old, creaky forest. Dry leaves crunch under your feet in threes, making their crinkles the only noise in the entire forest. That’s good, you think, that means no one else came yet. Quickly jumping over logs and rocks, you make your way to the flag destination, only to see that your black flag is missing.
“What the—”
“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind you, “Looking for something?”
The cheesy line doesn't go without an eye roll as you turn around, “Xavier.”
“You don't seem too happy to see me.” Your rival stands with a shit eating grin on his face, comically extenuated with crimson, drippy paint.
You're quick to reply, “I'm not. You took my flag which I need to win this. So hand it over, Thorpe.”
He raises his hands and allows you to charge up to him just close enough so that you're barely touching the tips of his pointed shoes with your jet black boots. “What? Who says I have your flag? I JUST got here in case you hadn't noticed.”
“I actually haven't noticed. Because why would I stop to care about where you are?”
“You seemed to care when we first started.” Xavier leans down and twists his head slightly, just enough for you to be caught off guard and step back, “I saw you looking at me.” His tone makes you shrink back.
Heat rushes to your face in a fleeting panic and almost immediately, your chest twists your rib cage hard enough to squeak out, “I WASN'T LOOKING AT YOU! YOU were looking at ME!”
Xavier raises his brows and chuckles, “I remember differently.”
Of course he has to be cocky now. “Look, Xavier. Just forget this and let me go. Your gross sweat is getting all over me.”
“Oh is that so?”
“YESNOWLETGO.”
He snickers at your flustered nature but decides to go the extra mile and tease you further, “You do realize that we all have to get back, Y/n, its kinda the whole reason why we made it here. Though it looks like its just the two of us.” He turns to both of his sides and then directs his attention back to you, “I’d say we have a little time.”
Again, you emphasize, “WE don't have time. Unlike you, I actually WANT to win. Xavier, I don't know what your deal is or why you're so obsessed with me and making me look like a complete and utter fool, but once I win this for my team, it ends. Do you understand me?”
Xavier exhales deeply, “You know, for someone who’s so high strung and smart, you're really dumb, aren't you?”
“What?”
He steps forward, causing you to back into a tree. You can feel the roughness of the tree bark as it etches its way across the backside of your suit, causing a mildly discomforting feeling that shivers throughout your skin. Before you can move forward, Xavier steps closer, basically eliminating any means of escaping.
“Why am I so obsessed with you? Is that what you think this is? Obsession?”
You look up at him to find his naturally tall stature hunched over to be at eye level with you. Surely, if anyone to walk into the scene, they’d think you two were stopping the competition just to make out. Even though Xavier’s hand is firmly pressed just between your ear and shoulder and he was just over an inch close to you so that your noses are barley touching, it’s not like that at all. Yet, at least.
“That’s what I just asked.” Your eyebrows stitch together bitterly, “Can you not hear, clown? You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch my reputation die because of you and your perfect grades and your perfect art. What makes you think you can just parade yourself around to be better than me?!” The questions leave a burning sensation in your throat.
“Reputation? Grades? Is that what this is about?”
“YES! Are you DENSE?!”
Instead of matching your violent glower, you watch as the clown leans his head to the side in laughter. His lips parting just enough so you can see his sharp teeth laugh at you too, “Y/n, did you just call me dense? What is that? An insult? At least I’m not the one who always scores lower than me.”
Embarrassment? Anger? Nervousness? Why was his laugh the thing to make you feel weak now? Maybe the first two are theories, but the third is a definite fact. Your eyes are quickly drawn in by his hazel pupils, curious and dilated as they stare back at you. For a moment, the silence between you two isnt filled with hate or rivalry, but peace. That is until he lets out a breathy laugh after getting a good look at your calm face for once.
“Y/n, cat got your tongue? Or do you just not have anything else to say to me other than ‘I hate you’ and ‘stop being better than me’?” He points a finger to your feline head accessory.
"Shut up.” You bark, “Dumb isn’t really a good insult either. You are so full of shit—"
Xavier moves closer, now toe to toe with you and just a breath away from your face.
“God, Y/n, cant you see that I like you? All this time I thought it was so obvious. I mean, how are you going to tell people you're the smartest person in the room when you cant even pick up on subtle hints that basically spell it out for you?” He says, “Or are you too busy to notice anyone other than yourself?”
His words cause your heart to pound once, twice, and before you know it you can’t hear anything but the thumping in your chest and the soft winds surrounding you both. Xavier parts his lips again, determined to give you the answers you've been so desperately searching for. 
“Do you know how fucking exhausting it is to pretend I hate you back, just to have the opportunity to talk to you?” His tone is exasperated and shallow, but he doesn't break eye contact with you, “You seriously thought all those times we got close was because I wanted to be ‘better’ than you in some subject?” Almost like he doesn't believe you, Xavier shakes his head in disapproval, “The only time Ive wanted to prove to you I'm worth something is now.”
His confession only fills your head with more questions, “That doesn't even make any sense! How can you say you didn't actually want to be better than me when that's all you did?” You feel the heat saturate into a dark pink that settles into your cheeks, “And why are you telling me all this now? Why are you so adamant on telling me that you—”
Xavier doesn't even acknowledge your questions, he just continues to hold a burning tension between you and him, focusing only on one thing.
Fuck.
Maybe its the fact hes so close, or that he told you hes liked you all this time, but right now it feels like nothings stopping you from telling him too. It just feels so right.
Before you know it, your mouth opens on its own, your bottom lip trembling for just a second. Xavier’s eyes trail down to your lips, then back into your eyes, and a small smirk pulls the corner of his ivory painted skin up.
Without another second to lose, Xavier tilts even closer than he thought he’d ever be to you and cups your cheek, finding the courage you both need to pull you into an unexpected kiss.
The pastiness of your rival’s white face paint rubs against your dewy skin as the taste of him spreads across your pallet, rough, warm, and agonizingly slow. With a gentle hand, you bunch the back of Xavier’s thin yet airy suit and fall into him, curving just enough so he can extend his hold on you.
Xavier knew that he wanted to touch you. It’s basically been his dream ever since he got close to you and seemingly hurdled himself into being your rival. But he’d never admit that. Or maybe, now he would. Gently, Xavier clasps onto your hips more carefully, securely rubbing his fingers against the skin tight latex uniform you were forced to wear which gives him enough grip to hook his desperate palms onto your body.
You break away for a second, just long enough to look at his face and how mesmerized he is by you and just how fucked you are in this downward spiral of messy feelings and requited love. Love you are much too afraid to commit to. But, Xavier pulls you back into his lips and makes you forget all of your worries, even the one you're supposed to be most worried about. 
The kiss practically captures you for what seems like an eternity, erasing all memory of the Poe Cup and time spent hating Xavier's guts only to now realize that that hate may have been fueled by a painfully simple crush. But you wouldn't admit that either. Though, now there’s no other explanation to the methods behind your madness.
Soon enough, your hands find their rightful place in his long, messy hair, scooting his jester cap off easily. Had you known his hair was this soft before? You always told yourself you didn't care but now it was too hypnotizing not to twirl your fingers in. In fact, it’s practically asking you to grab it and play with it, screaming at you to touch it, touch him.
Xavier’s hips press into yours, giving you the go ahead to adjust your position so that your thigh is comfortably resting atop his hip. The stance feels too natural to be normal, and you're both caught off guard by it. Yet, you continue to taste him and feel him up close without another thought.
Nipping at your bottom lip, you can feel Xavier let out a sigh of relief, as if kissing you has been something on his mind for years. Only half of that could be true. Still, his victory cheer makes you do your own version with a quieter huff.
You give the roots of his hair a tight squeeze before your shoulders relax and another sigh escapes from your now open mouth. The force of his lips smashing against yours pushes you back successfully, leaving each part of your body to surrender to his. For once, you let it and as much as you hate to admit it, whatever he was doing was working.
When he finally pulls away, your breath is harsh and so is his. No matter how hard you could try, looking away from his hazy eyes was not an option. Just like the fog around you both, his gaze is inescapable and suffocating. You knew kissing your rival was a bad idea, but neither one of you want to move your hands from their proper places on each other.
Just then, a distant voice calls out to Xavier that snaps you out of your absentmindedness. “Shit,” Xavier curses softly against your lips, “Thanks for that Y/n,” he pulls away, much to your hidden displeasure, “But...I have a cup to win.”
Suddenly, it all comes hurdling back.
“FUCK! THE RACE!” You tear yourself away from Xavier, breaking the warmth between you both, and scramble to find your flag, “YOU CONNIVING SON OF A BITCH. YOU DISTRACTED ME!”
“I hope you don't mind but I actually sort of hid it.” He grins slyly at you, straightening his suit with a swift rub on his chest, “No rules, remember?” He pulls out a flag from behind him and snickers. Has he had that this entire time?
A flash of surging anger fumes inside of your chest, but Xavier just smiles. In his mind, it’s almost laughable how you fell for his devious yet successful confession slash plan. It was too good to pass up. And judging by the sour pout on your face, it worked!
“Y/n,” He chirps, “Was I a good distraction?” He can’t help but ask.
You avoid his gaze and turn your head to other possible directions your flag can be in, “You're the worst, Xavier.”
He runs a hand through his brown hair and smooths it down, “Right, right. You hate me. But I got you pretty good, didn’t I?” He picks up his jester cap and lazily smashes it onto the top of his head, “I'm gonna go, but, you should totally meet me in my dorm tonight? At 8?”
He makes his hasty exit before you can reply, leaving you breathless and weak in the knees—mostly tight fisted and furious, but still, weak in the knees.
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“So, Y/n. Do you want to explain why you...left for so long..?” Your teammate asks, kind of scared to ask in the first place but confusion was eating her alive. How fitting.
Instead of answering, you reply with strong and swift robotic motions that quickly thunk your boat along the shore line, taking a good chunk out of the grass and soil. Unfortunately, half way through your synchronized rowing, some water kicked up into the boat and soaked your costume. You didn't care though. All you wanted was Xavier.
And his head on a stick.
Sounds of congratulatory cheers erupt from the crowd as Xavier and the rest of his jester-like teammates hold up the Poe Cup trophy together.
“Bitch.” Is all you can say when all your other teammates wash up next to you, sad, defeated, and soaked with murky lake water.
“Well get them next time, Y/n. Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Your friend smiles happily.
Yeah. Tonight.
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007reid · 3 months
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stalemate. spencer reid
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join the taglist | part 1
summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.
a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍
the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.
you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.
it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-
reid.
it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.
you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.
***
flashback~
it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.
as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.
the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"
a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.
"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"
the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.
"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."
"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"
you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"
"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."
"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."
you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.
you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.
"she takes nespresso."
shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.
flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."
he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.
what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.
at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.
"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.
"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."
"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.
"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."
he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.
"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?
"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.
end flashback.
***
you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.
well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.
you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.
outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.
jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.
you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.
you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.
okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.
"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"
you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.
"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.
"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.
you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.
sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.
the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.
you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.
you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.
"why do you hate me, reid?"
you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.
"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:
"i don't hate you."
and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.
"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"
your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.
"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.
"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"
"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.
"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"
you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.
you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.
"i didn't think it through."
"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."
spencer sighs. “y/n…”
it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).
"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.
and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.
"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"
"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?
"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"
he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.
after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."
the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.
***
when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.
there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.
you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."
"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.
"yes you do. tell me."
"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."
"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.
"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."
"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"
"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."
you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"
emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.
"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.
"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."
"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.
emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"
bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.
