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inkblot-inc · 7 months

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The Bigger Picture

Summary: See what happens when you undermine your boss AKA the one who's paying your bills...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): This is an 18+ AU so MINORS DNI. Also Dark Themes in general. There's smut in the first half of this one: strap-on usage (r giving) oral sex (Wanda recieving). There's some pretty crass language as per usual on my end, I can’t think of much else but let me know.

Note(s): I present another the start of another AU, ladies and gentlefriends! Where did it come from? The deep reaches of my MIND not all that deep really, I just can't stop my brain from scratching like an addict- but it's pretty decent for fall/spoopy season I think. I hope y'all enjoy :3

Word Count: Just a bit shy of 2.1k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

You remember seeing the world through younger eyes. The scene around you is blurry and out of focus with only the barest hint of awareness of tears running down your face. The only thing you can make out is a man’s back, his imposing stature, his cropped hair, and how his figure seems to get smaller and smaller as he walks away from you. His apathy is the clearest; his steps never falter, not does her look back at you. You feel like an outside viewer as you watch a hand, your hand, continue to reach for him. You fight in another person’s grip as you're being dragged away.

“Baba please! Help me, I don’t wanna go!”

The lack of response through the high winds only made your yelling feel louder before your vision was then blocked by a hood over your face. Even if you couldn’t identify with the anguish anymore it still hissed at your nerves, grasping and pulling at you like a desperate whore for your attention…

The continued thump, thump, thumping sound throughout the room brought you back into the moment as you continued pounding the woman beneath you into the velvety couch cushions beneath. The woman’s wavy red hair splayed out and her nails digging into your shoulders as she let her moans fall from her mouth in an unending stream.

She gave a shout as she hit her orgasm and you watched her green eyes glaze over as she gave you a hazy smile, you returned a smaller one of your own. One of her hands slid up your chest to caress your throat, fingers running over the scarring coating the entirety of it.

Her eyes scanned yours in open concern. “Is everything okay? Where did you go just now?”

You merely squinted, “old-times...’s still loud.” Your voice came out gravely and with a creek.

With your thumb caressing her waist, you leaned back to sit upright before using a hand to move her half-unbuttoned blouse further down her arms. With more of the redhead's skin exposed and your head still swimming, you went back in to leave kisses ranging from her neck, down to her collarbone, and even further to the valley of her breasts. You felt the woman's hand take the back of your neck to have you take one of the mounds in your mouth.

The hand you had resting on the woman's waist moved to squeeze her thigh while you eased your strap out of her with a few more slow strokes. You released her flushed nipple with a small plop, your saliva slightly glistening in the light of the office space before you slid off of the couch to the floor.

Getting to a kneel, you keep your gaze on the eyes of the woman in front of you while reaching down by her ankles and fully removing her already ruined panties.

A glint sparks in your eyes as you stare at her still dripping pussy. You lick a stripe up her entrance before lightly sucking on her clit, causing the woman above you to jolt with a gasp.

The woman watches you go back to eating her out with a small crackling chuckle. "You love this, don't you?"

You only look up to meet her eyes, your mouth still working on her. You blink slowly before doubling your efforts on her pussy.

Her head falls back as she continues to buck into your mouth. "Yesyesyes, hah, just like that baby," She isn't especially loud, but the pleading laced in her voice is what drives you to your own brink.

You sink into the moans that come from her lips, soon turning into breathless whimpers as she brings your head impossibly closer to her heat. As ribbons of red made their way into your ears, you let her fog invade your mind and take over.

Everything else melted away into oblivion. You were older now as you watched the tattered dirt path become peaceful grasses, the people became well-rooted trees in full bloom. Armored cars and loaded rifles dissipated into mere accents of a pleasant scene. And at the center of it all, was the same woman as now. her velvet greens staring back at you with a warmth that could make the Niganda sun seem cold.

The redhead's grip tightened in your hair as her movements became more erratic against your face. You brought a hand up to play with her clit and work to bring her over the edge again.

Things were much simpler this way. No confusing flashes of people you don’t remember, no random jolts of phantom pain. You were sure to live in the moment, and your most recent memories didn’t hurt you to think about and when the details became fuzzy you almost missed them.

Your head rested on her inner thigh after you helped her ride out her high. Her finger rubbed just beneath your eye as your eyes locked, reveling in each other. "There you are, right here with me."

And it was all because of her. Wanda.

Wanda held your chin in her hand before she swiped her thumb over your bottom lip and tasted herself. Even with a fresh afterglow setting in, the fire in her eyes never abated. Wanda's power was always there.

That same energy that let her linger in your mind and relieve you of that lost momentum and gave you stability to latch for. You’d do anything to keep that. You’d do anything to keep Wanda.

As you helped her get her panties and skirt back on and make sure the back of her skirt was the front again, your mind was calm at a gentle hum, distant screams of the past going ignored as you helped fix up the couch of her associate’s office.

----------

Wanda’s mood had noticeably soured since you’d had your fill of each other. Her face had become a mask of neutrality with traces of agitation she just couldn’t seem to remove as she flipped through the papers settled on the desk. It was less decorated than her own; she’d hardly spared a glance at the few picture frames placed on top of the hardwood either. She didn’t want to see more than she’d had to for the day.

Standing up from the leather couch settled on the side of the room, you wandered around the rather plain space aimlessly, looking at the fully stacked bookshelves, more than half the titles going over your head with disinterest. Settling by where Wanda was seated, you faced the door as you heard incoming noise before the doorknob could even jostle.

Murky blue eyes startled as he caught sight of the two of you in his office. The older man wheeled himself further into his office before having the door shut behind him. Your eyes stayed on him, unwavering. “Wanda, to what do I owe this unexpected visit? I was called out of a very important-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Better yet, who do you think you are, Xavier?” Wanda wasn’t interested in wasting time with false pleasantries.

“What exactly are you referring to, Wanda? I’ve done nothing but do as you’ve asked.” Wanda carefully kept her face blank as she observed the bald man.

“Keeping a wire on not only my vehicles, but my associates’ as well. Getting your grunts to try and tap my phone calls. They’ve gotten especially sloppy within the past few weeks, by the way. You should talk with Scott about that. All this to gain the favor of one Mr. William Stryker,” She placed the photos one of her skulkers took from their meeting a few nights ago on the table.

“Is that exact enough for you, Charles?”

You watch the man’s shoulders tense, a crease forming in his brow. You can clearly smell his nerves building while Wanda is still deathly calm. Her hands stay steepled in front of her face by her mouth, her eyes squint every now and then as she continues to observe the man.

“I've only given false information I assure you-”

“I know it is, because I basically spoon fed it to you and your men. You know nothing I don't want you to EVEN with you haphazardly bugging my house. Now, what I want to know is how you didn’t think I’d catch on. Do you think I’m stupid, Charles?” There is a noticeable edge in her voice now and the hairs on the back of your neck began to bristle, reacting to her aggravation.

Charles spoke up quickly “It was a part of the plan to have eyes in higher places, for the sake of all mutants, Wanda!”

The accent of her voice grew thick as her tone dropped lower. “Do not try to insult my intelligence, old man. You’ve done things here and there to try and undermine my headship when you think I won’t notice, but you will not pull this. Stryker is a sad little leech who wants to eliminate us all and has no qualms about being vocal about it. You want to try and make nice, fondle the balls of a man who wouldn’t bat an eye to exterminate mutants? You simply won’t be classified among us.”

As Wanda spoke those last few words, you watched as a familiar red aura surrounded Charles, her eyes glowing bright as Charles howled in pain as a pale blue aura rose out of his body where he sat. You almost thought Wanda was going to kill him then and there before his screams settled down.

Charles was breathing heavily, his form hunched over in his chair before his eyes widened with realization. “My powers…”

“You wanted to appease the mortal man, now you can live and die counted as one of them. Your bootlicking wife will be too once my people find her.”

“Hee-he-hick,” A feral giggle erupted from your mouth as you watched him carry on belligerently.

“You leave Moira out of this! we’ve done nothing but look out for you, Wanda! Your father would-”

“What did I say about insulting my intelligence? You and my father were at odds throughout his entire headship. You know nothing of what he would do nor what he would want.”

She slid more photos onto the table, the other man in them tickled something in your throat as recognition passed through you.

Wanda tapped on the man's face with her pointer finger, "This man. Tell me where he is."

Charles peered over to look at the photo, his nerves a bit all over the place. "Pierce? I've no idea Wanda, he's been gone for days now. You have to believe me,"

Wanda tutted her tongue as she brought her hands back in front of her. "I don't have to do anything, but I do believe you. Unfortunately for you that makes you completely useless to me, Charles." She pursed her lips in a faux pout.

You could almost see the man shaking in his chair as he went on indignantly. You wound up tuning him out as he kept going on about loyalty and nonsense.

‘Do I kill him now?’

Wanda reached back for your neck, running her thumb over the scarring over your throat. “We’re just about done here, but Charles can see himself out, I believe.”

Charles couldn’t even properly understand what was going on right away because, one: He was in the middle of explaining how the original members of the syndicate needed to stick together, and two: He can’t read minds anymore. I mean, what’s he going to do now?

“You can go see if the college across town has any openings, but you’ve been relieved of your position with Maximoff Unlimited as well as the Scarlet Syndicate which will be vacant as of today, effective immediately. Now you can roll yourself out of this office, or I can have Y/n here escort you out. They don't seem too keen on being delicate with you.”

You tilted your head as a choppy rumble passed your lips. The prospect of handling the man yourself was very appealing right now. Charles likely recognized this as he made his way to the door himself. Red mist opens the door for him.

“Smart choice. So you do have some sense left. Oh, and Charles?”

The man stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn to look at Wanda.

“The next time you try to throw me or my company under the bus, remember who put you in that wheelchair.”

#marvel #marvel one shots #the bigger picture #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #???wanda maximoff #hyena!mutant!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #scarlet syndicate au #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

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allisonlol · 2 years

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Wahh tysm for doing my request and I love your blogs<3

-Fyodor,Dazai and chuuya simp

And can I request how Fyodor, Chuuya,Dazai will react if their S/o randomly sit on their lap and moan then their S/o say "I want you"

And yes sorry again about my grammar ;-;

a/n: Y'ALL CHILL OMFG- jk jk i love this req let's go!! writing fyodor's part fr gave me butterflies??

warnings: nsfw (duh), mostly suggestive but kinda explicit?? idk

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) Sitting in Their Lap & Saying 'I Want You'

Dazai

this mf had been teasing you ALL DAY at work

fleeting touches as he passed by, whispering words in your ear, looking you up and down from across the room

at one point you'd pulled him to the side and begged him to take you in an empty office room; that's how desperate you were

BUT...he'd refused. had simply smiled innocently at you and said "shouldn't we get back to work?"

so, needless to say, you were more than a little worked up by the end of the day :')

by now it was evening, and the last of the agency members had left except for you and dazai

you were putting away some files when the idea popped into your mind...it was your turn to tease him now

your desperation from earlier returns, and you stride over to dazai's desk before yanking the files from his hand, throwing them on the desk, and swiftly taking a seat in his lap

ngl he was surprised for a split second before giving you a coy smile & wrapping his arms around your waist

and that's when you lean forward and whisper "please, i want you" as needily as possible

^also making sure to move your hips back and forth for an added measure

his composure DROPS. buries his face in your neck while taking shaky breaths

practically rips your clothes off while shooting glances at the door and that's when you know you're in for it

Chuuya

lol did y'all see that chuuya won the "hottest bsd man" poll on twitter?? deserved

but anyway

you & your bf had been so busy the past week that you hadn't had any time for sex?!

your days had been spent running around on countless missions, and then by the time y'all got home all you did was collapse into bed

so...you're both a bit pent up

therefore once you finally had a less busy day, you decided to mess with him

you & chuuya were in his office: him at his desk finishing paperwork, and you in a chair across the room scrawling down a report for the day

^you finished your report and were staring at him lol, zoned out while admiring how pretty he looked while focused

and ngl it was making you feel all hot and bothered!!

figuring you both could use a break, you hopped up from the chair and approached his desk

chuuya gives you a tired smile as you approach, but his face quickly turns to confusion when you shove his chair back and drop yourself in his lap??

"baby..." you look up at him with the most pleading eyes you can muster, "i want you"

omfg. bro turns 50 shades of RED

you're all pressed up against him and you feel him start to get,,,excited while his breathing quickens

he's staring at you all wide-eyed and surprised until he regains control and pushes you back against the desk, looming over you & intending to give you just what you want

Fyodor

so, fyodor had been denying you recently?? every time you hinted that you wanted sex he would write you off & say some "just wait a little longer, dear" ???

you KNEW he was only doing it to tease and get a reaction out of you...and it was working

you were feeling so pent up that you'd contemplated just throwing yourself on the ground and begging him (certainly what he wanted), but instead opted for a less humiliating way

you were both preparing for bed when you couldn't stand it any longer

fyodor was already in bed, reading a book and pretending not to notice the way you were needily watching him from across the room

you approached him, slowly pushing the book out of the way before settling yourself in his lap

gently cradling his face in your hands, you're both silent for a few moments before you whisper "please fedya, i need you"

fyodor is looking up at you emotionlessly, and you feel tears of desperation start to prick your eyes

^once he sees this, his face softens and his lips twinge upwards into a smile

you let out a surprised squeak as he suddenly flips you over so he's above you, his arms trapping you on either side

"well, i certainly can't deny you when you ask like that, can i?"