"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"
perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."
without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.
so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.
morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.
"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"
your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"
"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."
"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"
penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."
you sigh in defeat.
"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.
"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"
"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.
who?
***
the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.
the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?
you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.
right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.
you'll do it when you get back.
***
something is extremely strange about spencer reid.
he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.
so you did manage to get through his thick head.
551 notes · View notes
blitzyn · 5 months
Text
rookie mistake
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dottore x m!reader
Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous
Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.
a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!
wc -> 3.6k
cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read
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Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.
With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.
There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.
Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.
Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.
But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.
Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.
"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"
You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.
You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.
The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.
"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"
You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.
"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."
"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."
You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.
He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."
He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.
"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"
That's when you knew you fucked up big time.
With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!
He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.
"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.
"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."
Fuck.
He planned this out.
You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.
"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."
"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."
It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.
"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.
"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.
"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."
He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."
You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.
Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.
"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."
You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.
You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.
You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.
You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—
"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.
"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."
With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.
Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.
With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.
You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.
"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.
You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.
He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.
Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.
In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.
"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."
Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.
You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.
You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.
You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.
"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"
"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.
"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"
It's Pantalone, you recognize.
"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.
"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.
"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."
A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."
Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.
Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.
"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"
You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.
"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"
"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.
You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"
He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.
"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."
"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.
"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"
You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.
"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.
You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.
But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.
"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."
He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.
"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."
He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."
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cross-posted on ao3
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mayfieldss · 1 year
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Isn't that what friends are for? - JJ Maybank
Pairing; JJ Maybank x female!kook!reader
Warnings; Language, family reunion gone bad, generic rude comments made by family members, friends to lovers.
Summary; You take JJ as your date to your sister's wedding, and not everything goes to plan.
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You got the invitation two weeks before the wedding itself. Baby pink cardstock, cursive gold letters, and printed flowers announcing the date, time, and venue of your older sister's wedding. It was late notice, and you hadn't known she was even engaged, yet here you were, staring down at the mail in your hand, too late to RSVP to the special event.
Your sister was five years older than you, with a superiority complex beyond saving, and was the kook princess of the outer banks long before Sarah Cameron came along. She moved to the mainland not two years earlier, and you were left alone with your parents and their expanse of money to do as you wished. You weren't surprised to hear about the wedding this late, you were something of a mess to your family, kook gone bad, hanging out in the cut and wasting your days on fishing and beer. Your parents were out of town, and you'd thought nothing of it until this, but now you knew where they were. They were on the mainland, helping out your sibling with their stacks of cash and credit cards.
It's stupid, but anger consumes you, and even though you'd never cared for weddings, it hurt to think they didn't care to tell you, nor invite you until the last minute. It was a pity invite, and you knew that much was true. So somehow you take the invite across town, to the chateau where you know your friends will be. John B, Kie, Sarah, Pope, and JJ are all there on the porch when you arrive, just as expected.
"Look at this shit." You raise the invite high in the air, before flinging the flat card like a frisbee over to John B, who catches it with expert skill.
"A wedding invite? Your sister's getting married?" He's squinting at the words, Sarah, who sits in his lap, doing the same. She's the first to take the invite from John B's hands, fingers scanning over the details of the card.
"Wow, you got this pretty late, don't you think?" She's seen the date, clearly, and looks up with raised brows.
"Yeah, they did that on purpose, they don't want me to go, I know it." folding your arms over your chest you move to sit next to Pope, who pats you on the shoulder in such an awkward way that you have to smile just a little.
"Give me a look" JJ has made his way to John B and Sarah, and he snatches the card from their hands, scanning the words fast. "I hate cursive man; I can't read this shit."
He chucks it in Kie's general direction, the thing falling at her feet before she picks it up. "The wedding's in two weeks? Shit Y/N, you think you're gonna go?"
You shrug, leaning back into the broken-down couch on which you sit. "They don't want me to."
"That's all the more reason why you should." JJ circles the porch before coming up beside you, sitting on the arm of the couch and staring you down with an affectionate, yet mischievous gaze. "You allowed a plus one?"
His question takes you off guard, and you nod waiting for one of your other friends to interject—they don't.
"Great," JJ claps his hands together, "I'll go with you, cause a little bit of chaos, and make this shit fun." He's grinning ear to ear, and you know it's a bad idea. Going by yourself in the first place will cause enough trouble with your sister, considering she's disgusted by your choice of lifestyle and friends, and you're still not sure why she bothered to invite you at all, but bringing one of those companions she hates so much will make things ten times worse. Maybe that's part of the appeal, however, because in the next instant, you're saying yes, and you feel a whole lot better once you do.
"We're going to a wedding ladies and gentlemen!" JJ announces to your small group of friends. He stands taking your hands in his own and pulling you from your seat. "We're gonna have a fantastic fucking time."
-
You don't know why you let JJ talk you into going. He was a charming boy with a big smile that was hard to resist, and a tendency to steal things that didn't belong to him—your heart included. So, though you don't quite understand how you ended up on a ferry to the mainland with JJ Maybank by your side, you weren't surprised.
"I seriously can't believe they didn't tell you." JJ is leaning over the railing of the big boat, looking out at the water as he speaks. His brow is furrowed in deep concentration, something that is always very concerning.
"I can." You step up beside him resting your arms on the railing. "They won't expect me to be there." You turn your gaze to the blonde boy and find his eyes on you already. He smiles, lighting up the evening air.
"Well, you know how I love to make an entrance." He winks and at that moment JJ is almost irresistible "And besides," He continues, "they might be happy to see you."
"Maybe." You look him over in the evening light, the sun beams shining against his hair like a halo. "Thanks for coming with me."
JJ's smile widens as you say it, and he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. His hug is tight and comforting, and he's so warm despite only being in his old grey tee and cargo shorts. "No problem princess, no Pogue goes into battle alone."
You laugh at that, and you swear you can hear JJ's breath catch, if only for a second. He doesn't seem to acknowledge it, however, so neither do you, leaning into his side just a little more.
The mainland is way busier than Kildare, and even though you've been there many times before, the differences to your natural Outer Banks habitat always seem to surprise you. You can't get away with as much in Charleston as you can in the figure eight, let alone the cut.
"D'you got the invite?" JJ asks, hand on your shoulder as you walk down the street. You got off the ferry an hour ago and, as of right now, are scanning the street signs for directions to the venue. The wedding is tomorrow, but you insisted on mapping out your route, so you knew where you were headed when the time came. You pull the envelope from your pocket and hand JJ the invite as your eyes drift from place to place.
"Look, Y/N let's just ask someone for directions tomorrow, or better yet, GPS." His hand gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you turn to face him, finally giving in.
"Okay, but I swear to god JJ if we miss this wedding—"
JJ's laugh cuts you off and he removes his hand from you "Am I mistaken or were you not the one complaining about this little trip ten minutes ago?"
At that, you slap him on the shoulder, moving forward toward the nearest fast-food shop you can see. "I need to make an appearance so I can see their faces, Jay. I need to see my sister's utter disgust."
JJ jogs up beside you just as you enter the closest store, picking up a menu as he passes the counter. "What's your sister's name anyway? Gotta make a good impression."
"The devil incarnate." You turn to face him just to see the smile on his face as you say it, and it's there and wide as it ever could be.
"You really hate her, don't you?" JJ says, eyes moving to scan the special deals on the wall of the restaurant. You follow his lead, reading over the prices with minimum focus.
"I don't hate her, she's my sister, I just dislike her views on—almost everything."
"Including Pouges?" JJ presses, eyes flitting to your figure.
"Including Pouges." You confirm, JJ running a hand through his hair as he watches you, thinking a thousand things about your being.
"I bet she hates that you're one of us, huh?"
To that you look at him, the smallest of smirks falling to your face at the sight of the tired, blue-eyed boy. "I was always a Pogue JJ, they just didn't want to admit it. Now they have to."
-
The next day, you're exhausted, waking up in a cheap hotel, its walls covered in bubbly, chipping, white paint. JJ is in the other bed across the room, passed out with his cheek squished up against the hard hotel pillows. He's in his clothes from yesterday, though at some point during the night, he discarded his t-shirt in favour of the cold night air on his skin.
"JJ, wake up." You watch JJ's still body unresponsive to your words, and when you say them again louder, with little to no reaction from the boy, you almost think he could have died in his sleep.
"JJ, get up, holy shit you sleep like a log." You're out of bed now and standing over JJ with your hands on his shoulders. Your skin touching his own is enough to set alight something in JJ, waking him without you needing to give him a single shake.
"Good morning to you too." He grumbles, hand moving over the top of yours. "What's the time?" His voice comes out a tired slur as he moves into a sitting position begrudgingly.
"We have an hour, Jay, we slept in."
To that JJ groans even louder, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand. Once he does so you rush over to your bag, grab your things, and move into the bathroom. JJ gets dressed by his bed, pulling on his white button-up and trying his best to smooth out the wrinkles with his hands. He can't lie that he does in fact want to make a good impression, on you if not your family. He doesn't need to impress you, you're already one of his best friends, but for some reason, he felt the strong urge to try and do so. When you come out of the bathroom JJ realizes why. It all seems to click in his head, the reason why he was trying too hard to remove the creases from the fabric of his pants and straighten the collar of his shirt. It all made sense when he saw you. You're in a sundress, cute and simple, but JJ finds his mouth agape at the sight and he thinks perhaps you in a sundress may be his kryptonite.
"Well don't you look handsome," The sound of your voice as you approach sends shockwaves down JJ's spine and he knows then that maybe he wants a little more of you than what he's got.
"Oh, this old thing?" JJ pulls at the fabric of his shirt, a wide grin forming on his lips as he tries to mask the beating of his heart. "This's just a little something I threw on." He's making eye contact, even though it's hard not to look at everything else.
"You look fucking great." He takes your hand in his own, thumb running over the back of it, feeling your skin against his. You smile, and with pride, JJ watches as your face flushes.
"We better get a move on Jay," You clear your throat and JJ smiles a little wider, taking in you and the sundress again. "We can get breakfast on the way and brush our teeth in the car." You're still talking as you move toward the door, and JJ squeezes your hand which is still tightly wrapped in his own.
"Are we just gonna leave our bags here?" JJ gestures toward the pile of both his and your things, and you shake your head, moving back over to your bags and letting go of JJ's hand. You grab your things, waiting for JJ to follow suit, before you leave the hotel room, checking out with JJ close behind.
-
The wedding is packed when you get there and you highly doubt your sister or her husband to be, have this many friends. You think it's safe to bet that your sibling has never spoken to half of these people in her life. Walking in with JJ, however, is a relief. It's a weight off your shoulders to have someone you trust by your side when running into the line of family fire, even if he does just head straight for the drinks and appetizers being served.
"So, when do you think we'll start to be heckled and chased out of here with pitchforks?" JJ's mouth is stuffed with some kind of cracker, his voice muffled.
"Hopefully never, JJ."
You take one of the appetizers for yourself before JJ can swallow them all, ushering the boy over to a seat to watch the ceremony. It's long, drawn out, and rather boring, but there are a few old people shedding tears and wiping them away with fancy monogrammed handkerchiefs, clearly enjoying the show more than you ever could. JJ's knee bobs up and down beside yours, the boy never able to sit still, and you loop your arm through his as you sit and watch your sister wed a man you've never met.
"God, how can she walk in those shoes?" Your voice comes as a whisper next to JJ's ear, and your close proximity makes him shiver.
"I dunno, but I reckon you could do it better." JJ's eyes follow your sister as she walks arm in arm with her new husband, his brows furrowed and you laugh, the sound masked by clapping and cheers of the other guests.
"Do what better Jay? Walk in those shoes? Not a chance." You're looking over your shoulder now as you wait for your sister's figure to disperse and JJ steals what might be seen as a longing glance your way.
"You can do fucking anything, baby." His own words startle him, but you more so, your head snapping his way with wide but mischievous eyes.
"Baby?" You question the nickname, trying to hide a smile.
JJ clears his throat, shifting in his seat before standing with the rest of the guests, offering you a hand just for show. "What'd you mean?"
"You just called me baby." You say it again, staring him down, and this time you let your smile show. It's embarrassing for JJ only because he really did enjoy not only saying the word but using it to refer to you. It made him feel warm and secure in the fact he had you with him, but now he was damn worried you hated him for it. Your smile says otherwise.
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. We'll never know."
You laugh, looping your arm through his again. "Oh, I think we already know."
JJ doesn't say anything to that, instead opting to nudge his elbow into your side, a nervous smile plaguing his features. He's leading you away from the seats and you know he's heading back to the appetizers table when you're stopped by two people. They step in front of you and JJ, blocking your path, and when you lock eyes with them your heart sinks. It's your parents, with rather stern looks on their faces.
"Y/N, you came." It's a long, drawn-out sentence provided by your mother, your father placing a hand on her shoulder—a silent conversation between them. JJ can feel you tense beside him, a figure he can hardly recognize, and though he knows it's not the best idea, he unhooks his arm from yours and trails it around your waist, watching your parents' eyes as he does so. He wants to make a point that you have someone here to protect you, to defend you from whatever nonsense they decide to spout about your being.
"JJ Maybank," JJ extends a hand toward your father and mother. "I don't think we've met." He smiles wide, inviting conversation if they dare to start one, but JJ's last name alone seems to scare them off, and for once JJ is happy for his father’s bad reputation. They choose to ignore him, turning to you with a newfound attitude.
"We'll see you at the reception." Your mothers voice sounds calm enough, but you know she's calculating ways to prevent you from attending as she leaves, your father in tow.
When they're finally out of sight, your shoulders drop from their unusually high place, and you turn to JJ with eyes closed in frustration. "I fucking froze, they just appeared, and I froze." Placing your hands over eyes you let out a quiet groan, irritation consuming you, running across you skin like a flame.
"It wasn't all bad." JJ doesn't know what to do, so he stands there awkwardly, wanting nothing more but to touch you, though he doesn't think he has the right to do so. "Their faces were priceless."
You chuckle, hands falling down by your sides as the other guests begin to mill out the gate, ready for the reception. "We should get going if we've gotta walk to the next hellscape."
JJ takes your hand, his other pointing out the gate as you turn. "I don't think we have to walk, man. They have shuttles."
He's right, and when you follow his gaze, there are four white shuttles filling with people ready to be escorted to the next venue. Others get into their fancy cars, white and black, sleek-looking things, before driving off. You and JJ, however, opt to take the free and less fancy route, and you jump into the first free shuttle that you see. It takes mere minutes to get to the place, and you hadn't realized just how close the locations were to each other until you'd travelled between them, but now JJ offers you a hand as you step out of the shuttle, and you walk with him to the wide open double doors of an ornate hall.
"This shit is crazy man." JJ is staring at the ceiling, which is decorated with huge, hanging soft blue and white lights, leaving you to guide him through the crowds of people.
"Can you please watch where you're going?" You mutter when JJ almost bumps into his fourth person within three minutes. He nods, still looking around, before shaking himself out of his trace.
"Oh, to be a Charleston Kook." JJ swings his arm over your shoulder, words spoken not so quietly into the air surrounding you. A few heads turn, but JJ ignores them, a smile on his lips. "At least we look fucking good right?" He's turned his head to face you, and his close proximity is enough to make even the stablest woman faint.
"Yeah, at least we look good." You send him a smile, though with your heart beating so fast you can't do much more than that. It's then that you see your parents again, sitting at the far table closest to where the bride and groom will later sit. "Fuck." They're looking right at you, and JJ follows your gaze to them when you speak. He feels you tense again and stops dead in his tracks, turning you to face him.
"Why are you so scared of them?"
"I'm not." You sound doubtful, eyes flickering back to your parents as they whisper to each other. JJ can see the concern in your eyes, taking your hands in his own.
"Stop. stop looking at them." His words do nothing to tear back your gaze, and his hands come up to hold your face. "Don't look at them. Look at me."
JJ doesn't regret saying it, but he can't deny that his breath catches in his throat when you do in fact look at him. Only then does it register just what he's doing, where his hands are, and just how easy it would be to kiss you...
But he doesn't. JJ shakes himself free of all the raging thoughts that beg him to do something he shouldn't, and instead he smiles. "Don't let them pull you down, baby."
He's staring you down, gaze softer than it should be for someone that just wants to be friends, and he tries not to flinch when your hands come up to rest atop his on your cheeks. "You did it again."
There's a smile on your lips that matches his, and JJ plays right into your trap. "Did what again?" He's lost in you then, and he hates himself for falling, but he just might be.
"You called me baby." Your grin grows wider, and JJ removes his hands from your face, even though he doesn't want to.
"I guess I did." He's not as nervous this time, perhaps because he's so giddy to be this close to you. "You seemed to like it, though."
JJ is pushing his limits. He knows that well enough, but he's never been one to run from danger. He watches your demeanour change; examines the way your chest pauses movement as you hold in a breath before you speak.
"I guess I did."
Those few words almost kill him, and he's falling again and falling hard. The flirting is heating his body, skin crawling with the urge to pull you closer, press his lips to yours, and never stop touching you. But he just grins, eyeing your lips without shame until both his and your attentions are pulled to something else.
It's the bride and groom waltzing in with smiles on their faces. Your sister looks pleased with herself as if she knows she was rich before but is even richer now thanks to her marrying a man with a fantastically decent job. And then her eyes lock onto you, and things change. She's still smiling, but it falters for a second or two when she examines your figure, as well as the boy beside you. She's heard of JJ, and clearly, it's obvious just who he is when she sees him. JJ dares to put an arm around your waist again, sending fireworks through your body as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "She's pissed. Mission accomplished."
You let out a quiet chuckle, smiling back at your sister and gripping onto JJ, just for the show of it, and definitely not just because you want to.
God, JJ is losing it. The way you touch him makes him feel just that little bit more alive, and it drives him crazy when you pull back and lead him toward a table. He doesn't want to sit down unless he's got you on his lap, he thinks. But you sit in a different seat to him, distance put between you as you wait for the food that is bound to come at such a fancy wedding. He smiles, watching you close as you eye the cake on the other side of the room like a child. JJ wants to go steal it for you, run over and take it, the two of you able to eat it with your hands as laughs escape you. But that's just a fantasy, and soon someone is making a toast to the bride and groom, one that lasts a little too long.
"Have you ever thought about getting married?" your voice comes quietly beside him, and it takes JJ off guard.
"Not specifically." he hasn't thought about marriage, but he has thought about being paired with someone, having a relationship that lasts longer than one night. It's occurring to him now, whilst you're inches away that perhaps he wants that with you. He doesn't let on though, and soon the other man's toast is over, and people begin mingling with each other again. JJ's eyes drift back to the sundress you're wearing subconsciously, and he lets it sink in just how much he actually thinks about you. He doesn't quite understand how he didn't comprehend the way he felt about you sooner.
"JJ." his name falls from your lips, and he's snapped back into reality. Your smile is contagious, and the borderline flirtatious nature of it is deadly and oh so tempting, but he gathers his wits and smiles back.
"What?" He asks, voice matching his expression, but before you can answer, someone is calling your name. When you turn, it's your mother waving you over to her table with your father at her side. You know they want you to come alone, but JJ isn't having it, and he stands when you do, linking his arm with yours again. "Shall we move to the front lines?" His breath brushes against your ear as he whispers to you, and you nod, moving toward your parents' table with caution but confidence, nonetheless.
"Hey, Mom, Dad." you greet them each with a smile, though not a genuine one, and before you or your parents can get another word in, your sister appears like Casper the ghost in her cocaine-coloured wedding dress.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice is shaken, and you would almost think her to be scared if not for the furious look upon her face.
Your sister's eyes flick over to JJ and it's like a teen comedy the way her school bully attitude comes about. "You brought a plus one." She's still eyeing up JJ, most likely assessing whether she has the strength to push the boy from the building. JJ smiles, warm and welcoming and it only infuriates her more.
"I got an invite. Were you not expecting me?" Your voice comes surprisingly steady, and you even find it in yourself to send a mocking smile. It's much easier to fight back against your sister than it is your parents.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am." JJ slips into a fake Southern drawl, and it's absolutely priceless the way not just your sister, but your parents react. Wide eyes and concerned frowns consume the three of them, and it makes everything just that bit better.
Your sister turns back to you, repeating her previous statement despite being very clear the first time. Her intentions are unknown to you, though you enjoy the way her face goes beet red with frustration. "You brought a plus one."
You smile a little wider, looking at JJ with overexaggerated glee you would only see in a Disney movie. "I did, isn't he just the cutest?" You rest your head against his arm for good measure, your mock joy turning true as you watch your sister slowly come to her breaking point. You don't understand why she doesn't want you at her wedding. You understand the late invite, just for good measure, but whilst you never got along, you weren't that bad with each other, and your tendency to prefer Pogue life over your natural Kook habitat was no true reason for exile, yet here you were being pushed further from your family. Not that you entirely minded.
"Y/N, why are you here?" Your sister doesn't speak this time, instead, it's your father, who looks disapproving as ever. JJ feels you tense again, and takes over, just in case you can't make out the words.
"She told y'all already. She got an invite, and who loves to turn those down? You lot invited us, so if you didn't want us here that's kinda on you." It's not the smartest thing to say, but with your arm now looped through his, as though you were a real couple, he doesn't care what he's saying, as long as he's defending you.
"We did not invite you, boy." It's your mother, and she speaks with words direct as a missile, aimed at JJ for the kill. But he deflects expertly, like he always does.
"Well, technically you did." he's giving her one of those scrunched-up face looks that are done in the movies when one character is about to prove the other wrong, and he knows he's got her pinned. "With all due respect, Mrs. L/N, the invite stated a plus one was invited, and that plus one is me. So, if we put two and two together, that means I was invited to this wonderful wedding." He spares a glance at you, finding a small, proud, smile on your lips when he does so. The fact you might be proud of him as well as yourself sends an electrical current through his veins.
"Well, with all due respect to you, Mr. Maybank, I would like you to leave." Your sister is beside herself with anger and you think she might pop from the expanse of it. JJ only smiles, hugging you into his side.
"It's nice to see you've heard of me, all good things I hope." He feels extra confident thanks to the way you lean into him, accepting his affectionate advances as he plays this little game with your family.
"No good things at all. I want you out of here." Your sister isn't going to take no for an answer, and you still don't get why this bothers her so much. What it is about you and your company that she despises, you may never understand.
"You need a reason to kick him out, and so far, he's been nothing but kind to you. It seems quite unfair don't you think?" You carry a look of mock concern as if you're explaining manners to a child. Your sister isn't having it, and you didn't think she would.
"He's a Pogue, Y/N!" Her voice comes louder than it should, and a few heads turn in her direction at the sound of it echoing off of the walls. You don't let it faze you, and JJ stands just as strongly at your side.