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky

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plasticfangtastic · 6 months

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American Royalty. Ch. 10

A Homelander X F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: sorry for the delay, I wrote another fic and that ate my time, hope y'all like the chapter, there's only 3 chapters left and the epilogue and now that kinktober its done I should be able to post the remaining chapters on time, if ya like to be on the taglist plz leave a comment with a request. prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance, some spicy and murder.

Chapter Ten

Reconsidering

A lavish prison.

More rooms than ideas to fill them with– mere latrines for kisch.

Floors that screamed ugly opulence, the kind that made you yearn for the simplicity of owning nothing, of forced minimalism... or tasteful decor.

When you cracked your neck to witness the enormity of the seven story mansion (not counting the cellar basement and the terrace) the price tag had frightened you to the core more than the height, making you feel more than inadequate in visitation, as you had come in jeans and an ironic t-shirt to accompany him (not that you had a choice)-- as Homelander pulled you around from floor to floor, forcing you to walk alongside him from beige rooms to white rooms, past rich dark wood doors. So heavy they hurt your wrist, you worried for your future.

These were the things you could only witness in pictures.

“I hate the carpet.” He said coyly, trying to stand close to you without frightening you.

Looking down at the rug you’ve taken your shoes off for-- it was luxurious, it was nice for the somewhat dark library, the smell of curated cedar and walnut genuinely intoxicating. From a second glance it matched his taste in your mind, but you guess he was a lot more finicky than he already was– perhaps it wasn’t soft enough for him, you thought.

“I'd rather we just have the floors bare– it’ll be easier to clean.”

“Concerned about the maids already?”

“Maids?”

“Honey, you don’t think I expect you to clean this thing by yourself?” He gave you a playful pat in the back– even with superspeed you’ll wear yourself out…”

The real estate agent who kept rubbernecking at your direction, raised his eyebrow as he saw how stiff you were next to your fiance.

Pressing yourself against the aged stone of the terrace fence, the city seemed so far away as you looked down from so high up, wondering if you could fall quick enough, if he would catch you right on time or make it easy for himself and play the tragic broken hearted hero. The cold breeze kissed your temples as you processed the jarring passage of time.

Kaleem, his wife Alessia and your co-worker Chrissie dropped what they were doing when you broke the news that you’ve gotten engaged, they’ve already gotten it from the breaking news report and online but actually hearing it out of your mouth cemented it, it wasn’t a lookalike sharing your name marrying Homelander! But you! Their hardworking and worn out cook.

Who never once mentioned him before, who never described your baby daddy, who gave no hints… yet to them who thought were your friends–if not confidants, felt betrayed.

They were friends of yours but the fear of Homelander’s and Vought had been so great you never wanted to disclose who’s Helena’s father was to anybody, they had formed very strong opinions over the time they’ve known you but at the sight of half a dozen black suits entering their pizza shop– you probably would have never been able to tell them on your terms, anyways.

You had no choice now but to divulge.

After having been made to lose a day’s work and being informed they would have to agree to some sketchy stuff regarding selling your situation to the public, you owed them an explanation– at least the financial compensation for their cooperation was generous.

Right now you were a stranger.

You told a version of your story, adding to what they already knew, like everybody else their image of Homelander was firmly cemented after 20 years of exposure to the bastard, it was hard to view ‘The Nation’s Favorite Dad’ was the one who threw you on the streets, nobody spoke much while you melted into the booth, your sight so far away, as the light’s buzz drilled into your brain.

“Is the dick at least good?” Chrissie slurped loudly on her coke– I mean go get your bag bitch, just don’t let him make you sign a prenup and when you get divorce take half his shit.”

“Slightly above mid… his mouth tho…” You did smile there.

“Is it little?”

“I wish… shit hurts. Can’t sit straight afterwards... he's just so quick! Thank god his mouth isn't just good at speeches” You chuckle dryly.

Chrissie began spacing her fingers until you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, poor Kaleem sat in his corner pretending to be blind.

You both shared an ugly snorting laugh, cackling from the absurdity of the situation.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to marry for benefits– trust me I seen a lot of ‘90 day fiance’ and my aunt Lucia’s been married to my uncle for 32 years– she met him a month before the wedding and only for the green card.”

“32 years?” That was dreadful.

Alessia was quite relaxed about the whole ordeal, if anything it was the most stimulating thing that had happened in recent years and seeing a six-year- old tutor her teenage son was exhilarating.

“She said he has a big dick and uncle works the night shift… works great for her– pretty sure 2 of their 7 kids are his”

“Is this the aunt Lucia that came and did our light fixtures? I feel sorry for your uncle.” Chrissie said.

“Yes– she's happy, and don’t be… Uncle Frank may have a whole other family in Mexico, but that’s a whole other business.” She said loudly– look you had it rought, and fuck him. I thought killing the dude at that rally was a bit much, but dumping you in the streets– way worse than murder! Look, we got three kids and if this dumbass died on me– I don’t know how I would cope and if some hot rich asshole asked me to marry him… I might ‘cuz college ain't cheap.” You could laugh, watching Kaleem agreeing he would do the same if she died– Homelander is cute and has money. You said it yourself– you don’t have to love him. He’ll meet somebody else and end it, but Helena it’s your main priority here not him, and I mean after everything you’ve been thru you deserve to cruise thru life.``

“I don’t think John is going to let me fuck around…” You groaned, resting your head on your forearm as you sunk deeper– I don’t have to be happy, right?”

“It’s overrated.” Chrissie said– Helena would probably finish college by 12, and that if she takes her time.”

“Thank you guys for encouraging me in my new ‘Sugar Baby’ journey– I always knew I had it in me to be an amazing hoe.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear… to them who just like you had to break their backs to keep the roof over their heads, it was an enviable golden opportunity and in this economy one couldn’t really afford to miss out on such opportunities…

“Just pretend you like him if he’s ever around, I guess.” you mention.

“It’s gonna be hard ‘cuz I like Noir more.” Chrissie says leaning across the table to pat your shoulders.

So here you were admiring the Upper East Side, in the nicest street, in a coveted building that he had every desire in the world to make you ‘Lady of the House’, it was beyond extravagant it even had an elevator… so there was some appeal.

Ashley followed him like a lap dog as he listed a billion much needed remodeling decisions to bring back the home into the office spaces by force, in case he decided to purchase the edifice.

“So you like it? This is the fifth house we’ve seen… you said you wanted a yard and space.”

“Needs more plants… is a great location…” you said softly, still looking down, pretending to not notice Ashley was writing that down too.

“But do you love it?” he pressed rubbing your shoulders– we can still get the penthouse… even if it's only four bedrooms but great open concept! Or the condo right in front of Central park– but that one is only 3 bedrooms which might tamper with our plans… although the one in 63 street, classy and it has a cinema.”

He kissed your forehead, after speaking quickly.

“Do you love it?” You asked, fixing his hair once he got too close to you– this will be your home too.”

“Is pre-war” He whines playfully– is so pretty… the brownstone… the history…” He gives you the most pathetic attempt of ‘puppy eyes’ you’ve ever seen, a smile creeps onto your face without permission which he takes graciously– I can see us here.”

“You’re not hanging a giant american flag anywhere in this house!”

“A small one?” He pouts.

“In your office… and it better be small, John.” You rested your head on his chest– The kitchen… is awful.”

He was touchy, your skin numb to his touch at this point, he wanted to kiss you and hold you until you cherished him, but he wouldn’t force it.

You just had to keep smiling and thwart most of his approaches, but you know if you gave him just enough affection he would be unable to notice the wicked game you were playing– forcing him to move at your dictated pace, to keep him on his toes yearning that you would turn and pamper him, never knowing if his affections were welcomed or not, but knowing you gave yours to him and he welcomed it.

You could see Ryan and Helena growing up happy, and safe.

You and those two children sitting by the fireplace, enjoying hot chocolate and opening Christmas presents.

You would in fact not choose this house just to spite the man, who had fallen in love with his grand vision– not that the chosen house was worse, just one floor shorter, just as massive as the other and still in a great location… so Homelander didn’t complain too much… just a little.

The boxes increased but there was still so much to fill up, even with his stuff it wasn’t enough to fill the gaps… he would not spare you from the American flags, tragically as it sounds.

At least it was framed and matched the decor of the gallery and dining room. As you unpacked and watched the movers bring the beds while the kids argued about who kept which floor– Helena demanded the fourth floor already making executive decision to turn the empty rooms into labs and offices for her future endeavors, while Ryan wanted to be normal child and stay in the same floor as his sibling, ultimately pushed to the fifth floor after multiple rounds of rock-paper-scissors, and a paternal mediator who said they had to settled it with another round of games which sadly Ryan lost.

After a laborious day, you two just sheepishly laughed as you stared at your bedroom, both leaning against each other as you laughed, staring at the wooden cross dividing the two beds and matching nightstands– all so very circa 50’s catholic chic.

You two just laughed about how absurd this was in execution, a part of you wished to just put the beds together instead of making your great-grandmother proud.

“Y’know we could’ve fit two kings in here…” He said while staring at the space.

“I thought you wanted me close-by.”

“Double’s were the perfect choice.” He replied quickly.

It took weeks before you reached a boiling point with your live-in situation, to see him walk around your home in that stupid suit, his mind longing for the familiarity of his abandoned penthouse was frustrating, he himself didn't expect to miss it either– He felt like a guest that refused to leave instead of your fake fiancee, this wasn’t him staying overnight at your previous domicile levels of awkward, that had been a challenge on its own, even if now you skipped the pillow walls and sleeping on the floor… God knows how many times he picked your unconscious self up from the ground and laid you to bed, while he sat next to you reading a book in the dark– this was an alien living in your house calling himself the owner.

Before you knew it your heart stung as you dragged the two kids to the nearest Target to bulk buy the man some loungewear, both from exasperation and as request from his son who mentioned he didn’t really own much clothes, and what little he did own he didn't feel like washing every 2 days just to chill around the house... and as his future wife you gave yourself automatic permission to buy him clothes… just anything that would get him out of that suit.

Ryan had never been to many stores before, much less a Target, it hurt a tad to see him fascinated by the colorful aisles and the abundance of people…knowing he had grown in a compound, the mother in you just wanted to squeeze him and apologies for it all, but you instead just squeezed the handle bars and let him pick snacks that caught his fancy.

It was hilarious that you would find yourself doing this again– back then buying for him had been difficult, he wore very little but he liked your input, he simply wore what you told him, but after so long you had no idea what he liked anymore– this wasn’t food… this wasn’t easy… so the plainest sets were your best bet.

There was something fresh about this, as you perused the aisles with the kids in tow, thinking of buying him some jeans and clean button ups, Ryan picking up colorful socks while Helena opted to pick him a shirt just to fit in.

You had fun, you looked forward to sprousing his wardrobe, watching this scene play out made you feel as if you were normal, until somebody took your photo at the checkout in your least flattering angle.

It took another week before he opened up to being undressed and exposed in cheap pajama pants and white t-shirts, it would take three weeks for him to do so without being told to– plus enough complaints about people trying to photograph them after seeing the Homelander lounge in the terrace, served as added motivation.

You told yourself it wasn’t too bad to cohabitate, as you saw him slowly get more and more comfortable in his new environment, as you watched him become softer with your kids, as you found yourself having pleasant breakfasts, found yourself being welcomed home and conversed over coffee about your day or his day– not even bringing up his concerns about you still choosing to work in Lucci when you could do so much better too often, giving up on teasing you with buying you a restaurant, or upcoming publicity stunts when you weren’t in the mood to listen to the drivel.

Staring down from the roof garden looking at the brownstone buildings around and the pale light, pleased by the subtle fragrance of flowers behind you, he seemed so normal as you watched him from across the coffee table.

He kept sipping on his latte looking miffed before turning around and asked about why Elmo had been staying over for the last 3 days, to which you reminded him he sent his dads to sort some business in Singapore.

“Does he have no other family?” He thought of Singapore– it was quite urgent… they decided to fuck us up.”

“You and them booked them for acting classes plus they have their first suit fittings tomorrow… easier for them to leave Elmo here and have us take care of that– they’re a team-up. They should be close.”

“I know! But why does he have to sleep here? He’s a boy.” He seemed concerned.

“‘Cuz we got the space…?”

“It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Oh you freak.”

He was still stiff around the edges but you could bear with it, as you saw him and Helena bond you knew your daughter was handling him well– your target was Ryan now.

You asked him to help you around the kitchen more, taking your time to teach him without pressure, scolding his father when he acted like it was undignified of him to help around the kitchen and forced him to eat whatever he'd made, making him feel proud when he took charge of dinner even if it was slightly too salty at times and his impenetrable skin resulted in chipped knives…

You helped him make those cute films and took him out to the cinema, buying him books on the subject, encouraging him to join art clubs, to try as many extracurriculars he was interested in and to ignore his father as he pushed Ryan to join sport related clubs, when all he wanted was to make dioramas with his new found friends, instead.