"Oh, but he's just so handsome." You lock eyes with JJ, bringing a hand up to his cheek for dramatic effect. "I think I'll keep him."
JJ's heart is racing with the compliment and the touch of your hand, and when you pull it away, he feels as though he's lost a part of him. He winks at you, flirting with absolutely no shame around your family. They don't bother to show him respect, so why should he give them anything close to it? Instead, he focuses all his attention on you because, quite frankly, that's always been his favourite thing to do.
"Y/N," your mother's scraping voice comes again, tearing your eyes back to her table even when JJ internally begs for you to look at him again. "We gave you a chance, and you blew it. Go home."
That gets you riled up, and God does JJ find it attractive when you respond, the utmost fire in your voice. "You never gave me a chance. You didn't even want me to come here, but I did because it's my fucking sister's wedding, and yet you're mad that I exist? And you," You turn toward your sister, eyes tearing deep into her soul. "Why d'you hate me so much? You're no angel yourself, you know." When you finish, no one says anything, dead silence consuming not just your family, but the entire hall you stand in. After a minute or two passes, you're done with it.
"This is so pathetic. You want me to go? I'll go." You take JJ's hand in your own, leading him out after you with your head held high. There's going to be one hell of a fight when both you and your parents meet again back home, but you're okay for now.
"That was one hell of a wedding." JJ laughs, stopping in his tracks once you're down the block. He turns you to face him, and all the anger you felt before melts away at the sight. His blonde hair falls hopelessly into his eyes, smile crooked and sweet. Something about it pulls you in and clearly, JJ feels something similar because soon, he's taking a step forward. "So, you think I'm handsome, huh?"
It's mischievous and playful, and just what you need right now. "I think you are very handsome, JJ Maybank."
"Well," JJ is testing the waters, watching you with cautious, yet needy eyes. "I think you're pretty smokin' hot yourself."
"Is that so?" Your smile is contagious, and your flirting kills him with every breath he takes. "You know," You start the sentence with just as much romantic intention, but JJ doesn't let you finish it. He takes the risk of pulling you in, closer than you've ever been to each other, and he kisses you with an amount of passion he's never felt before. His hands grip your hips, and he knows he shouldn't be doing what he is, but he can't back out now. He's kissing you, and as he does so, he thinks that maybe he never needs to breathe air again. He can just breathe you. But you do pull back eventually, flushed and confused, though JJ made a mental note that you did, in fact, kiss him back.
"Sorry," He mutters, even though he is most definitely not. "I wanted to know what it felt like to do that." His hands are still on your hips, though he doesn't grip them as tight now as he waits for your response. It comes slowly, and you take time to catch your breath and process his words. When you do finally speak, he's taken aback.
"It felt pretty fucking good."
"How did it feel?" You sound so calm, and JJ can't quite believe this is happening to him, but he sure as hell likes it. "How did it feel to kiss me, I mean." Your hands come to rest over JJ's, still placed neatly on your hip bones. You don't move them away, though, and he takes that as a good sign.
You smile then, a smile full of intention that JJ wants so desperately to unlock. "Would you like to try again? You know, to make sure you really know how it felt?"
JJ swears you'll be the death of him one day, but he thinks he'd be content with that if it meant he got to kiss you one more time. And he does, not wasting a single second. He doesn't think he'll ever waste time with you again.
-
GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-itsamberamber @s00buwu
OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx
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some-pers0n · 7 months
Text
God Winter is one of the characters of all time and the fact that a good chunk of the fandom basically tosses him around like a wet sock and screams about how he's "toxic" and "edgy" with no good reason saddens me.
When you read MR, Winter is seen as an antagonistic character. He snaps at Moon, accuses her of setting up the whole bomb thing, and generally we aren't given too many reasons to like him. It sets his character up as one that's mean, cold, and generally uncooperative. He is very nationalistic and haughty, going on and on about how the IceWings are superior. He's a not so great person.
However...he's not that. If you merely glance at his book, you know that. It's a persona that he's crafted and put on in order to even survive in the Ice Kingdom. He was forced by his parents to put on a cold demeanor and be extremely aggressive and rude because the very thought of showing emotional vulnerability is seen as a weakness.
To the IceWings, you are weak if you try to make bonds and connections on a deeper level than just "you are another guard in my platoon and I must do everything to protect each other because we must work together to be strong". You aren't allowed to be kind. Having friends only means that you're getting too attached to others and will be rendered semi-useless while you're grieving when they eventually die.
Winter always had the soul of a kind, caring, and intensely loyal dragon. He is the core idea of what an IceWing should be. He is willing to give up his life and stand up for his values and what is right. He protects those closest to him and sticks by them in times of peril. What is he labeled as? Weak. Pathetic. Why? Because he can't help himself but be kind and wanting a deeper connection. He's shamed for not being as jaded and cold. He's ridiculed and bullied for quietly wanting to be friends. The only dragon who was kind and equally as nice as him was his brother, Hailstorm, and then he was captured by the SkyWings, something Winter blames himself for. He failed Hailstorm. He failed his family for killing a first-circle dragon. He failed because he was just too attached.
So, what does he do? Well, he gives in. Fine. Put on a mask. Walk around like everyone else. Snap and bite and hiss when anybody gets too close. It's not like he cares. They are meaningless. They are worth nothing. At least that's what everyone tells him. He is alone. That's good though, right? Alone is good. Alone means your strong. Alone means that you don't have anybody to rely on. Alone means that you're better than those with emotions and feelings. Those fools who get attached. Alone is...good... It's what he wants, right?
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actual-changeling · 2 months
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I agree with you that Crowley cares about humans on a more personal level, whereas Aziraphale more cares about humans in the more vague sense.
Perhaps because he thinks it's what a good angel should do. As we know, Heaven (and the high ranking angels) have never cared about humans. But Aziraphale does, at least to some extent. So this must come from his own goodness (and the influence of Crowley, probably), right? He thinks Heaven should care because he cares, and knows it the right thing thing to do.
Of course, he needs to realise that he can't just pretend that Heaven is good by pretending God doesn't want whatever bad stuff Heaven is doing to happen, for himself and to be with Crowley.
(Also, I'm sorry if this comes off rude. I genuinely don't meant it to.)
(Dw, you're not coming off as rude!)
I think with Aziraphale it's kinda half/half.
A part of him genuinely cares about humanity because he just has those thoughts and feelings as a person. However, there's also a part that cares about humanity because he thinks that's what a good angel is supposed to be like. To Aziraphale, heaven is fundamentally good, and that any cruelties and uncaring angels he has seen are an exception to the rule—get rid of a few bad apples, and heaven will be perfect, right?
It's why he thinks that being the Supreme Archangel will "make a difference", because the thought the problem were the people in charge. But if he is the one in charge then everything will be great.
The mistake here is that Aziraphale does not understand that heaven is not good and never has been. He sees Crowley's fall as a mistake because he's seen Crowley do good things, so deep-down he must still be an angel since demons are Evil and Bad.
Crowley and all the other demons falling was the system working as intended, there's nothing to fix or change. Once he actually understands that, we will finally get somewhere.
Humanity and him have had the same relationship since Eden: He is standing on a wall above them, caring in a way an angel is supposed to while staying separate and in a superior position. Giving Adam the sword was a one-time thing, a spur of the moment decision (he's very prone to those), and while he helps the individual human every once in a while, overall he doesn't engage with them.
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yuri-is-online · 2 months
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I’ve been skimming through fluff fics lately, and a fun little realization popped up in my mind. It’s not often people talk about the downs in a potential relationship with the twst boys. For the sake of a more realistic perspective, I’ve got to ask. Who do you think is most likely to unintentionally hurt Yuu and why? - 🦐
Hello my shrimpy friend! So nice to hear from you, hope you're doing well. Fan fic in general isn't very focused on portraying the negative parts of a relationship because it's a form of escapism. People don't necessarily want to picture themselves in a bad spot in a relationship if they already are in one in real life, yk?
That being said making mistakes is part of any relationship so I do have some thoughts! They/them used for Yuu as always, this is angst so proceed with care.
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Azul- he doesn't have the healthiest mental framework surrounding friendships, and you do need to be friends with your SO to have a solid relationship. An actual relationship with Yuu would probably have a bumpy start as you two try to feel out what the dynamic is actually supposed to be. Take it slow and everything will be fine, but there might be some hurt feelings along the way. And a lot of assumptions from other people about your relationship that don't help either of you.
LEONA- he's a rude ass bitch who doesn't have great manners I am so sorry to this man. To be fair though I think a lot of that rudeness would be something that would take place before the actual relationship, because I firmly believe if it's pointed out to Leona by his partner that he has communication issues he's more than willing to work on that with them. He would be a good boyfriend! It's just all the conversations up to the actual going out that's painful and might ruin what he wants before he actually gets it.
Riddle- so I don't think Riddle's treatment of Yuu is what might hurt them exactly, his issues as always have to do with his mother. He needs to figure out exactly how he wants to deal with his childhood trauma and his adult relationship with her, but that's going to take a lot of time and personal growth. Mrs. Rosehearts seems like the type to try and continue running her son's life after he graduates so I can't see her treating Riddle's partner well. Going no contact with an emotionally abusive parent is really hard for their children to do, Riddle needs love and support but the journey can be emotionally draining for the person giving that support.
Sebek- again with the family thing. His parents sound like wonderful people but his Grandfather seems to only like his grandchildren because they're half fae and still actively hates his son in law. I can't see him treating Yuu any better, which I could see being very draining since Sebek and his grandpa are very close. It could also be a chance for Baul to change a bit, which would be nice.
Cater and Idia- I'm making them share a spot because similarly to Leona I think the major hurts would be caused pre-relationship, but unlike him I don't see their communication issues as being something that would affect the relationship in the same way going forward. Cater has a lot of insecurities and can be a bit shallow, but he is a good friend so once he accepts Yuu as a safe space to speak openly and honestly I don't see them as having too many issues. Idia is also shown to be very open and honest with Ortho, his self hatred, temper, and inferiority/superiority complex just get in the way of him letting anyone else in.
In general, a lot of the twst guys have communication issues which is something people can work through, but would still cause some pain. Something to think about I suppose σ( ̄、 ̄=)
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rottenpumpkin13 · 2 months
Note
This is possibly (probably) opening myself up to another wave of pain. So I'm begging you to be gentle...
But Do Angeal and Sephiroth ever find out that Genesis cried over annoying them? Did zack notice that Genesis had been crying? Did they apologise? I need to know!!
Also I hope you're doing well!
(Continued from this post) Okay!! Let's do this >:)
-⏤★⏤-
Zack stands before Sephiroth and Angeal as he chronicles the afternoon he had spent with Genesis two days prior. With each word invoked, different expressions stretch across their faces, ranging from bewilderment to shock. He would’ve opened up to them sooner, but Zack wanted to wait and see whether Genesis would say something first. 
He didn’t. For the past two days, any time Zack had seen the infamous trio together, Genesis had been right beside Angeal and Sephiroth. His smile was forced, his words were careful, and every step he took was as calculated as his newfound sense of self-awareness—like Genesis was trying his hardest to step over stray bombs. 
"Seriously, guys," Zack insists. He presses his back against the closed door of Sephiroth’s office, where he has cornered them. "Genesis isn't doing well. He didn’t explicitly say anything that day, but it was clear he had been crying.”
Sephiroth raises an eyebrow, his usual stoic demeanor showing a hint of surprise. 
“And yesterday he finally told me what’s been going on,” Zack continues, rubbing his crossed arms in a self-soothing gesture, “he…says he feels like a bother.”
Angeal huffs. "And how do you know he's not just having one of his dramatic moments?"
Zack leans against the wall, not taking kindly to “dramatic moments” and whatever Angeal is trying to insinuate. 
"Because he told me. He feels like nothing he says or does matters at the end of the day, that you guys have the same image of him in your head, that he’s this—this—” Zack shakes his head. “This annoying weight that you put up with.”
Angeal exchanges a glance with Sephiroth, a silent, shared question passing between them. "Why would he confide in you, Zack? I’m not trying to be rude, but I didn’t think he liked you very much.”
Zack composes that part of him that knows not to lash out. He’s standing before his two superiors, after all. “What's the name of his new book?” 
Sephiroth and Angeal look at each other, their expressions incredulous. 
Angeal shrugs. “I don't know what you—”
“—Because Genesis can name every single plant in your office, pick out your coffee order, and tell you what issue’s been badgering your mind lately. 
The click of Angeal’s teeth as he clamps his mouth shut is Zack's cue to turn to Sephiroth. 
“And you. He admires you so much, he can go into detail about every single one of your conquests. And he loves you so hard as a friend that he can remember what things to avoid teasing you over so he never crosses the line with you.” 
Sephiroth looks down. Angeal looked away. Zack unglues himself from the door and steps forward. 
“I know I’m not perfect. I talk too much, I’m impulsive, I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew, and I get that I’m all over the place sometimes.” He pauses. “And if the people who I admire the most in this world—you two—ever use those as reasons to ignore me, then I think I’d just—” Zack chokes on his words, feeling hot tears spill down his cheeks. 
“I’d just die,” he whispers. When he looks up again, Angeal is rubbing his own face with eyes that are getting glassier by the minute. Sephiroth is still looking down, contemplative. 
Zack is undeterred. “If you can’t stand him anymore, fine. But you need to tell him that—”
“That’s not the case,” Sephiroth says quietly, quickly. 
“Well, it sure seems like it,” Zack snaps. “If you can’t stand him anymore, fine,” he repeats, slower this time. “But you need to make that clear to him now.” Zack’s clenched fists tremble at his side. He lets out a shaking breath. “It’s painful enough watching you guys be jerks. I don’t want to continue to see him miserable too.” 
Angeal shakes his head, still unable to meet Zack’s eyes. “Genesis is our friend, Zack. It’s hard to explain to an outside perspective, but we do care for him—”
“Then fucking act like it,” Zack spits. 
This time both Angeal and Sephiroth snap their heads up, looking At Zack as if he has just drenched them with a bucket of cold water. Zack feels his cheeks hit up and regret pool at the pit of his stomach, yet he’s unrelenting. He heaves his shoulders, looking at both men with the same type of conviction Angeal always claims he lacks.
“You can punish me if you want.” He hangs his head. “I probably deserve it, but…” Zack shrugs. “It’s what I thought you should hear.” 
The silence in the office is loud, with the only discernable sounds being the whir of the air conditioner and the soft hum of life right outside the door. An uncomfortable tension hangs in the air. Angeal and Sephiroth exchange a meaningful glance.
Zack shuffles his feet, acutely aware of the possible punishment coming his way. The seconds stretch into an eternity, but he endures it, thinking of Genesis’s well-being—something he never expected to care so much about.
Sephiroth breaks the silence. “Thank you, Zack,” he says, his voice strained. “Your honesty is appreciated.”
Angeal offers a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Go on, Zack. We need some time to discuss this. We'll handle it from here.”
Zack hesitates for a moment, then nods. He turns to leave the office, and when the heavy door closes behind him, the gravity of the conversation lingers like a weighted cloak over his shoulders. 
-
Genesis sits at the booth by the tall glass windows, their usual seat in the dining hall. A bowl of hot soup lies untouched in front of him. The aroma of fresh food fills the air, doing nothing to Genesis other than strengthening the nausea that digs into his stomach. The often lively atmosphere feels heavy as he waits for Sephiroth and Angeal.
He closes the pages of his mystery novel with a soft sigh. Now officially done with the book, a sense of emptiness settles in, like it always does when a thrilling story reaches its end. 
His thoughts wander to the plot, and the revelation that, in the end, the husband was the murderer. He had unraveled the mystery before the final page, a small victory that ended up being the highlight of his…week, really. 
Genesis slumps in his seat, the triumph short-lived. He yearns to share the excitement of the book’s end with Sephiroth and Angeal and boast about his achievement. A knot tightens in his chest. Unfortunately, the fear of sounding annoying held him back.
His melancholy momentarily hushes when Sephiroth and Angeal approach. Surprisingly, they take their seats on either side of him, leaving the opposite side of the booth empty as they squeeze Genesis between them. Genesis can only mutter a confused “huh?” as their trays clatter atop the table. 
Angeal flashes him a genuine, bright smile that Genesis swears he hasn’t seen in months. “Hey!” he nudges him. “Did you hear about Sergeant Stevens? Apparently, Heidegger barred him from interacting with Scarlet on suspicion that she’s using him for another purpose.” 
Genesis is taken aback—not by the gossip, but by the topic coming from Angeal. “Um…no, I haven’t heard anything about that.” 
“Oh, it’s quite the scandal,” Sephiroth adds, offering Genesis a small smile. “But not a bigger scandal than the newest addition to the Sector 8 theater’s production of Loveless.”
Genesis is flummoxed. He feels his heart sink, heat rapidly rising to his face. 
“Oh?” Angeal leans over. “What happened?” 
Sephiroth pokes the roast beef with his fork, shrugging. “Based on what this week’s issue of Dramatica Magazine chronicles, the actress Eliza Moffit refuses to cooperate with Director Henry Fray unless he changes her lines to cater to a younger, more contemporary audience.” 
Genesis feels the initial signs of tears coming in, complete with a sharp pain in his nose and a throat that continues to close up by the minute. 
Angeal hums. “I heard about that. Apparently, her insistence on changing Minerva’s lines has caused a strain in the relations between the Loveless Theatre and the scholars who study the epic. Remember Carl Madden?”
Sephiroth nods. “The professor whose paper on the play’s use of Soliloquy Genesis annihilated online last year.” 
Genesis feels the tears spill from his eyes, hot and washing away the last trace of a smile from his face.
“Him!” Angeal snaps. “He’s threatening legal action against Miss Moffit.” 
“Quite the scandal,” Sephiroth says. 
“Isn’t it?” 
“What do you think, Genesis?” 
Genesis sniffs. “Um…” He quickly wipes away a tear. “C-Could you please stop making fun of me? I get it, I don’t need—whatever this is. I get it. I see your point already.” 
Angeal’s smile fades quicker than the fried rice on his plate has cooled. “Making fun of you? Gen, we’re not—hey, are you crying?” Now noticing the tears, he softly places a hand on Genesis’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Sephiroth follows suit, gently laying his hand on Genesis’s other shoulder. He looks concerned, watching another tear roll down his friend’s cheek. He frowns. “Is there something that we can help with?” 
Genesis shakes his head, sniffling as he reaches up to wipe away more tears. “I understand that you find my endless prattling annoying and tiresome. I’m trying my best to change.”
Had the sound of Angeal and Sephiroth’s hearts being sliced into two been any louder, the other side of the world would’ve heard it. They exchange anxious looks. 
Angeal lightly shakes Genesis’s shoulder. “Gen,” he says softly, as if talking to a child. “Can you look at me please?” 
Genesis reluctantly raises his head. 
Gen, we're not making fun of you. What gave you that idea?”
“We're genuinely interested in what you have to say,” Sephiroth adds. “We want to know how you're feeling.”
Genesis sniffs, his tears momentarily interrupted by confusion. "But... you were talking about…and I thought—"
Angeal interrupts him with a soft chuckle. “We were trying to lighten the mood, not mock you. You've seemed so down lately, and we haven’t been the most attentive friends to you.” 
A tinge of embarrassment colors Genesis's cheeks. He wipes away the remaining tears and sniffles again. "I... I misunderstood. I’m sorry.”
Sephiroth squeezes Genesis's shoulder reassuringly. “You’re not annoying, nor are you tiresome in any way. If I did not have you in my life, I’m certain I would’ve…” Sephiroth pauses, thinking hard. “....Chewed off my own foot by now.” 
The humorous analogy works. Genesis lets out a dry laugh, then looks at Sephiroth. 
Sephiroth hesitates, looking past Genesis at Angeal. “Every time I act annoyed with you, I thought I was playing my part in a joke we were all in on.” 
Angeal nods. “We didn’t realize that by ignoring you, we were hurting your feelings.” 
“Nor were we aware that you had feelings,” Sephiroth adds quietly. 
“Seph!” Angeal snaps, reaching behind Genesis and slapping the back of Sephiroth’s head.
Genesis laughs a little more. 
Angeal groans. “Our point is, you’re important to us. And we don’t want you dimming your shine just to appease people. Don’t ever do that.” 
“Ever,” Sephiroth agrees with a singular, arched eyebrow. “Do you understand how boring our lives would be without you in it?”
“Or how bored Sephiroth would be without someone to keep him in line,” Angeal grins. 
Sephiroth rolls his eyes, huffing. 
Genesis manages a weak smile, feeling both grateful and vulnerable. "I appreciate that. I just... I thought I was becoming a nuisance.” 
Sephiroth slips his hand from Genesis’s shoulder, crossing his arms as his focus veers to the glimmering city outside. He hesitates, “even if the morrow is barren of promises…”
Angeal and Genesis both look up, the former smiling before continuing the line. “Nothing shall forestall my return.”
Sephiroth nods, smiling. “To become the dew that quenches the land.”
“To spare the sands, the seas, the skies,” Angeal says, squeezing Genesis’s shoulder.
Genesis looks down at his lap, unable to contain his smile as warmth spreads through him. “I offer thee this silent sacrifice,” he says, huffing. “So you two have been listening to me.”
Angeal sinks down, resting his head on Genesis’s shoulder and sighing. “More like, you’ve beaten it into our heads.”
Sephiroth does the same, bracing his head on Genesis’s other shoulder—and yawning. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
Genesis can’t believe his ears. Not only had they listened, but absorbed his words into the fabric of their friendship.
The weight of the loneliness that had crushed him before lifts, replaced by the light, reassuring presence of his two friends. 
He leans into the shared warmth, feeling a genuine sense of belonging as he closes his eyes. 
Everything feels perfect. 
Well—almost perfect. He wouldn’t be Genesis Rhapsodos if he didn’t strive to get the last word in
“Gentlemen,” he mutters, “this is why people think we're a throuple."
Laughter erupts from the three of them.
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tmzrkstan · 9 months
Text
nct 127 as co-workers asking you out.
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✦ warnings: a little bit of cursing.
✦ genre: nct x gn!reader, co-workers to lovers, fluff.
•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•
✦ Taeil:
•He was at that company since his graduation and knew how things worked;
•When you entered as an intern his superiors gave him the job of teaching everything around there;
•This man always though that dating should be separeted from working, for professional questions;
•Thats why he stop being nice and friendly with you and start talking the minimum as possible the moment he caught himself smiling like a fool while watching you;
•You tried to ask if you did something wrong but all you got back was "as long as you're doing your job, its fine";
•The day you was too afraid to ask for help from Taeil and end up with another guy sitting next and obviously flirting with you he felt bad;
•That gave him a mental ultimato to something or he could forget about you;
•So the next morning you find a post it at your desk: "I know I have been rude, but can I make it up to you buying a coffee?" and a anxious look on his face.