Homelander didn’t have any issues with Helena for her selections were sparse, just the chess club, and some science club she was quickly losing interest in… if anything he was being pushy about piano– and god knows how he managed to bring that piano to the fifth floor without breaking anything.

Is not as if she was already taking too much in-between physics, science and math classes… and working casually at Vought, but he didn’t seem to care. Helena assured you she could handle it, telling you to focus on your tasks without worry and you listened.

Ryan liked your support, it helped you get closer as you allowed his friends to enter the house for his little projects, he liked when you twisted his father’s ear to let him be just in case he began to disapprove, he began to trust you.

Helena wasted her afternoons in the office between daycare, superhero training and shadowing her father or Ashley, reading his meeting notes, writing them for him, or as he called it assisting him, learning about the company and the labs from her privileged position– the whispers of curious passerby wondered why Homerlander would keep his daughter so close, it had taken the building by surprise to learn that this little girl had been his child all along even if rumors had spread prior… but the once cute anomaly began to gain a insidious reputation in the underbelly of this company, something that made them more uneasy than just her strange demeanor from before.

“What’s that on your dress?” You noticed a brown stain on the hem of her dress.

“Iodine.” She said while taking her clothes off, Homelander said nothing as he picked after her.

Homelander gave you a stiff smile as he scrunched the clothes into a ball before your kid ran up towards the bathroom, mentioning she’s a tad clumsy with the equipment as he walked past you.

You didn’t need to know that the duet had some quality father-daughter time to the misfortune of some lab rat.

He stared at the chunky bloodstain sliding down the wall.

“I can explain.” She panted, staring at her work as her eyes spun around the room.

“It’s pretty obvious what happened, no?” He said stepping on top of the unidentified– "I'll have somebody come clean it up, darling.”

“You’re not mad?” She asked, genuinely nervous, fidgeting with her fingers as her head throbbed.

“Why did you kill him?” He stared at the smashed patty with curiosity.

“He resisted termination… forcing me to defend myself… he took my assistant.”

Homelander looked at the other corpse and its mangled remains, spilling around her boots.

“Why?” He spoke with a boor.

“Self-defense.”

“You took your time doing it… you could have cut his oxygen supply and killed him in a few minutes, instead you” He kicked a shattered bone– made it agonizing.”

“Tch… if he attacked me I would’ve lost control of the bubble…” She gasped lightly trying to kill the headache inside her– the math… the math makes sense. My formulas make sense. But it's them… these samples aren’t fit, they aren’t meant to be like us. They are worthless!”

She leans towards the wall, smacking her forehead against the wall full force, Homelander jumps on his heel but doesn’t reach her as she mutters incoherent curses under her breath, his hand stop just inches from her.

“This one wasn’t too bad… I thought I cracked it but then I noticed…” Helena was pensive looking at images he wasn’t privy to, as she spoke with a light airy voice as her lungs emptied for her to speak once more— I cull it.”

She squatted picking up a loose tooth from the ground, examining the perfectly structured canine, for the first time Homelander felt uneasy about her.

“Is not often that I feel…”

Homelander raised a curious eyebrow, taking a step closer towards her, Helena tilted her neck to look at him, her sight so detached it didn’t seem possible for a child to make such an expression.

“Excited. The simulations always succeed but the human variant poses an interesting angle I hadn’t previously considered… truly successful adult specimens… V24 almost recreated the perfected serum but with nasty side-effects… programming the serum is obtainable but adult humans continue to reject it or somehow create variants as if the host alters the code live” She flicks the tooth– Is like Frederick left me a puzzle.”

“So are these just pieces” He waved his fingers nonchalantly at the messy remains.

She scoffed standing up and patting her knees clean.

“You know why I play piano?”

He shook his head.

“Because in order to be good at it… you have to foster talent… but no amount of practice can’t beat those blessed with a gift… supposedly. So I have to solve his puzzle because I cannot believe that that coward was blessed more than me.”

“You think Vought has beef with you? So what will you do with all your failures? Murder them?”

“Is it murder to cull a deformed goldfish? No… that’s just mercy.” She stands up fixing her hair– It’s not beef. Is a challenge he left us with.”

His smile is so wide his skin creaks as it stretches.

He picked her up to plant a kiss on her chubby cheek.

“You’re such a messy child.” He kissed her again– you got your pretty dress dirty.”

“Sorry.” She moped– sorry about all of it… you must think I'm a hack.”

“Is okay princess… daddy will just buy you a new one… and a new dress.”

You didn’t question the stains on her dress, god knew what sort of chemicals and stuff she had to play with, and how much of it wasn’t built for the size of her hands.

The more you saw him return to that man you once loved, you felt down the spiral of considering giving him a second chance– Helena was happy, she was smiling, she was playful, your quiet daughter had blossomed under your mutual care, seeing him domesticated, seeing him interact with genuine joy with her had began to melt your heart. It didn’t help that he look so delectable in compression shirts, as he came back with the kids without a sweat on his brow, Ryan just as dry with nothing more than messy hair and then your daughter dropping to the ground half-dead from the walk… what you had stared at mostly had been his ass in those black tights.

“Honey it was only 20 miles.” He sounded a bit frustrated– gotta get her fit otherwise she will get outperformed.” He turned to you sounding a tad aggressive– she’s my daughter she should be able to handle it just like me and Ryan.”

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Most humans can’t even do twenty!”

You picked her up, not caring she was covered in sticky sweat but as you draped your child over your shoulder kissing her head as she whined, you caught an improper glimpse at him, no doubt he caught a couple looks from passersby on his way here– even by this city standards he was wearing too little.

“Go change…” You said with a light blush on your neck– don’t be a dick to her, she wasn’t born a copy of you.”

He pestered Helena for the rest of the evening, giving up once she barricaded herself in her bedroom.

“Spending all her time inside books is not gonna do her any good… she needs exercise.”

“I think you got the kids mixed up, dear.”

He moped in the living room pursing his lips, one sentence away from crossing his arms and whining like a child.

“Look I think it’s great that you want to train her but… she’s not like you. I would love for her to have inherited some of your physical skills– it's just not gonna happen.”

“I know. I don’t know why she’s so different from me… yet she has to get better…” His sight lingered on the roof– You think she’ll move her dresser out the way.”

“She’ll move it when she wants to– and don’t think about getting in there thru her window!” He almost complains but chooses to stay quiet scooting closer to you on the couch– What?”

“You seem mad…”

“You harassed our kid all day and made her upset… but I was mad before it...I made the mistake of googling myself after somebody at work made mention– have you seen the shit that people are saying ‘bout me online ‘cuz of you.”

Homelander shook his head lightly.

“I only google myself.”

“People are saying nasty shit. Hurtful shit… saw my mom getting interviewed… that was nice… she certainly made me feel like shit.”

“Want me to kill her?” Homelander spoke in such a bored tone, his head finding his way on your lap with the smoothness of a cat, unconsciously your hand took to his hair– Or something else?”

You stared at him and considered it, your mom sort of had it coming if she was going to paint herself a saint for her 15 minutes of fame.

“Don’t kill my mom, John. I just don’t want people saying I’m a bad mother because my kid went to a “shit public school” in the projects.” you said annoyed.

“I’ll see if Vought can write you a fluff piece.”

You believed him, choosing to put your anxieties away as he nuzzled into your stomach and let you watch TV without care as long as your hands kept pampering him making little commentary as you watched true crime videos.

Rolling in your bed you turned to see his back on the bed beside you, you signed readying to play dirty, your body awoken to something sickening.

“I know you ain’t asleep, John.”

His ears perked, he turned to see your silhouette in the dark.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered– mmm…so” you signed lightly– can you get your dick up?”

His ears perked up, lifting himself by his elbows as he adjusted to face your darkened silhouette, your cheeks reddened, mildly embarrassed, your mind wandered back to the sight of his clothes, to the tussling of his hair and the glint in his eyes as of late… and of that last sudden night of intimacy.

“Oh. O-okay… might need some stimulation is not like I got a crank down there.” he faked being annoyed by your request.

“I stopped taking the pill…” His piercing eyes illuminated the room for a brief second just to catch a sly smile ‘bout to fade away off your face– so you wanna put the mommy in MILF or not?”

He tripped out of the bed to jump into yours, clawing his way back towards you, as the little voice in his head blared sirens.

Latching on your neck, ripping your clothes open as you tried not to chuckle at his messy desperation to fuck you, you closed your eyes and thought of nothing but the hundred different pleasurable sensations prickling you– it had been so long… your body sensitive, writhing over his hungry touch, wherever his hands and his lips got to taste you felt it twice as strong.

Whatever he was imagining in his head was happening none of it was relevant– this was simply a mutually beneficial exchange. Nothing but lust, it had to be lust because you didn’t see Homelander underneath you, as you rode him, as he let you fucked him just as hard as he wanted to fuck you– you saw the John that he had killed so many years ago... but somehow you didn't hate the sight.

He wanted to devour you, he was needy and pent-up and you took it all graciously, for one night you two used each other equally.

Finding himself delighted and more aroused at the squeals and mewls coming from your delicious lips just as much as you enjoyed the moans and guttural grunts that came from him as he cried against your chest, crying for your kisses and directions, liking the way he craved your scent once again.

You were better than his molasses drenched memories.

Homelander teeth gilded over your neck, the thought of him ripping and gnawing on your flesh lingered as he brought you to an orgasm.

To be so close to death as you touched heaven… you heaved, melting into the mattress letting him lumber atop of you, too delighted with the end result to complain… looking down to find him kissing your chest, whispering sweet grunts as your hand pampered his hair, you tried not to smile at that satiated goofy expression on his face, at the flickering light illuminating your skin as he purred around your touch.

He was so easy to win over… it scared you.

My Taglist-- @demodemo909 @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

#personal #my fic tag #Homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #sorry for all the delays am a mess #american royalty #homelander x f!reader

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arealphrooblem · 10 months

Text

Surrender Prompt Fills #3

Was about to pump this out before surgery. Wish me luck y'all! As always, these fills were inspired by the amazing surrender prompts by @whither-wander-whump

Part two here

- a character who steps forward and holds out their hands to be restrained almost gleefully. Bantering and trading taunts with their captor, because they know that every moment they spend here is another moment their team/friend/lover has to get away.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

The antagonist stared down at the hero’s proffered hands like it could be a bomb

The hero grinned, pouncing on this opportunity like a cat with a laser pointer. “Are you calling me easy?”

“Are you — once again — twisting everything I say into a pathetic double entendre?” The sheer exasperation so early on in their banter made the hero’s smile curl into a smirk.

“You ask that as if you don’t set me up for that exact response.”

The antagonist gave them a flat stare. “I don’t.”

“Not consciously at least,” the hero added, fondness leaking through their tone.

They should feel anything but fond right now, staring down the barrel of a painful captivity in hopes that their teammates could get away. They were minnows compared to the white whale the hero had become to the antagonist. Years of teasing, cat and mouse games, dancing out of the antagonist’s clutches at the last moment — all down the drain. The game was over and the hero lost.

And yet anticipation buzzed electric under their skin at what the antagonist would finally do now they had the hero in their hands. So many years of pent up threats and sly hints at the strange attraction stretched taut between them spelled a kind of risk/reward feedback the hero couldn’t help but look forward to.

“Well?” they prompted, wigging their wrists. “Do I have to put the cuffs on myself?”

The antagonist did nothing but stare, as if their very gaze could take the hero apart piece by piece and see everything inside. The hero tried their best to look as guileless as possible in return.

“Tell me the catch and I’ll consider it.”

The hero blinked. “There is no catch. You want me. You can have me.”

“What’s the price then?”

The hero debated on another oblivious answer, but the way the antagonist’s eyes narrowed spelled the end of their patience. The game was over.

“You get me,” they said softly, “and only me. No one else.”

Understanding bloomed in the antagonist’s gaze. “I see. They’re already gone, then?”

“I sure hope so. I wouldn’t want to deliver myself to your tender mercies for nothing.”

Something flickered in the antagonist’s eyes. A sharper edge. A hunger. Without warning the antagonist shoved them roughly against the side of the car, cuffs clicking with tight finality over the hero’s wrists.

“What I am going to do to you,” the antagonist breathed, their lips just a scant few inches away, “is neither tender nor a mercy.”

Something bright sparked sharply in the hero’s chest. Whether it was fear or desire, they couldn’t tell you.

What I am going to do to you

Oh the terrifying and electrifying implications of that statement.

The hero’s gaze darted down to the antagonist’s mouth, drawn like a magnet to iron. They watched a smirk curl the corner of their lips up before the antagonist leaned in close to their ear. Their fingers pressed into the thrumming pulse in the hero’s wrists.

“Perhaps, if you’re good, you may even enjoy some of it. But you would have to be very good, Hero. Are you sure you’re capable of that?”

The hero felt strangely light-headed. Fear and delight danced a tango in their chest, as close together as the hero and the antagonist were right now.

“I guess we’ll find out,” they whispered.

The antagonist pulled back far enough to lock their dark dark gaze onto the hero.

“Yes, we will.”

#hero x villain #surrender prompts #prompt fills #my writing #writeblr

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bluelolblue · 27 days

Text

One Last Time

Summary: After Santino gave his speeches, Vincent decided to piss Santino off even more than he already did. With Santino's emotions mixed and filled with angst from everything what Vincent did to him, he decided to dominate him with John.