✦ Johnny:
•You had just transferred from another branch and was kinda lost with everything new;
•Johnny liked to call himself welcome committee leader;
•Then he didn't waste time and welcomed you with a list of the best places in town that you "must" visit;
•The fact that you spend the whole week laughing of his silliest jokes made him realize how pretty you your smile was;
•Got to the point where you two received bad looks from those who tried to concentrate and do some work;
•So you when you almost leaving for the night he asks: "What about giving them a rest and go out for drinking? I can show you one of the places I told you about.".
✦ Taeyong:
•You always felt lucky about the team you worked on, everyone was nice to each other;
•Even when there was a rare discussion it didn't last long, especially because of Taeyong, the kind guy you always looked up to;
•He just felt that him should make everyone comfortable and ended up leaving his wishes behind;
•One big example was that he had been trying for months to ask you out but always end up in a group date;
•Don't get him wrong, he really enjoyed those people, but on the other hand was into you for almost a year;
•Inevitably found himself way too drunk muttering his frustration about not being able to confess his feelings at the bar's table with your colleagues like "🥺";
•The next day he hardly has the courage to talk to you, but after realizing that his feelings were mutual didn't wasted more time;
•A few minutes before you arrived on your date, he sends a text to confirm if was just the two of us.
✦ Yuta:
•Beeing an foreign made him have a leg up on his popularity;
•Yuta was kinda mysterious about his personal life, which generated more whispers around the company;
•But somehow, he noticed you among so many people;
•You would been lying if you said you were never attracted to the mysterious japanese man, you just didn't spend hours talking about him;
•Which eventually caused a questionary from your friends in the cafeteria, like, how could you not be curious about Yuta, why didn't tried to get more information like everybody else;
•That moment was when the aforementioned man appeared out of nowhere confirming: "They gonna get all the information out of the source at our date today.";
•He gave you a winked and handed you a paper with his phone number, leaving behind a table freaking out on you.
✦ Doyoung:
•You were in a way the one working for him;
•Like, when he needed the product you sold he would just call you and meet with you to pick it up;
•You didn't approve of the idea of ​​a date because you might have conflicts of interest, even after he asked you a few times;
•"What you want me to do? Buy it from another person?"
•Until the day he asked to change the delivery location and you found yourself standing in front of a restaurant.
•"I can only pay you after you have lunch with me" he said, and you accused him of taking advantage of you;
•But anyways, you were already there so it would be okay to try, right?
✦ Jaehyun:
•You were sure he hated you;
•Everytime that he needed something from you he would go to your table you would get lost in your thoughts, why didn't he like you? Altough, you were intimidated by him.
•He wouldn't even look you in the face, barely spoke two words and when he saw you in the break room he'd leave.
•Jaehyun was waiting for you to finish analyzing what he brought you when you let out: "Why you hate?" without thinking;
•The conversation went like: "Sorry, what?"/ "What?"/"What did you say?"/ "What did I say what?"/"🤨"/"😐";
•That question hovered over the poor man's head the rest of the day;
•Next morning he approached: "I thought you didn't like me, when you started working here you always ran away from me, so I didn't mean to make you more uncomfortable.";
•You find it cute and admitted to feeling intimate thanks to his beauty and intelligence;
•No a long time after that he asked you out of nowhere.
✦ Jungwoo:
•You I had been teaching him something for days, and he never seemed to understand;
•Even advised him to ask someone else, as you were doubting of your teaching ability;
•But he always made a point of confirming that it should be you;
•One day, you caught him doing it perfectly alone and you went like "😲";
•When he came to you for help again you made him confess that he already knew what to do, and forced him to say the reason for the torture;
•"I was hopping this would made you realize that you like me and ask me out, but you too dumb for that.";
•A few days later, you find yourself having dinner with him, still indignant.
✦ Mark:
•The classic trope of long term friends that are secretly in love with each other;
•Apart from the fact that everyone has already noticed this;
•You always helped each other and spent as much time as possible together in a corner laughing;
•Even though everyone told Mark to come clean, he swore you had a secret life outside of work, maybe even married with kids;
•No one could take the drama anymore, so the team got together and forced you to go out together;
•When you realized there were only the two of you, you thought it was a personal joke, but Mark understood what he had to do;
•It took all night, but he finally confessed and asked you out on a real date.
✦ Haechan:
•You weren't enemies, but you loved to compete with each other;
•Even though it left you with your emotions on edge, your boss didn't care because it meant greater results.
•When you reached the same goal on the same day, you had to break the tie, this time with a prize;
•Unfortunately for your ego, Haechan won and for the prize you had to run out and buy him lunch;
•In the lunch room, you wish him a good meal sarcastically and he forces you to eat with him;
•"You so dumb, if you want a date just say it 🙄";
•"Then we're having dinner tonight 😉".
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✦ author: first time trying it here! sorry for any mistake, english is not my mother language. Hope you like It!!!
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seokka0o · 10 months
Text
ZB1 AS SUBS
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0t6, Smut, Minor do not interact, Headcanon // Warning : sub!idol ;dubcon; bottoming; bondage;somnophilia; free use
Ask: hello bae ! i loved your haobin smut TT could you write more sub zb1 ? or haobin?
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KIM JIWOONG
Shy boy who always gives off a domineering vibe. Jiwoong has mannerisms to be reckoned with, he's always so thoughtful, kind of…needy for attention.
He always comes to you with eyes like he needs something, never saying it directly.
He wants you to feel it so he'll tell you in the most complicated way possible.
"Do you? If you don't, that's fine…I just thought it would be cool"
Pussy drunk, he feels like he always needs to be blowing you to be really happy.
When you accept you can hear him moaning in pleasure just from that, covering your entire vulva with his tongue while you moan and rub his nose on the clit
Be kind and sit on his face please, kitty jiwoong loves when you do that.
Hands squeezing your ass, eyes watching everything you do.
"Good boy, always does me so good"
Jiwoong loves to be praised, treated like the prince he deserves to be, so he can always remember to give his best in everything.
Even during the fuck, where he's usually on top, jiwoong despite not being very vocal, loves to watch you moan, squirm, tell you when he's good for you
Jiwoong is just a sub who needs his approval.
All the time .
ZHANG HAO
What to say? Baby girl energy certainly
You always need to make sure that zhang hao is feeling well, because he is like a puppy
It can also be bottom, becoming a preference.
He is your prized possession and you should always treat him well so he can do the same for you too.
He loves when you ride, so he can always touch your body freely without too much effort.
Make his playground
When by chance he wants something from you and there's no way you can give it at that moment,
then he'll take it
Throwing a tantrum and crying,
he'll find a way to have you naked in his bed the next minute.
Zhang Hao loves cockwarming, hugging your body while feeling your walls trapping him
You stroking his hair and telling him how much you love him is the perfect kind of condition where he wants to be.
"What can I get out of it?" And you need to be convincing.
He's just stating that whenever you want to use him freely he allows it, but all with one condition, because zhang hao is like that.
If you're into something intense enough, grab his neck and watch zhang hao roll his eyes in immeasurable pleasure.
SUNG HANBIN
can also be bottom
vibe from someone who always flashes the beautiful smile to seduce you and then begs for your mercy right after
He has a very sharp tongue, hanbin always expects to receive some punishment for his spoiling acts
Tie him up, show how much you can be superior to his rebellion and then this man goes crazy
His eyes fill with tears as he sees you on top doing whatever you want to him.
Stimulating him in several possible ways, thus also controlling orgasm
Seeing how shaky and tearful he gets when you don't give him what he wants.
"I beg you…don't do this to me"
But deep down he just wants you to keep going, because it feels so good.
From a few slaps on him, mainly on the face, hanbin has a certain urge for sadism
More than he cares to name
Masturbation as a form of punishment is also something you can be adept at
His moans when such well stimulated so priceless
Very melodious, painful, his bunny face says everything about the most submissive personality he has.
KIM TAERAE
brat
In a way you can barely tell but taerae is always testing your patience to the max
because he wants to be punished for it
He's not the type to enjoy a lot of pain,
but a little humiliation is up to him.
"You're a fucking loser, put yourself in your shoes"
something on that level,
maybe worse if you allow him to be treated that way
When taerae enters the sub boy sphere,
it's because he's feeling really comfortable in your presence
Being treated like a complete loser despite his rude mouth is usually what satisfies
To be subjugated and treated like nothing more than a mere insect
And then you can just tell him to stop rubbing his legs to try and relieve himself,
because that's also a way of stimulating and punish himself.
"Can't you control yourself? I already told you that you'll only touch yourself when I say so"
SEOK MATTHEW
He wants to be treated like a princess,
something very similar to zhang hao and the first time you would notice this sub behavior from him
It would be exactly when you don't give him what he wants right away
Matthew doesn't say too much, he shows it in attitude and when you back off is when he feels entitled to make your life hell.
So he becomes the worst kind of Brat, subtly open to dubcon
Him saying he doesn't want you anymore and inciting that in you is something that excites him, because he often wants to be hunted too
Look how bad you are to the point of leaving poor Matthew wanting something
Once he has what he wants he tends to be more obedient.
But until then, you're going to be a little angry.
Matthew is devout, anything that pleases you will please him too, in a way
precisely for giving an air of an inexperienced boy, the air of innocence that hides
matthew secretly wants to be corrupted by you, in the way you approach and define his cute face as your one and only target of corruption
“you like it, right?” : "y-yes"
being challenged to the point of showing the face of a good boy who just wants some relief from the problem between his legs
and if it shows how fragile it is to the point of not being able to do it alone
SHEN QUANRUI
Ricky is the more subtle type,
the one who loves it when you tell him he's doing well and should keep going.
the kind of sub that wants you on top of his commands somehow
Situations during sex will vary,
he should always start until the reactions are disproportionate and so you give him what he needs from you.
he's not vocal, just like he's not the type to take commands, maybe ricky is steps ahead of you in that regard.
the type that is always ready to welcome you, ricky just wants to be helpful
so make free use of it
independent,but especially while he is sleeping.
for ricky it's a dream to wake up with you sucking or riding him and telling him to be good and let you take good care of him
And who is ricky to complain about so much stewardship,
he didn't see him need to move a finger and he would still be being praised for it
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Text
The way pronouns work in Japanese is culturally and linguistically different from how they work in English. This is quite different from how "you" works in English. "You" in Japanese is more associated with a person, and anything related to or speaking to a person in Japanese carries ranking, status, respect, and Pollitnes. The way people talk in anime/manga is completely different from the way people talk in real life.
Japanese people frequently drops pronouns. Instead of saying "you" to call a person you are speaking in Japanese, speakers usually use the person's name with an honorific like さん = San or their title. Because some Japanese people feel uncomfortable. But it depends on one's personality. Japanese people don’t usually call someone with chan or kun/ nickname or yobisute when they meet them for the first name. And you can always ask people how they want you to address them casually. If you don’t know the name, just skip the subject.
Eg:
1. 「あんたの名前は?」 = anata no namae wa? = What is your name?
「お名前は?」 = onamae wa? = What is your name?
2. 「お仕事は何をされているのですか?」 = oshigoto wa nani o sareteiru nodesu ka? = What do you do?
「お仕事は?」 = o shigoto wa? = What do you do?
3. 「あなたはどこに住んでいますか?」 = anata wa doko ni sundeimasu ka? = Where do you live?
「どこに住んでいますか?」 = doko ni sundeimasu ka? = Where do you live?