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio/John Wick/Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont (threesome)

Note: It's finally done! It was supposed to be done last week but now it's here! This is a second part of the "LA Devotee" but Vincent is the bottom here. Have some dom Santino. John's not gonna just watch ofc :P. And @evren-sadwrn here you go bottom Vincent :3

Snippet

John watched Santino as he successfully gave his speeches and managed to interact with some of his other guests. He kept his distance, staying mostly in the back, in the shadows with some other bodyguards, keeping an eye on Santino.

As for Vincent. Well...

He's there among others, half way paying attention to his ex talking about his achievements.

However, John didn't like the way Vincent acted there, he just looked so careless, only here to show off. He didn't come here to support Santino. He's here just that others see the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont and how he cares enough for a new member of the High Table.

Not to mention the way he looked at Santino. With lust and envy, no admiration.

Careless.

Eventually, after the final speech, John made eye contact with Santino. He gave him a soft supporting smile and a nod to let him know he was listening and watching him.

Little things like this mean a lot to Santino. At least from John. A personality trait that Vincent can only dream of.

John and Vincent are so different. Yet, Santino slept with them both.

While the rest of the guests were talking to each other and having drinks, Santino joined John for a while.

"You did amazing, you know." John praised, looking at him in a sympathizing way, offering him a glass of champagne.

Santino chuckled softly, taking the glass, "Thank you. I know, yes." Santino said, feeling proud of himself. He really should be. He had sex with his bodyguard and ex and after that he gave speeches and interacted with others for half an hour and acted like he just didn't get fucked with two dicks.

High Table is gonna be happy with Santino D'Antonio.

"It wasn't obvious, right?" Santino asked quietly, leaning a bit closer to John and hinting at his own neck with his eyes. John didn't seem to notice anything comment on Santino's appearance. Besides few ladies saying how attractive he looks, no one else noticed anything else about him.

"No. Everyone was focused more on your speech." John said, then looked over at the ladies that commented on Santino. "However, you got ladies attention with looking attractive." He smirked and took a sip of his drink.

Santino huffed a small laugh, blushing a little. "Ah, of course." It's nothing new to him. He even sometimes flirts with them just to give them attention. And to feed his ego.

Read the rest on ao3

Quick note: I hope y'all will like it :3. Thank you all so much for support and for reading my silly fanfics, really means a lot to me! I appreciate it a lot! 💙

#santino d’antonio #santino d'antonio #john wick #marquis vincent de gramont #john wick x santino d'antonio #john wick/santino d'antonio #santino d’antonio x vincent de gramont #i again just added pics of them for the aesthetic LMAOO #im trying to make it prettier 😭#DOM SANTINO MOMENT #Vincent's fucked #literally HEHEUE #my fanfic #my writing #ao3

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sophierequests · 2 years

Note

OKAY SONGFIC EVENT IS CLOSING SOON SO I WILL NOW BE SPAMMING YOUR INBOX <3

🌟 - sports by beach bunny with jesper!!!

i could be lonely with you

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: Lizzzz (@juneberrie, because idk how much you're on your old account anymore), I love that idea!!! And I really adored writing this, even though I think I may have branched out a bit. Ik ik, the song is a bit ambiguous when it comes to happy ending or not, but I can't write too much Jesper angst or I'll cry, so have this. As always, thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope you like it <333 Also, how are y'all liking my new post aesthetic?

Summary: The reader is tired of waiting for Jesper to figure his feelings out, but letting him go isn't an option either.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: alcohol, getting drunk, love, possible reaction, happy endings (yuck)

"You're drinking alone? Without me?" Your reason for choosing to get drunk alone in the first place appeared in front of you all of a sudden. Even though the Crow Club was filled to the brim with gamblers, he still had managed to spot you, and now he was here to make you regret ever leaving the safety of your room. Sometimes you wondered if he did all of this just to purposefully vex you.

"Drinking alone sort of implies not having any company, Jesper.” You murmured, taking another sip from your glass of whiskey, avoiding his gaze as best as you could. But of course, the Saints weren’t merciful enough to grant you some peace and quiet. Without asking, he took the drink from your hands and put it to his lips. The same glass that touched your lips only mere seconds earlier. Well, also the same lips that were on yours only mere hours earlier. Saints.

“I guess we’ll have to change that.” It was then that you noticed the slight slur in his speech. He had already been tipsy before coming here, that was probably the only reason for him to talk to you right now. “Why don’t you come and join me at the card table? I could need a lucky charm.” His tone was distinctly flirtatious, and normally you would have instantly latched on to every syllable, but not now. Not after today.

“Sorry, Jesper. I’m not really in the mood for your games right now.” The double entendre went unnoticed considering he solely seemed to care about the missed opportunity of having you sit around while he gambles away the majority of his money. The corners of his mouth were turned downwards as he gave you an almost tortured groan in reaction to your rejection. And as much as you would have liked to accompany him, being close to him - this close to him - was not going to work.

“Not even for half an hour? I always play better when you’re around.” A wink followed his questionable statement, but you were set on not allowing him to lure you in again.

“Nope. Go and ask Wylan. He’d probably be up for it.” Wow, great work. Now you really ruined it for yourself with your bitterness.

“Wylan’s not into all of that. And Wylan also isn’t you.” Saints, how much you wanted to punch him in his perfectly straight teeth just to swipe that awfully smug look off his face.

“Jesper, I just don’t feel like joining you today.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. After that job today I’m in need of a pick-me-up. Please?” Something inside you snapped at that point. Why couldn’t he just take a damn hint and leave you alone for once?

“And I’m in the need to get drunk and not be bothered by someone that doesn’t even know what he wants!” You wanted to take back the words as soon as they left your mouth. His behaviour was incredibly infuriating, however, that didn’t give you permission to lash out at him, nor to blame him for your feelings. You didn’t dwell on that sentiment for too long though, since before he could even begin to give you any type of response, you stood up and made your way towards the exit. He didn’t follow.

This man would eventually be the death of you if you didn’t

You hated the way he made you feel. The way every smile and touch coming from him made your heart spin. The way he always came to be at your side whenever you needed it. The way he put his arms around you so casually, even when it made your heart double its pace. Every single happy or comforting memory you had of him was terribly tainted by the fact that he just could be clear with his intentions.

The two of you had always been close, that was no secret. He was flirty, touchy and quite possibly one of the worst people to have a crush on. At first, the flirting between you had been completely innocent - as innocent as Jesper’s jokes could be - but over time, there seemed to be some hint of truth behind every cheeky comment or whispered flattery. You saw it in the glint of his eyes or the change of his breathing whenever you would reciprocate his advances.

However, Jesper was also terribly brash and constantly chasing a new high. He didn’t settle, or even show any interest in doing so. Love was a gamble and he was an addict. But just like every other addict, he could never have enough. And you were starting to get tired of waiting for him to figure it out. Because in contrast to him, your feelings were more than clear. You had confessed them to him after a drunken night out, and couldn’t look him straight in the eyes for weeks after that. He didn’t give you a concrete answer after that, only making it his mission to close your tab and bring you back home safely. Much to your surprise, that barely changed the relationship you had. His flirty comments did get a bit more genuine, but you just chalked his behaviour up to being the softest way to let you down. You should have been thankful for him not brutally crushing you with the inevitable rejection, but at the same time, him stringing you along like this only managed to agitate you more. You weren’t sure whether you just wanted him to outright tell you that he didn’t feel the same or whether you wanted to stay in the feeling of blissful ignorance induced by his teasing.

Today’s job had only been the icing on top of the cake.

“Why do we always have to be the decoy? Handsome decoy is not a Jesper talent.” The sharpshooter whined as he fumbled with the buttons of his emerald green vest. It looked a bit too tight for him, yet, he still pulled the look off amazingly well. If you hadn’t known that there were two revolvers tucked away in the holsters of his trousers, you wouldn’t have even begun to question his presence at this merchant’s banquet.

“But you do it so beautifully, Jes.” You grinned, giving him a playful slap to his biceps, which was even more pronounced by the tight white shirt he wore underneath his jacket. If Kaz would be listening in on your conversation, he would probably give both of you a whack with his cane and tell you to focus on the job at hand.

“I’m aware, but doing something beautifully isn’t the same as doing something skillfully.”

“That almost sounds like you’re talking about your attempts at flirting.”

“I beg your pardon? My flirting is as skilled as it can be, thank you very much! And for your information, flirting isn’t easy. Especially if it’s your job.” He explained, an overly serious expression on his face.

“Of course. It must be very hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

“Brutal.”

You laughed, hoping that other people wouldn’t catch on to your ill-fitting jolly mood. Thankfully, you were only there to stand watch and not to do the actual dirty work. You were certain that wouldn’t have ended well for any of you. But from where you were standing, close to one of the three entrances to the banquet hall, no one did necessarily care about you. At least not until now.

Inej’s voice coming up from behind you almost made you pull out the dagger strapped to your leg, but Jesper was quick to seize your upper arm. Something seemingly went wrong, judging by her guarded expression, and you were on the edge to find out what she wanted to tell you.

“I have the intel.” Her breathing was ragged, as she threw unnerved glances behind her now and then. “They have seen me and I’m very very sure that they know who we are. We have to leave, but we can’t take the same route. You take this entrance, and I go out through the west one.”

“Inej, we-”

“No. Go.” With that, she had already disappeared into the crowd of wealthy sellers and merchants that still seemed to be utterly oblivious to what had just happened.

“Saints, Kaz’s attitude has been rubbing off on her,” Jesper grumbled, his hand still on your upper arm, only with a way softer grip. You couldn’t spend too much time appreciating his humour, since as soon as you let your eyes fly over the room again, you spotted three men in uniform crossing the hall. Even though they hadn’t seen you yet, they were definitely making their way towards your entrance.

“I think it’s time to go.” You yanked his hand away from your shoulder and took it in your own, before hurrying out the door. The Stadwatch was fast. Way faster than the two of you. And if they caught sight of your faces, you could only pray.

“What are you doing?” Jesper hissed, as he tried to keep up with your pace. The mansion was a maze and it was best to move through it as quickly as you could.

“Stadwatch. They’re coming towards us.”

“Stadwatch? Are you insane? We can never outrun them!” He slowed down ever so slightly, hanging onto you like an anchor.

“We have to try, Jes. Unless you have the intention of sleeping in a cosy cell in Hellgate tonight.”

“No, we can’t outrun them, Y/N. We have to hide.”

“Hide? Jesper, are you mad? Where do you want to hide?”

“Not where. How.” He retorted, pulling you into a rather secluded corridor as you heard steady footsteps approaching. Your back hit the cold cold wall whilst Jesper towered over you, his chest flushed against yours. His head was cocked slightly to the side in order to have a better view of the Stadwatch approaching. When they seemed to be only a few moments away from seeing you, he turned to look at you.

“Just play along.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning over your face, which was mere inches away from meeting yours. Your hands were on his upper arms in an attempt to put a bit of distance between you, however, that seemed to be the complete opposite of what he had in mind.

“Play along with wh-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips clashing against yours cut you off. Everything happened so quickly that your brain just stopped working. His hands lingered on your waist, and the longer the kiss lasted, the dizzier you felt. You had to force your eyes shut to not get too invested in it. Kissing him was something you had always wanted to do, but now that it was finally happening, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Just play along.

You recalled his words. Up until this second, your hands were still on his arms, looking as if you were close to pushing him away. Without thinking about it, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer into the kiss, which you were now actively returning. As you did, you heard a muffled yelp coming from his mouth.

The steps that had been approaching slowed down as they passed you, but they didn’t stop. You felt your heartbeat speed up, and through the close proximity to Jesper, you could feel his heart doing the same. When the rhythmic clomping of their boots eventually became inaudible, he pulled away, leaning to the side in order to peek out into the adjacent hallway. His hands didn’t let go of your waist as he assessed your chances of getting out unnoticed, and you were thankful for that. You imagined that if he would dare to let go, your knees would probably give in.

“We’re in the clear.” He huffed, turning his face back to you with a devious grin. You saw him sober up a bit as he looked down at your dumbfounded face. Of course this meant nothing to him, you thought. He could continue on with his day just as if nothing happened, while you were left with the situation playing on repeat in your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Just a bit dizzy.” You breathed. He was still close. Too close.

“I have that effect on people.” He didn’t give you much time to recuperate before reaching for your hand again and rushing towards the exit.

The kiss wouldn’t leave your mind, no matter how hard you tried to forget. You could still feel the pressure of his hands on your waist and taste the bitter tang of kvas on his lips. Running away from him didn’t necessarily help the knife twisting in your chest.

Since you couldn’t bear the feeling of loneliness that you got in your room, you resorted to the only retreat you knew - the roof. It was a stupid idea. Inej would have probably called you daft for going out there at night, especially not during fall. The roof was slippery and it wasn’t unlikely for the wind to pick up. But you just needed to be alone. Completely alone.

Without much thought, you sat down on one of the flat platforms, not caring about the way the wet tiles dampened your clothes. You looked down onto the streets of Ketterdam, focussing on all the little details. They weren’t what one would call crowded, however, enough drunkards and gamblers still staggered through the streets, either to find their way home or to find their way back to the next pub. You would give everything to just be in the shows of some poor drunk bastard whose only worry was what drink he should order next.

“You really have lost your mind, didn’t you?” A shaky voice emerged from a hatch that led out to the rooftop. You angled your head to look at the person wobbling over the slick tiles to get closer to you. Jesper wasn’t particularly fond of climbing or doing tasks that would rather be fit for Inej, so he obviously wasn’t very good at it. You would also suggest that he may have a fear of heights, which he vehemently denied.

“Get off the roof before you fall.” You demanded, anxiously watching him as he threatened to lose his balance.

“Will you join me inside if I do?”

“No, but-”

“Then it’s not happening, love.” You scooted a bit to the side, as he reached the scaffold, giving him some space to calm down. The light up here was pretty sparse and only now you could that he had immensely dressed down from what he wore before. Well, it was a dress-down for Jesper Fahey. He had removed his vest and most of the usual accessories, only being left with his white dressing shirt, brown suspended pants and the thick coat that had always been a little bit too baggy on him.

“Jesper,” You started but didn’t continue. What would you say? How could you even begin to apologize for your embarrassing outburst?

“Do you have any idea how cold it is up here?” You hadn’t even noticed the numbness of your fingers or the constant clattering of your teeth. It was a distraction, that was now completely unnecessary. He sat down next to you, eying you as if he was looking at a ghost. And as if he had to convince himself that you were, in fact, alive, his hand moved to touch yours. He flinched as his warm fingers met yours. You really must feel frigid. “Saints, you’re freezing.” Jesper shrugged off his jacket without a second thought, draping it over your shoulders and not giving in to your meek form of protest.

“Jesper, please.” What were you asking for? For him to leave you alone? For him to stop this lovey-dovey caring act? For him to finally reject you? “Please let me be alone for a bit.”

“I should leave you out here alone? To get sick? To fall off the roof? Absolutely not.” He rambled, scanning over your features, worry embedded in his gaze. “If you don’t want me to talk about it, I won’t talk. That’s fine, we can be lonely together. But I’m not letting you be miserable on top of a roof without supervision.” Why was he so damn complicated?

“Talk.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“What?”

“Just…talk about whatever you came here to talk about. Talk, ask, yell, do whatever you want. Just get it over with, please.” Even though he definitely wasn’t pleased with your current sentiments, he gave you a subtle nod.

“I’m sorry if I upset you by asking you to join me earlier. You looked so unhappy, and I thought that it might cheer you up. I didn’t mean to be so stubborn.” Why was he the one to apologize to you now?

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Jes.” You sighed, facing him fully to at least grant him that decorum. The moonlight made him look ethereal. His gray eyes, which were still surrounded by an uneasy frown, basically pierced through you. Only the most prominent of his features were illuminated by the blue-ish light, making him look like some sort of mystical being. The fact that someone looking like him was currently preparing to reject you would make things a bit easier, you hoped. “I was a bit overwhelmed and I didn’t react properly. It’s not your fault.”

“Y/N, what is going on? Did I say something you didn’t like? If you tell me what it was I’ll stop.” Well, depends if kissing me and then just acting like nothing happened counts. “You started avoiding me after the job today and I don’t know what-” Realization dawned on him as he cut himself off. This was the part where you’d get hurt.

“It has nothing to do with you, I-”

“It was the kiss, wasn’t it?” An unfamiliar emotion travelled over his face, as he began to put two and two together. “I promise that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, that was never my intention. It was just a means to an end and I’ll stop the flirting if that is what would make you feel better.”

“That’s the problem.” You whispered, not thinking that he would be able to hear it.

“What do you mean?”

Maybe it was time to rip off that bandaid.

“Maybe the fact that the kiss basically meant nothing to you is my problem. Your flirting isn’t the issue, it’s that you do it without feeling anything whilst doing it. I just need you to tell me that you don’t feel the same and then I can move on. But I can’t keep going like this. It’s driving me insane.”

“Feel the same? What are you saying?” This was not going well, was it? How could he be so oblivious?

“I love you, Jesper, okay? I love you, and it kills me that you continue to act as if we could just go on like normal whilst ignoring that fact.”

“You love me?” He looked shocked. Why the fuck did he look shocked?

“Yes? I already told you months ago?” Was he seriously toying with you while you were close to tears?

“You were drunk, I thought…I thought you didn’t mean it!”

“If everything we said whilst being drunk had been a lie, we would barely know each other.” You commented bitterly, waiting for his reaction.

Jesper smiled. Not an uncomfortable or polite smile, but a real toothy grin. A smile that he would normally have after coming back from a successful heist or after winning a round of Three Man Bramble once in a while. Also a smile he wouldn’t just give anyone.

“So the only reason for you being distant after kissing me was because you thought that I didn’t like you back?”

“Way to rub it in, Jesper.”

“And I thought that you just didn’t want to kiss me.” Saints, how you wanted to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face…

“I didn’t. Not like that. Not when I know that the feelings are one-sided.” You replied groggily. Sometimes you hated how easy it was for him to wind you up. “And you’re really not making things any-”

You felt a tug at the collar of his coat, gently pulling you closer to him. It was almost like a déjà vu - him cutting you off in the middle of a sentence. But this time, it seemed to be completely genuine. Again, his hands moved under his jacket to hold onto your waist, the warmth of his palms giving you a certain fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. With much less hesitation than the last time, you reached for the nape of his neck, only diving deeper into the kiss. His lips felt warm against yours a stark contrast to the harsh wind that previously assaulted you.

Even though you would’ve wanted the kiss to continue forever, at some point it was time for you to break apart. Your eyes were still closed when you pulled away, fearful that all of this would prove to be one of his cruel little games.

“Did you prefer it like that?” He asked, enticing you to slowly peel open your eyes. His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you expectantly.

“Does that mean that…”

“Yes. Since I assume that my constant flirting wasn’t enough to make that clear, I am in love with you, too.” He chuckled, giving you an incredulous look as if it had been more than obvious that he felt that way.

“It’s not exactly that obvious when you flirt with basically everyone.”

“Do you want me to kiss you again? Just to make my point clear, of course.”

“I think I’m in need of some more convincing so that would probably be a good way to bring your point across.”

“How could I deny you?” He smirked, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips before another gust of wind caused him to shiver. “But we’re definitely going inside after. I’m not in the mood to become a walking icicle.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Jesper Fahey: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingmysanity @fall-writes

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #jesper fahey imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows duology #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

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the-era-of-shadow · 4 months

Text

The Day The Moon Died Act II - The Wave of Black

Case 01: The Eternal Highschool Lovers

Chapter 3: The Fight Chaos With Chaos (Is It Truly Possible?)

Written by Ash Rose & Black Shadow

Cover Art by Ash Rose

CW/TW:

Swearing, heavy (fictional) religious themes, hints at religious trauma, implied parental abuse, mild transphobia, non-consentual outing

Summary:

The Black Arms' rally had been a complete and total success, and the group began to grow immensely in the weeks following it. To tell the tale of its spread in full, follow these three separate, and yet connected tales - cases of the Black Arms' effect on PetalBloom, and see for yourself the damage that had been done.

Notes:

HI sorry for the long-ish wait between Chapter 2 and 3! Updates should become more frequent now - y'all know how the month of December gets! Also shout out to my beloved @theshootingraistar for some of the more comedic parts of this chapter - your ideas gave for some great last minute additions

[Act 1]

[Moonlight Interlude I]

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

“On the contrary, Kuel! I already have enough to deal with at the moment as is - and last time I checked, I stopped being your babysitter after I graduated from the middle school wing!” Uni protested as she continued to rush through the streets, even speeding up a bit in the hopes of escaping Kuel’s pursuit of her.

“Who said you were my babysitter? I always took it as a sort of rivalry - two equals on opposite sides of a debate facing off to declare who’s right and who’s wrong~!” Kuel argued quite casually - seeming to completely ignore the fact that Uni didn’t want him around.

“Putting it like that is flawed by nature and thus nonsensical! “Who’s right and who’s wrong” is to be decided by Madam Moonshine and Madam Moonshine alone, and she decided long before our time that order is the only way forward!” Uni argued back, much more seriously than Kuel had.

“So is “order” how you’re moving forward right now, then?” Kuel questioned smugly.

“You- YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT, JACKASS!” Uni lashed out in utter annoyance, racing to find a way to get Kuel off her tail - even if it meant taking a bit of a detour.

“Ooooo~, such spicy language from the likes of you! What would your parents think if they knew you said such things? Or for that matter, Priestess Waning~?” Kuel taunted, both with their words and with her uncanny ability to still keep up with Uni despite all the turns and detours she took in effort to evade him.

“Don’t you dare invoke the name of the High Priestess when you still refuse to abide by her teachings!” Uni fumed, taking such great offense that she actually - finally - stopped her attempts to flee and turned to face Kuel directly. “For the record, by the way - Madam Moonshine and the other gods gave us language with which to communicate with each other. I feel, personally, to avoid certain words that are of her creation because they are “swear words” is an insult to their hard work!” She added, approaching closer towards Kuel.

“Interesting ideology you’ve got there - are you aware that you’ve indirectly said that your family and Priestess Waning have insulted Madam Moonshine by them having kept their tongues clean?” Kuel claimed, continuing to tease Uni despite her being very obviously angered by now.

“I-I… You-!” Uni stammered, unsure of how to respond as her cheeks began to glow from embarrassment.

“Are you also aware that by you having stopped your pursuit of Latté and Mocha, the distance between you and them has lengthened?” Kuel added before Uni could formulate a proper response.

“Shit-!” Uni blurted as such a realization registered in her mind, turning away from Kuel to see if she could catch sight of the crowd of children once more.

“In fact, we’ve been at this for quite a while, haven’t we? I bet those little fuckers are already all filed into the schoolhouse by now! Oh well, there goes your plans - whatever they were.” Kuel noted snidely - Uni could just feel his classic shit-eating grin widening as she spoke.

“Weren’t you just arguing with me over the ethics of swearing??” Uni questioned, clinging to whatever part of their words she felt was easiest to tackle.

“Uni, Uni, Uni… You should definitely know me far better than to assume I’d actually give a single gods-damn fuck about “foul language”.” Kuel revealed without a single care in the world.

“Th-then why were you even arguing about it with me in the first place??” Uni yelled, both furious and entirely confused.

“Well you see, Uni - I like seeing you angry. You’re a very entertaining rival...” Kuel answered smugly, even chuckling slightly afterwards.

“We are NOT rivals!!” Uni protested.

“Also I needed an excuse to distract you.” Kuel added, which caused something within Uni to snap completely.

“Ohohohoho… AHAHAHA- NOW I see what’s going on!” Uni claimed, herself now grinning as she intermittently giggled maniacally. “Just as expected, too! You’re playing assistant to your beloved idols of chaos as always and are keeping me at bay for them!!” She assumed. “So, just what the fuck is it you’re keeping me for, Kuel? Just making sure I don’t pull Latté and Mocha from their dirty little grasps…? Or maybe… Are you somehow feeding them information on where I am so you all can either tear me apart and feast on my holy flesh or try to corrupt me into being like you all??” Uni concluded, beginning to pull at Kuel’s robe.

“Okay first of all, what-??” Kuel tried to respond, only to be interrupted by Uni.

“Do it, then! Boil me, braise me, roast me on a spit with an apple in my mouth! Then you freaks really will face the wrath of Moonshine and her ministry!!” Uni threatened, laughing hysterically afterwards.

“Oh for fucks sake-!” Kuel sighed as he slapped Uni across the face with all the force they could give. “If this is some elaborate joke to get back at me after all this time, congrats. Otherwise, you’re making quite the accusation for someone who’s acting just like those so-called “freaks” right about now. Especially the part about wrath and vengeance or whatever. Though I guess that is also kinda just the norm? Odd, don’t cha think?”

For a few moments, Uni just stood there, holding her head in pain. Eventually though, she did finally face Kuel once again.

“Did… did you just… hit me??” Uni groaned, now much calmer than she had been a minute ago.

“Sure did.” Kuel confirmed nonchalantly.

“... You were trying to incapacitate me so you could-!!” Uni started to shout again, though she was interrupted.

“Oh no you don’t, no more of that.” Kuel said as they held Uni off from trying to grab at her. “Come on, just look into my eyes, alright??” He then demanded, pulling Uni back towards them by the ribbon of her bowtie.

With no other choice, Uni did indeed look into Kuel’s eyes - all four of them.

Each of them had dark blue scleras contrasted by bright orange irises, giving them a sort of sunrise-like appearance - if you squint, and squint Uni sure did. She tried for a good few solid minutes to try to find what it was that Kuel was telling her to look for, or perhaps she was just waiting for something to happen.

But nothing happened.

And that’s when it clicked.

Kuel’s eyes were perfectly normal and lively, unlike that of Latté and all of the others whisked away by the Black Arms.

“Do you see it yet?” Kuel asked.

“You’re… Not working for the Black Arms…?” Uni answered hesitantly, still unsure in her answer.

“Incorrect!” Kuel responded with a grin.

“What?!” Uni reacted.

“I’m not a Black Arms, nor am I working for them!” Kuel clarified, his grin widening.

“D-DON’T JOKE LIKE THAT, ASSHOLE!” Uni pouted in fury as she realized that Kuel had just pranked her. “THIS IS SERIOUS!!!”