In manga, it sounds a bit stiff to use character names all the time, so pronouns are used instead.
Omae お前 : you (rough)
Japanese has many second person pronoun and Omae is one of them. It is super rude if you use it with strangers. This word normally guys would use. It is okay to use when you're talking to your close friends. But if you use this word to a stranger or old people they would think you want to have a fight. And it is often used in a derogatory way or when you fight. So, guys normally should call each other omae if they're close friends. And also, occasionally it is used in a friendly manner. As blunt as it may seem,but there are affectionate husbands or boyfriends who call their wife/girlfriend お前. And also there are parents who address their children お前.
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Teme てめえ: You (rude)
Another word for 'you' (the person before me) which is rude is "Teme". It is also a second person pronoun and it is pretty insulting. It's generally only used when angry. It would use to call someone teme to start a fight.This word is used by rough people basically.
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The word omae & Teme are still use in real life by some people.
Anata あなた : You
(It's also spelled アナタ with katakana)
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Anata is supposed to be a polite second person pronoun but in Japanese anata hardly uses in conversation. Anata is more polite than "kimi" Or "Omae". Anata is fine if you are talking to general unspecific "You", like talking to a group of people and not taking to a specific person. Even though some people use it sometimes but it may sound kind of aggressive if you say. If you say "anata" they would think you are looking down on them or would think you looks like bossy. Also, if the person is superior to you, you can call them by their titles. Using "anata" to address someone who is older or of higher status can be seen as disrespectful. Some older people might call you "anata" and some old people wouldn't. Even with someone the same age, using あなた would feel a bit awkward. And "anata" also sounds like you're better than others.
Among married or dating couples, there is no effect of age/rank factors because they are equal. Generally, wives call their husbands "Anata" or husbands first name with "-san". Technically あなた is a gender free word so both husband and wife can use. And it is not just for a married couple. And also never use "Anata" with clients, business partners or even work colleagues and also don't use "Anata" for someone superior like your teachers, friends, parents, etc.
Anta あんた : you
(It's also spelled アンタ with katakana)
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あんた is for both men and women. It is fairly casual and it could sound pretty rude to many situations so be careful when to use. Anta is a short version or contracted version of anata. It is a rude or less informal way of saying "you". When you use あんた in quarrels, it has insulting or aggressive tone. Japanese people often use it with really close friends because they know it's not used in a seriously rude context and same as あんた uses when an elderly person is talking to a familiar person. So あんた also uses to express familiarity.
Kimi 君(きみ) : You
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Using "Kimi" in real life is rude. If you call them "kimi", they would get annoyed. It depends on the person. It is mostly used by men. If it is used in song or poetry it sounds romantic or cute but in real life it sounds weird. Kimi is commonly used in Japan's vertical, hierarchical society, where elders speak to young people and children, seniors speak to their juniors, teachers speak to their students and parents addressing their children etc. Some men call women with their family name + 君(kun) . Somtimes bosses use "kimi" when talking to their employees or family name with "-kun" to male employees. Though it can be insulting if "Kimi" used to address elders. Therefore, Kimi is used to refer to people who are probably inferior to you, such as people of a lower grade than you or of a lower age than you. So calling someone with 君 (kimi) might sounds snobbish and you may have to be careful when you use it. And also kimi uses the same kanji as "kun" which place after a person's name. You don’t usually call your female friend with an honorific, kun. Calling a female friend with "kimi" not necessary gives closeness. It may give someone the impression that you are looking down on that person, so be careful. If someone you know calls you with your first name and drops -kun and -san because they feels close to you. Using san is too formal between friends.There are husbands who refer to their wife as きみ.
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annieofhearts · 2 months
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I'm sorry, but going into posts related to Stranger Things to show your "moral superiority" and telling people how they should or should not feel or act is NOT going to help anyone, least of all the cause you seem to be invested in. No one joins an important cause by feeling shamed and certainly not if you go about it like some sort of weird morality police. Also, if I don't know you and have never interacted with you before, your judgement feels 1. pointless 'cause I don't know who you are so your personal opinion of me doesn't really mean much; and 2. just rude and like you're trying to shit on someone else to make yourself look (and feel) better. That is not how you promote any ideas or get people to "see things your way". Also pointing out the very obvious stuff to someone who is already invested in a particular cause is just a big waste of time and honestly just... dumb?
I get that sometimes we read something that makes us feel like "oh why would you care about that? that's so silly. there are more important things going on in the world right now!!!", which is a valid sentiment and I feel like that sometimes too. But this is tumblr, it's a place where people make their silly little posts about their silly little characters, 'cause sometimes that's what they feel like doing, that's what brings them some sort of comfort and joy. Doesn't mean they don't care about real people and real life issues, be so fucking serious right now. I have already talked about my feelings towards part of the Stranger Things cast/crew and how I will no longer support them financially (not buying anything official and certainly not watching on Netflix). I'm not ashamed of that, and I'm not a worse person than you simply because I still somewhat enjoy this dumb show and their silly little characters. Hollywood is filled with z*on*sts and the US as a whole is filled with people that support lsr* el and their acts (they are out there supporting it right now, as I make this silly post). Maybe, if you actually care about the Palestinian cause, you could try searching for a way to help the message reach more people? Perhaps even talking to people in your real life that are pro-lsr* el, helping to educate them on this matter or doing one of the hundreds of things being shared here on a daily basis. Just a constructive suggestion. 'Cause you're currently helping zero people if your plan is to just go shaming them in their own posts, in your quest to make them feel guilty or morally beneath you... Do better please. 🫶🏽
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femmefatalevibe · 7 months
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Hi there femme💌.
Do you have any advice on how to deal with people who judge you for " trying to hard "?
I observed that people who don't pay attention to the way they look, they way they speak, or put any effort into their appearance in general, tend to be judgmental of those who like to look after themselves and look their best. I think this comes from a point of feeling inferior or bad that they don't put much effort into their image, mannerism, persona, so they try to make themselves feel better by dragging others down. Others might really feel like it's a waste of time or money to invest in anything related to clothes, self care , good diet etc, and think they're superior because they Don't waste money.
For example, I wear perfume everyday and I was told that nobody cares about they way I smell so why I'm wasting money on fragrances. I don't do it so others will tell me I smell good, I do it so I can smell my perfume around me. Or that I dress too elegantly when I could just wear some jeans with t shirt and sport shoes.
I'm honestly so tired of this ... and it's not men who told me this , but women. Looking after yourself is seen by some women as trying too hard to get a man's attention, or that it's for your own egocentric desires.
I don't live in the most expensive part of the city and I'm honestly so tired of these people's mentality. Even my coworkers are starting to annoy me because they act rude, they have a "street vocabulary ", are always gossiping and I don't really partake in their discussions, maybe that's why I keep hearing bad things about myself.
Hi love! I completely agree with your observations and insights regarding why people criticize those who take pleasure in diligently curating their appearance for "trying too hard" because it makes them feel self-conscious.
I think it's best to remember that when they say these negative sentiments to you, they're addressing you like they're talking to a mirror. You're merely in the way. Their words are reflections of their own inner critics. These sentiments have nothing to do with you. If you say anything at all, just say: "You're right" to shut the negativity down and provide these people with the validation they desperately need to hear. Remain unbothered by others' preoccupations with your ways of indulging in self-care. Maybe they should redirect some of the energy they utilize to resent your decisions to appease theirs.
Always remember: Those who are successful in an area of life feel no need to criticize those behind them on their journey – they either offer support or are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice those still finding their way to the next level of their lives.
Hope this helps xx
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
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Omg that modern au human kink post is so hot you are a genius
Imagine being a human and sitting there knowing your elf friend just obsessed with extreme human kink and their question to you regarding to being started to get more and more fetish-y. You are fighting the urge to just let the elf fuck you silly so bad
— RED anon
More modern au loser high elf with a human fetish.
With the age of the Internet and endless porn sources, the elf would become uttered deranged and obsessed as they watch one video after another. Completely inaccurate and fetishising of humans but the elf doesn't know that.
And god they can't afford letting anyone else find out about this, a whole high elf who holds a very important position in their elf society is secretly a degenerate loser who won't stop frequnting these "ask a human" nsfw forums.
But it gets harder everyday to even interact with humans in life. The elf can't have a 5 minutes conversation with one without their brain imagining them bent over and covered in cum. The elf's imagination getting more and more preverse the longer the human is talking to them.
So they cut the conversation short, rudely even, and immediately leave to find the nearest bathroom to relief themselves in. The human just rolling their eyes because yeah of course they left rudely, just elf nature eh? Completely unware of the true reason.
Yet somehow, fate brings the elf a very close friend online who is always sweet to them and listens to their problems. Of course, they haven't told them about their human obsession yet. They don't want to creep out the only true friend they've made in a long time.
It doesn't even cross their mind the possibility of them being a human, they are so brainwashed by the erotic novels and self insert dating sims that they almost forgot how actual humans act and instead replaced it with a cum-hungry slut fantasy version of a human.
Maybe their friend is a fellow elf? A dwarf? They'd even accept a gnome at this point. Just a friend, a true friend please corellon bless them with this one thing.
The elf doesn't even register what they were thinking when they immediately invited you to their home as a first meeting. But all logic and common sense left their brain the secone they opened the door to be met with the most delicious looking human they have ever seen
All cutely dressed up in their own human fashion and smiling so sweetly, the elf could feel their own arousal building up just from a simple smile how depraved were they??
A human, sitting on their bed. The same bed they fucked themselves silly on at the thought of a warm tight human hole.
They can't stop staring at you, as if you were a mirage and would vanish the second they look away. The urge to touch you, feel you and smell you. Oh that intoxicating human smell, Corellon please save them.
Excusing themselves to go make drinks, they immediately make a turn for the bathroom in their home instead.
It's impossible how wet and sensitive they are while still completely untouched. It barely takes a minute, and they're making a mess and spilling over the edge. They can still smell you, even here they can still smell you, and it's driving them crazy.
It's your fault, after all. For indulging all their borderline inappropriate questions about human culture, answering it without an idea of the effect it had on the elf. You're just a seducing little minx that needs to take responsibility for corrupting them and making them lust after you.
It doesn't make sense. Elves are clearly superior in every ascept. So why is this one so turned on by of how defenceless humans are while they sleep, of how they have no control over their dreams. Of how they'd have to sit through an entire wetdream the whole 8 hours of sleep if their brains deemed it, how they'd wake up all wet and aroused and have to deal with the aftermath of their silly little mind getting so excited during sleep.
Or how they seem to speak so openly without regards for common decency in elf standards. How fast they talk and how honest and direct they admit to very private things. How they annouce openly on soical media that they're trying for a kid, that would get a couple shunned in elf Society.
....maybe they should go a second time, you'll obediently wait in their bedroom while they pleasure themselves to the thought of you, wouldn't you? Yes you would because that's what any good obedient submissive human whore would do.
Aren't you just a very good human? Yes the best for them. They can't stop and suddenly a second time becomes a third and a fourth.
They're completely unaware of you snooping around in their bedroom, finding all their human books and shameful porn. They don't remember to close their 30 open tabs of the most depraved fantasies about humans ever. Rows and rows of different forums of other races sharing their most disgusting human wetdreams, talking about how much they want to make a half-human one day. Sharing their own folder collection of the best human porn they could find.
By the time the elf finally comes back, polite front on and apologising for taking so long making drinks. They find you completely laying on their bed, casually flipping through one of their porn magazines, unimpressed.
You look at them, your fingers toying with the buttons of your blouse. The elf feels their breath stuck in their throat.
Slowly exposing your chest and letting the blouse fall away. "It's really hot in here huh" you say, stretching your arms above your head and putting yourself on full display.
You wonder how much teasing you can get away with before their cords snap.
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cerealandchoccymilk · 10 months
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Trigun Bookclub: Vash's Speech (FLOP EDITION...)
all bookclub posts
so i wrote this entire thing over a span of a day and a half. and found out just as i was finishing it that the ultradeep™ vash lore analysis point i wanted to make is actually NOT in the og trigun. [here's my mental breakdown post lol]
but i spent so much time and energy on this that i cant just say whelp! and delete it... so i'm posting it anyways. the straight-up incorrect parts are crossed out and some post-realization notes are in red. theres also a few paragraphs of postscript commentary/rambling in purple at the end of the post.
read it if youre bored i guess. but take it all with a grain of salt.
in the future (once we get to trimax vash+knives interaction) i will write the version of this that my memory intended, with an actual conclusion that makes sense lol
Mini-entry this time because I got consumed by linguistics brain worms :P But I wanted to make sure I talked about Vash's speech and his usage of pronouns!
A bit of background before we get into the analysis:
Japanese pronouns are very different from English. As the Wikipedia page puts it, "The use of pronouns, especially when referring to oneself and speaking in the first person, vary between gender, formality, dialect and region where Japanese is spoken."
The styles of spoken Japanese in general are another can of worms.... They're similar worms so I'll be touching on them a little, but it's not that relevant yet.
In real life, people have multiple pronouns (and speech styles) that they switch between depending on the situation, like with friends and family, at work, in front of kids, etc. For example, I primarily use 俺 online (along with joke/slang pronouns for funsies like 漏れ or おれっち), 自分 or 僕 in public depending on the person, and 私 in closeted situations. My cis male JP-school classmate uses 俺 with friends/family, used to use 私 in class at first, and then transitioned to 僕 as he got more familiar with the teachers.
Although this sort of code-switching happens all the time IRL, it's way less frequently illustrated in fiction, both for consistency's sake and because fictional characters just don't care as much about status. That's why I thought what's going on with Vash is particularly interesting!
Details continued below...
--original readmore position--
Here are the connotations for the two first-person pronouns that Vash uses (pulled from Wikipedia):
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ore/おれ/俺 - informal - males - Frequently used by men. Establishes a sense of "masculinity". Can be seen as rude depending on the context. Emphasises one's own status when used with peers and with those who are younger or of lesser status. Among close friends or family, its use conveys familiarity rather than "masculinity" or superiority. It was used also by women until the late Edo period and still is in some dialects. Also oi in Kyushu dialect.
boku/ぼく/僕 - formal/informal - males - Used by males of all ages; very often used by boys; can be used by females but then carries tomboyish or feminist connotations. Perceived as humble, but can also carry an undertone of "feeling young" when used by males of older age. Also used when casually giving deference; "servant" uses the same kanji (僕 shimobe). Can also be used as a second-person pronoun toward male children (English equivalent – "kid" or "squirt").
(the usage of boku as a 2pp is actually part of a different phenomenon--if you're interested in that kotolabo's video explains it better than i ever could (eng captions available))
And these are the notes for every time Vash has used a first-person pronoun in the span that I've analyzed so far, which is until Chapter #06. I'll be adding onto this in the future as my annotations continue. no need anymore. i skimmed the rest and found out that, aside from a childhood flashback, vash uses exclusively ore after chapter #05.
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The first instance is in Chapter #02, when he cries in French.
「なぜ僕がこんな目にあうのママン 何も悪いことしてないのにみんなが僕を狙うよママン」(独り言) "Why do things like this keep happening to me, maman? I don't do anything bad, but everyone's always after me, maman!" (to himself)
Here he uses boku, the softer pronoun. However, because he's putting on a "helpless French boy" persona, this one actually doesn't say much about Vash (other than that he's being silly).
The second time is later in the same chapter, when surrounded by the women of April City.
「奴に…会うまでは!! 俺は立ち止まる訳にはいかないんだ!!」(主婦たち) "Until I see him again... I cannot afford to stop moving!" (Housewives)
This time he uses ore, the rougher and more masculine pronoun. The situation is very tense; he has several guns pointed at him. This is also the first instance we see the trauma and hurt Vash holds inside. Overall he's very desperate here. We can see in a bit that ore is his "default." He drops his usual polite/kind tone to be as sincere as he can with the women. I think he can't afford to code-switch and be polite because this is a very personal and emotional moment for him. This doesn't mean his tone is necessarily rude (in-universe!!! probably better not to talk to strangers like this IRL); he still uses relatively soft language.
The next two are in Chapter #04, both when he refuses the sandsteamer guy's job offers.
「やだやだやだやだ 僕は争いごと嫌いなの!!」(砂蒸気の人) "No, no, no, no! I don't like trouble!" (Sandsteamer guy)
「僕は客なの!!この車の警備態勢にはチョーー期待してるから ヨロシクね!!」(砂蒸気の人) "I am a passenger! I have great faith in your security, so I entrust everything to you, okay?" (Sandsteamer guy)
He uses boku here. As we'll see in future instances, this is the pronoun he uses in front of other people and is the one he chooses most frequently. He constantly avoids trouble, so he always uses soft language and the humbler pronoun. nope it was just out of politeness towards a stranger and trying to sound less assertive/more harmless(?) to get out of the situation
In the next page, Vash talks to himself during his piss break.
「…まったくもう 保険屋の2人組といい… 俺(おら)ァもっとひっそりとやってきたいのに」(独り言) "...Jeez! As if those two insurance girls weren't already enough... I was hoping for a nice, quiet trip." (to himself)
Although the pronunciation here is oraa, it's a reduced form of ore wa (wa is a grammatical particle). His tone here is sort of laid-back (and tired, as you can tell). Again, this is his default 1st-person pronoun.
A few moments later, on the last page of the chapter, he says,
「よく分かった ツラかったろう!!大丈夫だ 僕にまかせな 悪い様にはしねえぜ!!」(カイト) "I understand. It must have been so hard! It's okay... I'll take care of you. I won't let anything bad happen to you again!" (to Kaito)
Here he switches back to boku. He does this in front of almost everyone, but this is especially the case because he's speaking to a child he wants to protect. Using the boku pronoun gives a softer, more approachable vibe.
In Chapter #05, he goes back to ore when he talks to Kaito about No Man's Land.
「時々考えるよ この惑星に…来た事が本当に俺達にとって幸せな事なのか ってね」(カイト) "I sometimes wonder... Was our arrival on this planet actually something for us to be happy about? ...Y'know?"
From here on Vash is more familiar with Kaito, enough to open up a bit about his true feelings about humanity. It is also partially Vash talking to himself. irrelevant/coincidence
In Chapter #06, Vash talks to himself in front of Kaito.
「間違いない!!俺にゃー死神か貧乏神が2ケタ以上ついてるんだ」(独り言・カイト) Overhaul: "Why do death and destruction always follow right behind me?!" Literal: "I swear, I have at least 2 digits’ worth of death-gods or poverty-gods haunting me!!"
He uses ore here again. At this point, he's pretty much completely familiar with Kaito, and considers him a friend/teammate. The speech here is very casual. Skimming through the later chapters, I was able to confirm that from Chapter #05 on, Vash uses exclusively ore.
wait
AAAND CUT! this is where my dumb ass realizes that vashs speech is different between trigun and trimax, and that the conclusion i planned on making was trimax-exclusive :) now forget everything you just read in this post past the wikipedia table screenshot because itll be completely irrelevant in less than a week!!
trimax vash uses boku 99% of the time and ore exclusively in front of knives as far as i can remember. i wanted to say stuff about how he is always wearing the kind persona as a mask and shows his true emotions (aka his sheer trauma and rage) in front of knives and knives only
but like. he really doesnt in og trigun. thats just him being kind to strangers??? and barely has any deep meaning to it. it doesnt mean the individual analyses are wrong but theyre definitely not making the point i was going to make at the end of this post and it just aint that deep.
very frustrated with myself rn... but the 2 good things i got out of this are 1) i wont have to write the pronoun explanation again and 2) i skimmed through all of trigun so future annotations might be faster/cost less spoons since i already have some things to write down in mind.
This will definitely get a part 2+ in the future, especially once we get to see Knives. the redo will just be a new single-part post. this stuff will most likely only become relevant once we see knives+vash interaction in trimax The Meryl speech analysis we mentioned in a past post is currently in the works, and will also be part of this speech series!
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anti-katsuki-lounge · 4 months
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Y'know... I wish people would understand that fiction is just that- fiction- and you're allowed to engage with it and enjoy it as you see fit (with certain boundaries, of course.) You're allowed to enjoy evil characters, taboo topics, disgustingly rotten premises as you see fit in fiction because it is just that- fiction. It's a safe way to experiment with something because it doesn't actually involve you. Enjoying disturbing media does not mean that you condone those actions IRL. At. All.
That's why tags and trigger warnings exist. That's why tags like "tw:toxic relationship" or "tw:abuse" or more explicit tags exist.
The difference between fans who enjoy and peruse such media and toxic bkg stans (specifically the toxic ones or just the naive ones, shh) is that the former are aware of the situation and their involvement, but the latter are either very naive and/or delusional tbh.
Stans like the latter firmly believe that bkg is genuinely means the people around him no harm and cares deep down inside. They are completely convinced by what is told to them instead of what is shown. It's people like these that genuinely believe bkdk is canon, that hori will make it happen and will align the fucking stars with their bare hands and hold your unborn children hostage in an attempt to convince you that it's a healthy relationship. It's not. It's not. It's really not.
bkg is a bully. He is crass, he is rude, he's downright cruel and insanely selfish. He's borderline narcissistic (I don't like to throw around that word and diminish it, but it's the truth.) He hurt Izuku with the intention of hurting Izuku. He found pleasure in it. He found pleasure in it, god. Hurting Izuku made him happy. Hurting Izuku made him feel confident, superior. Would you do that to your loved ones lmao?
I've met bkdks who go "yeah that's fucked up but I kinda like it" and?? That's so cool?? If you saw him irl you'd bury him, you understand that it's toxic but you enjoy the spice and that's okay! It's great that you understand that boundary!
And then I've met bkdks like dekachhan lmfaoo 😭
I swear they're a hivemind, this one person argued with me for four hours even though I told them I didn't want to engage any further within the first twenty minutes. When I blocked them on one acc they literally contacted me with another. And a third. A third. Who DOES that 💀
Who has the patience for that shit? And all to tell me bkdk is healthy?
When I compared the fuck to endeavour they defended him too because Rei apparently tripped?? What the fuck is going on?? I'm genuinely so confused
I say this sincerely- if you like toxic characters and are down bad for them, that is entirely, entirely your prerogative! Read that smut, write those fics, peruse all those tags. Discuss those things with other people who feel the same way you do as long as they're not too young and they consent to it- genuinely, if you wanna fuck endy bkg, fantasize all you want. Do it in fiction. You wanna write dreadfully toxic fics? Do it! Your prerogative!
Just stay in your fucking lane, your goddamn tags and don't harass people. You're h*rny, that's fine, stop making it everyone else's problem, sheesh.
All of this. Like I’ve said before, if you like a character for whatever reason, that’s completely valid. There are toxic and evil characters I like. The issue is when you try to force your beliefs onto other people or are so disillusioned by your headcanons that you can’t tell the difference between canon and fiction.
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