“I know, I know, I just couldn’t help myself, ya know?” Kuel admitted, much to Uni’s chagrin.

“Back on topic - why aren’t you working with them, anyway?” Uni asked Kuel.

“Why do you ask? Surely you wouldn’t prefer the alternative, right?” Kuel responded.

“No, of course not! I’m only asking because - well - didn’t you used to practically worship the guys that founded it or whatever?” Uni clarified her question.

“Yeah I… I did. But that was before the schoolhouse incident.” Kuel answered, sounding genuinely sullen.

“... The schoolhouse incident?” Uni echoed in curiosity.

“Surely you remember it too, right?” Kuel assumed.

“Of course, that’s why this school year got a delayed start - the town council had to hire contractors to rebuild the schoolhouse.” Uni replied.

“... Take a walk with me, Uni.” Kuel offered calmly.

“To the schoolhouse, right?” Uni wondered.

“Nah… Headin’ back to base. Since your plan is probably bust by now, we gotta congregate with the others of Mini Mayhem and make a new one.” Kuel explained.

“... To be honest with you, I didn’t really have much of a plan.” Uni finally admitted.

“More the reason then, huh?” Kuel argued, to which Uni nodded in agreement.

Once the two had found themselves back at the Riverbed Town’s plaza, Kuel began to speak again.

“You’re aware that I have an older brother, right?” He asked Uni, slowing his traveling speed down rather significantly.

“Bahn Aru, right?” Uni replied, doing the same.

“Yeah, him.” Kuel confirmed.

“I think I remember seeing him in the senior year section of last year’s Schoolhouse Scrapbook, but I guess it didn’t fully click that you two are related.” Uni recollected, looking around at the still rather empty plaza as she spoke.

“That’s fairly understandable. We really aren’t that much alike, if I’m honest. Aru’s the quiet type, the teacher’s pet, but also kind to everyone he meets - even at his own expense. The type to always stay after class and help the teachers out with errands…” Kuel explained. “But I still love him, ya know? And I know he loves me too…”

“... It’s nice to hear that you have such a kind influence in your life.” Uni responded, feeling genuinely happy for Kuel, despite how much of an annoyance they tend to be for her.

“Agreed… Which is why it pains me that I almost lost that influence in my life…” Kuel revealed, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“... Pardon…?” Uni asked, not knowing what else to say as shock and dread filled her heart.

“Just before the graduation ceremony last year… Aru stayed with his language arts teacher up ‘til the last second helping her prepare the Schoolhouse Scrapbooks for that year. When Sendrir hijacked the ceremony and took to the mic, he and the teacher were traveling the schoolyard, carrying the scrapbooks to the front of the Schoolhouse’s entrance where the ceremony was taking place.” Kuel elaborated.

“So when Sendrir and Widow set off the explosives, Aru and the teacher were close enough to the Schoolhouse to be in the blast radius?” Uni surmised.

“Yeah… He had to be taken to the hospital for a few weeks… I feared every day until he came home that he wouldn’t make it… It was then I decided that the Children of the River aren’t all I cracked them up to be, and decided I wanted to be better…” Kuel replied. “By the way… I feel odd asking such a thing, but, who’s Widow?” He then inquired.

“Chanté.” Uni clarified.

“Ah… So he got a name change? Or uhm, I should probably not assume that the pronouns didn’t also change-” Kuel said, quickly stumbling over their words as she felt rather embarrassed by his ironic mistake.

“From what I’ve overheard, I think she identifies with feminine terms now?” Uni relayed.

“Thanks! I’m still rather surprised you’re so casual about the gender stuff.” Kuel remarked.

“We’re not babies our whole lives, are we? Why should we have to be confined to a singular identity?” Uni explained her reasoning.

“But isn’t that striving for more than what Moonshine has given you? Even… Being unhappy with the life she gave you?” Kuel questioned. Uni knew he didn’t believe in the words they were saying… But they still bothered her.

“Uhm… N-no, I don’t think so! Madam Moonshine just happened to make some of us have a differing identity from the body we were given! To go through the hurdles of altering your appearance to align with the identity she gave you is honoring her!” Uni argued rather passionately.

“But wouldn’t it be simpler, kinder even, to just have the person’s body align with their identity from the start?” Kuel wondered, now certainly playing the role of Devil’s Advocate just to screw with Uni.

“I-I-It’s an overcoming of chaos energy! The chaos distorts the body in the womb to change it from its true identity!” Uni exclaimed.

“But didn’t you imply earlier that the difference between body and soul was an intentional choice by Madam Moonshine?” Kuel claimed with the usual grin.

“N-No I didn’t!! I-I… I never said that!!” Uni stammered, lying.

“If you say so.” Kuel then retorted, throwing their hands up in the air.

“D-don’t you think we got a bit sidetracked there-?” Uni said, trying to change the subject - but Kuel interrupted her.

“How come you’re so passionate about this bit of your ideology, anyway? With the swearing thing you just brushed off your hypocrisies, but here? You’re really trying to justify how your worldview differs from those you admire. I can’t help but wonder why…?” Kuel inquired, either ignorant or uncaring of how uncomfortable they were making Uni.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Kuel.” Uni said bluntly, but Kuel didn’t listen.

“Aww, why not~? We were getting into a really good discussion! One that I have every right to be invested in, given my own identity!” He insisted. “Is it because you’re just an ordinary girl that always was a girl and you don’t wanna hear us who are different from you talk about something so abnormal~?”

“IT’S BECAUSE I’M NOT, AND I’D RATHER PEOPLE NOT KNOW ABOUT IT, YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD!!!” Uni snapped, running away from Kuel as she obscured her tear-covered face from view.

Uni almost never talked about it, hell, she hated even thinking about it, but Uni was indeed declared a boy when she was born. But from the moment she started to crawl, she began to show signs of the true identity lying within her soul. She was a girl, and neither her nor her parents could deny it.

Uni’s parents have made it very clear over the years to her that if Uni had come to this realization later in life - if the circumstances were even slightly different, they would have made her repress such feelings and carried on with life as a boy. But Uni got lucky, she showed the signs early enough and obviously enough that her parents - reluctantly - found it easier just to let Uni embrace her true identity as a girl, pretending that this was just how things always were.

Uni was to tell not a single soul about her birth sex, for fear that the information would reach the Priestess and jeopardize the Bishop family’s relationship with her, and for the most part, Uni did do as she was told.

Except… there was one person she told.

Latté.

A few months into the two’s relationship, the guilt that had begun to weigh on Uni for keeping such a thing a secret from her was just too much for Uni to bear - so against the advice of her parents, she told her. Uni was convinced from the very moment she invited Latté to the date where she would reveal the truth that it was fated to mark the end of their relationship - that Latté would hate her.

But she didn’t.

Latté still loved Uni even after finding out that she was born a boy. “Because no matter what, you’re still you.”, she had explained as her reasoning.

From that day forward, Uni knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Latté, no matter the stakes. She never wanted to have to risk finding someone new, someone who might not be as understanding as Latté was. She never wanted to lose the support Latté gave her.

And as Uni sat all alone, deciding to find shelter within the abandoned Rojo Diner, the thought that she might not get to be with Latté forever like she had hoped truly began to sink in.

She hated that thought, she hated it more than anything.

She hated the thought of being alone.

She hated being alone.

It hurt.

Her head hurt.

So damn bad...

“Uni..? Are you in here…?” She eventually heard Kuel’s voice call out.

“G-Go away…” Uni muttered, despite her loneliness. She truly felt violated by Kuel, the truth of her identity exploited for one of his many tricks.

“I’m really sorry for what I did back there… I… I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying.” Kuel admitted.

“Yeah… I could tell…” Uni remarked bitterly.

“Most of us in Mini Mayhem don’t have identities that align with our bodies either, and we’re all really chill about it… I just… I’m not used to people having to hide such a thing…” Kuel explained. “But that doesn’t make what I said to you okay.” He added, sitting down at the booth adjacent to the one Uni was sitting in.

“... How are you guys so… open about it?” Uni asked.

“Well, having each other as support definitely helps things… I’m willing to extend that out to you if you want. You and Latté. … I promise I won’t be an asshole about your identity anymore.” Kuel answered.

“... I’ll think about it.” Uni mumbled.

“Yes!” Kuel said cheerfully to themself with a fist pump.

“Let’s get going now.” Uni spoke, getting up from her booth.

“Are you sure? Don’t cha wanna rest a bit more? I did put ya under a lot of stress there…” Kuel asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“Unfortunately, at a time like this, we don’t have the luxury of wasting time.” Uni argued. “Let us get to your base so we can figure out how to get Latté and Mocha back.”

“Got it.” Kuel responded, following Uni out of the abandoned diner.

-☆☆☆-

“Yikes… Poor girl, livin’ in a world that hates her guts.” Rouge remarked, grimacing.

“I know how that feels.” Shadow lamented.

“I definitely did too…” Widow said.

“Well yeah, that’s what the whole first part of the story was about, wasn’t it?” Rouge noted.

“According to my notes - yes!” Relic answered.

“Gods, you’re such a fucking dork. A hot as hell dork.” Rouge replied flirtatiously, leaning towards Relic with sultry eyes.

“You just can’t wait for us to go under for our physical assimilations, can you?” Relic teased, also being flirtatious.

“Is it that obvious~?” Rouge playfully scoffed.

“It’s been obvious since at least the beginning of November. I’ve seen the visions the hivemind gives you.” Shadow testified, inserting herself into the conversation.

“I wasn’t asking you, you wanna-be Hot Topic employee.” Rouge retorted, waving Shadow off as she spoke.

“Hmph! As if you’re not wearing the same type of fashion as I am?” Shadow argued with a smirk, eyeing Rouge’s rather punk inspired outfit.

“W-who said anything about fashion??” Rouge argued back, her voice wavering ever so slightly as she started to realize that Shadow was right.

“If it wasn’t fashion you were talking about, then what makes me a “wanna-be Hot Topic employee” then, hmm?” Shadow inquired, knowing her victory in this exchange of bickering was certain.

“I-I… Uhm… Ugh! You’re the salt of the aerth!” Rouge pouted in defeat. Widow noticed Harazuki’s ears perk up upon Rouge speaking such a phrase, but paid it no mind.

“I beg your pardon?” Shadow asked teasingly.

“Scum of the aerth! Something like that!” Rouge hastily replied, crossing her arms dramatically.

“Anyways…” Leanni spoke, diverting attention onto her. “I do hope Uni eventually finds her way into our graces… It would be a shame for her life to be forever miserable…”

“Well now, you all will just have to keep listening to me to find out if that happened or not, won’t you~?” Widow responded, winking.

“True, true.” Leanni agreed.

-☆☆☆-

“So where even is this base of yours in the first place?” Uni asked after she and Kuel had been traveling for a couple of minutes. “You never striked me as the kind of individual to be able to reserve a location of your own. Considering that you’re twelve years old and all.” She added.

“Only two years younger than you!” Kuel jokingly retorted.

“That didn’t answer my question, Kuel.” Uni replied, giving a smirk of her very own to him.

“Hm. suppose it didn’t!” Kuel admitted. “The Mini Mayhem HQ is located in none other than… My house!” They then answered, finding the perfect coincidence of timing as she was able to point at said house as he spoke.

“... I really should have expected that.” Uni remarked.

As Kuel and Uni entered the house, Uni noticed the sounds of two people having a conversation with one another. Despite her current objective, she couldn’t help but stay put for a moment so that she could listen in to what was being said.

“Yes, I had read about that in the newspapers last week.” One of them, the voice of a young adult man, said.

“Did you now? I thought your parents were the only one buying the newspapers in the family! Surely they wouldn’t want to subject you to such gruesome material!” The other one, the voice of a middle-aged woman, reacted.

“Well, actually, I’ve taken up a part-time job as a newspaper delivery person recently! My supervisor, Ræa, says that if I stick with it for long enough, he’d be willing to take me under his wing as an apprentice journalist! I’m not fully sure if that’s the road I wanna go down in life - but hey, having an opportunity is never a bad thing, right?” The young man explained. “Anyway, I noticed the story was a frontline article one day while delivering, and gave it a read.”

“See? That part about opportunity? That’s what I’m talking about!” The woman remarked.

“... Pardon me?” The young man asked, seemingly shocked.

“I told you about it all before, haven’t I? How I was denied the role of Co-Priestess thanks to that kiss-ass? Now that she’s out of the picture, maybe Priestess Waning will reevaluate and select me to be at her side!” The woman clarified, the joyful tone of her unsavory words making Uni wince.

“Mrs. Flahj, that is quite unkind of you to say.” The young man stated, sounding aggravated. “You told me last month that you were going to not be so obsessed with the “rivalry” between you and Mrs Chanté that you had created in your head - and here you are celebrating her demise?”

“Well when you put it like that it certainly sounds bad, but-” The woman tried to argue, but the young man interrupted her.

“It’s because it is bad. Your mind is so focused on yourself and your achievements that you do and say these terrible things to people! That’s why I have these chats with you, I want to help you out of that mindset! I saw how your daughter acts when she comes over to play with my younger brother and I wanted to hopefully help her home life improve!” The young man explained.

“Uni! Are you going to accept my offering of membership or not?” Kuel called out, pulling Uni’s attention away from the conversation she had been eavesdropping on.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Got distracted.” Uni muttered, feeling embarrassed as she followed Kuel down into the house’s basement.

But despite her feelings, Uni’s curiosity just couldn’t be helped. So only after a few steps had been advanced through, Uni spoke up again.

“Who were those two I heard talking in the living room?” She asked Kuel.

“Ahhh, so that’s what you were distracted by~? Probably Aru and Mrs. Flahj. Aru told me he’s trying to be a sort of therapist for her since she seems to not be the most… kindest mom around to Rehkloos.” Kuel answered.

“I… see.” Uni replied, still feeling uncomfortable about what Mrs. Flahj had said about the late Mrs. Chanté.

“But let’s not focus on that right now, that’s Aru’s thing, and we have our own thing - Mini Mayhem’s new mission!” Kuel stated, raising their voice for the last part of her sentence as to catch the attention of the other three members of Mini Mayhem awaiting them in the basement - the Headquarters.

“A new mission?” A masculine voice spoke.

“For us?” A feminine voice added.

“I think that’s what I heard!” Another feminine voice confirmed.

“A new mission, to be completed alongside our new member~!” Kuel added theatrically, entering the Headquarters in dramatic motions - as Uni followed behind him with a much more ordinary approach.

“A NEW MEMBER?!” The voices of the three other members yelled excitedly in unison.

“Indeed, indeed, my mischievous friends! Why don’t we give her the introductions~?” Kuel suggested, to which the others nodded in glee, and gathered into what seemed to be some sort of formation - as if gearing up for a performance.

“Oh dear Madam Moonshine, I must ask… What have I gotten myself into…?” Uni thought to herself, already tired out on Kuel’s more… theatrical side.

“I am Katrien of the Cresent, my pronouns they and he - and who are you that our leader has sent, oh my oh me!” The first of the three spoke. He was a lanky masculine person with light pinkish-gray skin, samely colored shoulder length hair with bangs that obscured one half of their face much like Uni’s, and four eyes all with fuchsia sclera and black irises only on the lower pair, wearing a darkly colored tight-fitting long sleeved undershirt, an open short-sleeved lavender robe and a deep purple wrap around their waist.

“I am Kæ’Mirah of Verde, you may refer to me as she - you already look quite chaotic if I may, great opportunity in you is what I see!” The second of the three then spoke. She was a somewhat chubby yet quite tall girl with dark purple skin, dull pink neck length hair that had no bangs at all, four eyes with red sclera - the main two having black irises while the top two seemed iris-less, who wore a pale blue shirt, a navy blue skirt with periwinkle laces at the bottom, a pastel pink scarf, and a jacket of various shades of reddish-pinks that had four sleeves - two sleeves too many for Kæ’Mirah to actually make use of.

“And I am Rehkloos of Flahj, I too am a she - what you see is no facade, for in our presence you are to be!” The third of them spoke. She was an average sized girl with light brown skin with samely colored hair that reached down to her hips. She wore a long dark brown turtleneck undershirt with a light coffee brown short sleeved coat that which held two arms in each sleeve, somewhat giving off the illusion that her four arms were actually two, an off-white wrap around her waist, and most noticeably, an off-white mask with details painted in with pale yellows and greens. Though from far away one might think she had five eyes, Rehkloos actually only had two, their scleras black and irises gray. The other three “eyes” were simply just painted on the mask in pale yellow.

“Together, we are Mini Mayhem, led by yours truly - so now, take my hand, and let us be unruly!” Kuel added, taking Uni by the hand and thrusting her into the center of the Headquarters.

-☆☆☆-

“Perfectly done! Hehe, that introduction really reminds me of the Dark Arms!” Relic exclaimed.

“Gotta agree with ya there. Too bad that Eclipse isn’t here for this.” Rouge remarked.

“Do you two want to be assimilated tomorrow or not? Because if you do, Eclipse is gonna have to be busy!” Harazuki claimed teasingly.

“What happened to you complaining about them overworking themself, eh?” Rouge inquired, equally as teasing.

“I didn’t say they have to overwork themself! They’re just busy! Busy working on preparing things for you two!” Harazuki clarified, puffing up her cheeks in frustration - but Rouge and Relic were already giggling together.

Widow giggled as well, simply returning to telling the story once the three of them were done having their moment.

-☆☆☆-

“Are you guys done now? I already know all of you.” Uni asked, rolling her eyes - even if she was admittedly a bit impressed by how coordinated their introduction was.

“W-We knew that!” Kæ’Mirah stammered.

“It’s just… tradition.” Katrien said.

“It’s quite necessary for your initiation!” Rehkloos added.

“Oh great, you’re still speaking in rhyme.” Uni groaned.

“Wait, we were?” Rehkloos inquired, completely unaware of such rhyming taking place.

“Ah, a mistaken coincidence… We intentionally rhymed during our introduction, but Rehkloos and I’s continuation of it was not intentional by any means.” Katrien clarified.

“Though… “Rehkloos”, huh? I heard Kuel mention that name earlier and figured it to be a new member. But no, it’s just you, Miss Flahj. Any particular reason for the name change?” Uni queried.

“Oh! W-well, I just… felt like it?” Rehkloos answered, seemingly unsure in her words. But before Uni could inquire further, the subject was changed.

“I-I don’t think I ever expected you t-to be here!” Kæ’Mirah remarked, speaking to Uni.

“I don’t think any of us did! So, Uni, why don’t you tell them why you’re here?” Kuel divulged.

“I… I’m on the search for my girlfriend Latté and her sister Mocha. Latté for certain is under the control of those-” Uni began to explain.

“Black Arms?” Rehkloos interrupted.

“.. Yeah, them. Mocha’s status is unknown. I saw them among a crowd of peers entering the Schoolhouse all at once, and was about to chase after them - but Kuel got in my way and insisted I get help from you all, whether I wanted it or not.” Uni continued. “And for the record, I didn’t.”

“Well, uhm, fully willing or not, a Mini Mayhem member is a Mini Mayhem member! … Right?” Kæ’Mirah stated.

“Indeed!” Kuel agreed.

“Fine, I’m a member of Mini Mayhem… But only until this situation is dealt with!” Uni conceded. The others cheered. “But… Why the hell do I even have to be? Kuel, was this just a scheme to get me into your little group, or is there an actual reason you didn’t let me follow Latté and Mocha into the Schoolhouse?” She then questioned.

“You don’t know?!” Kæ’Mirah blurted.

“Don’t know… what?” Uni asked, confused.

“Oh, r-right! Sorry! I’ll clarify!” Kæ’Mirah stuttered, immediately feeling guilty for her minor error, it would seem. “The Black Arms have turned the Schoolhouse into a congregation area! If you had followed them inside, there’s no way you’d make it out without becoming one of them!” She then explained.

“Hmph… Of course they have.” Uni grumbled. “I think I could’ve handled it. I followed Latté and two of their leaders to the other side of town last night and almost had Latté back - if it weren’t for my parents stopping me.”

“I see. But that was only three Black Arms in total-.” Katrien started to speak, but Uni interrupted them.

“Don’t call Latté a Black Arms.” She bellowed, staring daggers into him.

“O-Okay, I won’t, sorry.” Katrien apologized, their usually unshakeable calm exterior being shaken a bit. “That was two Black Arms and one Latté. You described a crowd. Far easier to get lost in. Far easier to get sucked into.” He quickly recuperated and continued on.

“So that leads us to what I was thinking, then.” Kuel interjected. “We go in there together!”

“Sounds like a plan to me, chief!” Rehkloos responded bravely.

“W-Wait, you expect us to go in there?? Wh-what if we all get our minds eaten or whatever happens in there, l-like Katrien said?!” Kæ’Mirah immediately started to panic.

“Minds eaten…? Have you been reading too many stories about the undead, Kæ’Mirah?” Uni remarked sarcastically.

“H-Huh?! N-No!!” Kæ’Mirah argued, most definitely lying.

“Kæ’Mirah has a point in her concerns. She is not without reason to have fear. However… We do stand more of a chance together than alone.” Katrien surmised.

“Ugh… Why can’t I just go at this alone…?” Uni lamented to herself, but then immediately admitted defeat. “Whatever, even if this plan is probably stupid, it’s also probably the best we’ve got, so let’s go rescue my girlfriend and her sister, then.”

“Of course. But first, we need to devise a plan!” Kuel exclaimed.

“Wait, then what the hell were we just doing-?” Uni asked, though her question went unanswered.

“Katrien, grab me my map of the Schoolhouse! Rehkloos, grab the markers! Kæ’Mirah and Uni, help me clear the table! It’s time to bring about some mayhem~!”

#the era of shadow #teos #sonic au #undescribed #black arms #writing tag #the era of shadow: origins #teos origins #mod ash #lycan DNI

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chococookiez · 1 year

Text

I FUCKING MISSED 4/13 I COMPLETELY FORGOR BUT IM POSTING ANYWAY

i was holding off on posting it until i had more content but i did a fantroll :]

some other art/shitposts i did with it (+ my other ocs)

and here's bonus ooc shitty doodles i did for my dying tiktok account

i haven't properly drawn anyone other than aradia and sollux (and eridan partially but i've only done march eridans for some reason) and the one with all of them was . the first time i drew any of them other than eridan please forgive me

words under the cut. i must ramble

so . homestuck huh

how did i spend my first 4/13 you ask? got up at 5am to fuck around with my (slightly drunk) friend on vrc until we got tired, had various revelations, a whole crisis that i do not wish to unpack... im forgetting something

oh yea

dumb of ass moment: i played that one fucking solkat vn literally just for the hell of it

I haven't read the comic yet BECAUSE im planning to binge read the entire fucking thing over the summer with my friends and i am fucking HYPED i have the unofficial collection downloaded on my pc already in preparation and we're planning on doing a massive party once we're done we are going to have a fucking ball with this . technically i've only been properly interested in homestuck since february which i find really funny cause my brain made the switch so fast it gave me fucking whiplash. i've literally never had an interest hit me THIS HARD in my life especially with how little canon content i have to work with currently since im saving it all for the summer (the restraint is so hard y'all have no idea)

highlights of shit i've done to do with homestuck other than art so far:

made 2 extended zodiac pins out of pre-existing pins i had, one for myself and one for my irl friend

said irl friend had to suffer through a 2+ hour long infodump where i just showed them all the main characters i had knowledge about (beta/alpha kids/trolls, ancestors and cherubs), did a hussie and had The Quadrant Ramble™, shittily explained classes and aspects and tried my best to explain The Weird Time Bullshit™ (it was very fun for me . he also said it was fun but i have my doubts)

speaking of quadrants i've made 4 quadrant keychains (erisol spade, cronkri heart, meowrails + kurtuna diamonds) (currently only displaying 3 of them since the meowrails one fucking SELF DESTRUCTED as in the paint fucking peeled itself off and ive been too lazy to remake it rn) and i've been slightly tempted to add a solkat one but i have no clue what quad i'd put them in tbh and that's the only thing stopping me (oh and a meuloz heart . just because)

very very vaguely hinted at this once before but i made a shitty character playlist. not linking it or saying who it is. y'all can just guess

i made... an eridan osu skin. out of one i had already that i liked. and i've been tempted to make a sollux one. did you know im mentally ill (something did spark this: i had a map of eridan's theme that had a skin on it, so decided to make a full one out of it to fuck with my friend who likes him)

im planning on cosplaying A Troll but have no sodding clue which one. my internal options rn are kanaya, vantases (have their outfits/something like them on hand already, plus vantases have easy horns), leijons (associate myself with them a lot (one of my favourite vrc avatars to use rn is a meulin edit even), especially considering im a leo myself), eridan, aradia and feferi (they'd be hilariously fitting for reasons i wish to not explain, especially eridan)

am probably gonna land myself with a pile of homestuck merch, either from birthday gifts or my own stupidity

so yea, just a few words. i couldn't fight the homestuck

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miraculousislifeao3 · 3 months

Text

Sunshine Boys Ch 3

It was after school, the time all the students crowd the parking lot trying to get home as soon as possible. Crowded hallways, sidewalks, streets full of parents and students on their way back home. But for Marinette this wasn't the case, she was going to hang out with Alya after considering the interruption they had at lunch with dumb and dumber.

She rushed to her car getting in before Adrien of Felix could talk to her. (Not like they would because Adrien got detention and Felix was called into the office after a teacher found out about their fight in the hallway.) She was happy to not be dealing with those jerks for at least the rest of the day. But, her streak of back luck wasn't over yet soon after she started the engine someone knocked on her window. Felix smiled brightly at her but she didn't even look at him more than the glance she gave him before she pulled out of the parking lot and left for Alya's.

------------

"He really can't take a hint can he?"

"That's what I thought! It's the first day and I am already so over this school."

"Girl they sound like the worse."

"Trust me, they are."

Alya pulled Marinette into a side hug, grabbing the bucket of popcorn that was in between them. Un pausing "Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse" They knew very well that that show was for younger kids but they were still kids at heart and watched it anyways for funzies.

"You know what's kind of weird"

"What"

"If we never got put in 9th grade together we would be friend today"

"That and if Luka had never come to our school."

"Luka.........How is he? He nevers talks to me these days."

"He hasn't been doing well mentally you know ever since his mother passed away in a crash a few months back."

Marinette froze. How could she not have known this? How has nobody told her anything?

"I never knew that..." "Omg you didn't know?! Luka has been really out of it since he got the news maybe you should talk to him?"

" What would I even say to him, I have never lost a parent nor been in anything close to his situation."

"I don't know but I think you should possibly reconnect with him. You know how he is more comfortable with you than anyone else and you just being there might cheer him up a bit. You know how he is with you."

"Maybe I should ask him to lunch tomorrow he still lives somewhat close by right, I don't want to be a bather if it's too far for him."

"Marinette you know very well that he would travel to the moon and back to talk to you. And yeah he is actually doing some work at a 16 and up club for a gig maybe you could talk to him there I think it's tonight i'm not too sure though."

"It's worth the shot. What's the name of the place?"

"Miraculous wonders I think. The owners Plagg and Tikki are friends with Nino so I have been invited there a few times."

"Miraculous wonders, isn't that a little weird for a clubs name?"

"I don't see what's wrong with it but it's nothing compared to the American club names."

"You're right on that one Al. Oh Luka is playing tonight until......about 3 in the morning dang"

"We should go maybe you could you know loosen up a little"

Alya rubbed her shoulder against Marinette and grinned. Marinette jokingly rolled her eyes and pushed Alya away. The two girls bursted out in fits of giggles until their sides hurt.

"Alya you know I don't drink."

"But you can." Alya brought out the n teasing her.

"You know how badly that went last time with your parents finding me passed out on the bathroom floor. My parents flipped so thank you but no thank you."

----------------------------------

Luka was tuning his guitar backstage while the rest of Kitty Section was setting up the drum set, mics for background vocals, and amps for each of the 2 guitars. Lifting the guitar over his shoulder he walked up on the clubs stage and sat down on one of the stools in front of the mic.

"Bonsoir everyone hope y'all enjoy the show! To start off the night we are playing Last First Kiss. " (This is not a song fic I swear )

Luka: Baby I, I wanna know What you think when you're alone Is it me yeah? Are you thinking of me yeah? We've been friends now for a while I wanna know that when you smile Is it me yeah? Are you thinking of me yeah? Oh, oh. Girl what would you do, would you wanna stay If I were to say I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your Let me be your last first kiss I wanna be first, yeah Wanna be the first to take it all the way like this And if you Only knew I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your last Your last first kiss

Ivan: Baby tell me would it change I'm afraid you'll run away If I tell you what I've wanted to tell you (yeah) Maybe I've just gotta wait Maybe this is a mistake I'm a fool yeah Maybe I'm just a fool yeah (oh, oh)

Luka: Girl what would you do, would you wanna stay If I were to say

All: I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your Let me be your last first kiss I wanna be first, yeah Wanna be the first to take it all the way like this And if you Only knew I wanna be last yeah Baby let me be your last Your last first kiss (your last first kiss) Your last first kiss (your last first kiss)

Luka: Girl what would you do, would you wanna stay If I were to say Your last first kiss [All:] I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your Let me be your last first kiss I wanna be first, yeah Wanna be the first to take it all the way like this And if you Only knew I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your last Your last first kiss I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your last Your last first kiss

Ivan: Ohhh I wanna be last, yeah Baby let me be your last Your last first kiss

The door to the club opened with ringing of a bell catching Luka's attention. Luka froze, it was Marinette he could barely recognize her but it was her. Same blue hair and those eyes that he fell in love with went they first met.

Marinette and Alya went over to the drink counter and orders a sprite (or at least Marinette did Alya not so much) When the bartender gave them their drinks they sat at one of the booths against the wall, (For safety reasons of course they didn't sit with their backs to the crowd of people). Marinette's gaze met his, Luka smiled at her before Ivan started playing the next song and Luka looked away.

Time seemed to slow down not only for Marinette but also for Luka. They hadn't left on good terms when they had broken up and that still took a toll on their friendship but Luka had gotten over the break up and moved on much to Marinette's delite. She liked hanging out with Luka but ever since they broke up things have been strange, but she still feels comfortable around him and he feels the same way about her.

The rest of the set list was about 5 songs one named "Kiwi" and another named "Cherry" . Luka was occasionally glance at Marinette from the stage even meeting her gaze as well at times. It felt nice to see her again, he felt as if he was free in a way when he was with him and or being in the same room as him.

He felt at ease. Marinette however.........was the complete opposite.

#miraculous fanfic #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug

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noisyparadisewinner · 2 years

Text

His students discover your relationship

fandom: Jujustu Kaisen

pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: after 3 months of dating the special grade sorcerer his students finally discover the reason why their teacher seems to go out every single week

word count: 1403

Gojo is known to be a womanizer, it’s not a secret that loves to hook up with gorgeous women. It’s like the whole world knows that, from his companions to his students. So it doesn’t surprise them when they get the news that their teacher is going out with someone new. However, they cannot contain their surprise when Gojo starts going out every single Monday night. It was weird to say the least. Yes, he went out with his characteristic sunglasses quite often. But not weekly. Even Yaga got surprised when, after sending him on an unexpected mission, he heard him mumble something along the lines of “she’ll be mad if I don’t show up on time”. That was the first hint they received. However, it was too soon to confirm that it was something more than a one-time thing.

It wasn’t until Gojo lent his phone to one of his students that the truth became clear.

A movie-night on a Friday was something sacred for the second years, and now also the first years. A terribly rated movie they could laugh about, carbonated drinks and lots of junk food were the tpicals of this home party. That particular day was one of the ones when Gojo would stay around and watch his students have fun. He usually paid for their food if he was there and, just like the other times, it wasn’t an exception. This time as his students were arguing about what type of trash food to order he realized he really needed to go to the bathroom. Being the strongest doesn’t mean you have an infinite capacity bladder. So, in that moment of desperation, he just gave his phone to Inumaki with the app already opened so he could leave the scene as soon as possible.

The others stayed invested in their discussion, except Fushiguro, who decided it was a good idea to sit next to the cursed speech user. No one really paid them any attention until the white haired boy let out a strangely loud gasp that got everyone staring at him. In a rush, he showed the rest the notification pop-up that soon disappeared in front of their noses. However the message was clear.

“I can’t really believe we’ve been dating for three months already”

- Ain’t no way this is true - Kugisaki started saying - Is it really possible that, oh shit!

Just like every single time, they realized that life was not letting things go their way when they spotted their teacher’s white hair entering the room. All of them went three shades paler when they identified the type of situation they may get themselves into if he ever found out they read that message.

- Did you guys order yet? - he asked getting his phone back from Inumaki but raised a brow when he saw the scene in front of him - Have you seen a ghost or something? Y'all look a little pale, go walk outside tomorrow to get some vitamin D.

No one decided to break the silent agreement of not saying anything about the text, but that “no one” didn’t include Itadori for some reason. So he went directly to the question.

- You’ve been dating someone for three months and you didn’t tell us anything? What kind of teacher are you?

Let’s say not a single word was uttered after that, everyone immersed in their personal worlds where diverse questions were coming up.

“Is he really that stupid?”, “What is the best way of commiting murder without getting caught?”, “How the fuck did they find out?”.

The awkward situation was saved by director Yaga, who came with news for the special grade sorcerer. He didn’t even bother asking why Kugisaki was trying to strangle Itadori to death.

- We have this sorcerer who just finished their mission and came back with special intel related to your last trip abroad. I believe you want to hear this in person. - he addressed Gojo and then turned to leave

- Who is this mysterious sorcerer I never knew about? - he jokingly asked his superior

- (L/n) (Y/n)

- But sensei, you do know that sorcerer! It was the one who sent you that message. - shouted Itadori, who was now being strangled by Kugisaki AND Maki

It would be a true miracle if he survived the rage of the two girls. There would be no need for the higher-ups to kill him now.

- Ok I am more than tired and I want to get home as soon as possible, what is taking so long director Yaga? What did you make me come here for? - you angrily entered the room in search for the head of the school but stopped when met with the sight of your boyfriend standing in front of a group of teenagers

There was no new intel, or any messages you had sent that night, or a trip abroad Gojo had gone to. It was just director Yaga, who decided it was a good idea to have you related to the school and the students. After all, you had some useful connections in the jujutsu world, and he wanted to make the better of the situation.

He quietly left the room snickering and hoping for his plan to go smoothly.

- Bad moment? - you awkwardly asked the presents

- Actually, perfect timing - Panda smiled at you - Please take a seat.

You looked over at your boyfriend, who was just as confused as you were.

[...]

- So, - Maki started saying - you’re telling me you managed to get with one of the sweetest people I have gotten the pleasure to know while being a manwhore? What do you see in him? - she turned to you and you shrugged

All the students were sitting around you as you told them stories about how you met and some of your dates. Instead, Gojo was confined to a corner in the room, forbidden of any interaction with you in case he decided to change any parts of the narrative.

- Can I please have my partner back? - he whined as he sat up - Besides, it’s getting late and I am making you train tomorrow early in the morning. So get your toddler asses back to your rooms.

In one swift motion he swiped you out of your place on the couch and left the room with you yelling at him to let you go down while insulting him in the most creative ways a person can find, which made his students burst out laughing. He would never admit it but, he was happy you got along with his students, even if it cost him his image of “cool dude” as liked to say.

Once in his room, as you were changing into his clothes after he convinced you to stay the night, he sat on the edge of his bed as he admired you. He was always worried something would take you away, but this time he decided to be a little more selfish and allow himself to indulge in the warm feeling you provided him.

You sighed as you tackled him to his bed, laying on top of him as he wrapped his arms around you and let you nuzzle your face against his neck. The definition of happiness was right there, laying on top of him.

- I suppose principal Yaga intends to lure me into working for the school, isn’t he? - you asked the man

Gojo thought about it. It meant you would have to leave your home, the last bits of a normal life you had. Even if it meant he had you closer to him, and more secure, he didn’t want you to give up so much.

- I think it would be nice - you interrupted his thoughts

Satoru felt his heart pace quicken, life was giving him exactly what he wanted for once. And he loved that feeling.

- You have no idea how much I love you. - he whispered to the top of your head

- Let me guess, to infinity and beyond? - you giggled which made him laugh out loud after miserably failing to hide his amusement at your response - Because that’s how much I love you, and if you’re not loving me as much I will kick your ass with the help of your students.

- You won’t be able to touch me if I don’t want to

- Nah ah, that won’t save you, after all I am the one in the relationship who actually uses their brain, or have you forgotten?

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines

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theseerasures · 3 years

Note

What are askboxes for if not for shamelessly enabling your friends so please do tell us about Winter's technician vs Weiss's performer

what’s so interesting about Winter and Weiss specifically wrt this trope is that it’s usually the performer who is the Prodigy while the technician is, idk, some hapless second banana who has to work twice as hard just to keep up and has to learn to Let Go and Have Fun or whatever the fuck

it's not that Winter DOESN'T need to learn those things, but the subtext is fairly overt in painting her as the prodigy out of the two of them. she's the oldest, the paragon, the chosen heiress (though in retrospect as the Heir and also Not the Boy she was probably the Unfavorite for both Willow and Jacques). her little tutoring session with Weiss in season 3 reads very much as "why isn't this coming naturally to you it did for me," and every scene she's in during that season paints her as "Weiss, but the Finished Version, who can make it look easy."

Weiss certainly sees (or...saw) her that way. even beyond incredibly obvious hints (mirror help me who am i--Winter!), it's amazing to return to episodes prior to Winter's introduction after we meet her, because only then does it become clear that her fingerprints are all over Weiss. remember i'm not perfect! not yet? or her first combat encounter: head up, shoulders back, right foot forward--not that forward--early Weiss placed so much importance on having the Exact Right Technique, Executing an Attack at the Right Moment, not a hair out of place, and now that we've gotten a fuller sense of Winter's fighting style...

we can see exactly where she got it from. (i made a gif y'all!)

this entire sequence lasts less than four seconds. Ironwood halts her Summon in its tracks, forcing both Winter and Oscar off; Winter pauses her momentum in midair by...idk, the power of anime, fires three icicles from a Glyph, simultaneously pushing off it so she lands before Oscar, even though Oscar DIDN'T stop for a counterattack, and then--without even looking--sends another Glyph to catch Oscar and propel him forward.

some of this bullshit you can definitely just attribute to Rule of Cool, but the point is that this is Winter at Her Best, the Winter that Weiss wanted to be: not a single second or gesture wasted, not a hair out of place. i've already waxed pretentious on why it's so significant that we only see her like this now where in every prior fight she's been ruffled and defensive, but it's relevant here too; Weiss wanted to believe that the Winter we see here is Pure Uncut Winter Schnee, but WE know that's not true.

this has nothing to do with talent. Winter definitely has that in spades, and who knows? maybe she IS more naturally gifted than Weiss, but the point is that she had to discipline it. Winter at her best is Winter honed to a sharp point (the point of a bullet, or the tip of a sword); streamlined and optimized and stripped of all excess, all maddening sloppy touches. she is above all controlled, but her control, as far as we can tell, extends (just like in out of combat situations) to one thing at a time. she is either attacking herself or helping others attack, and she does not give ground. every second is used to press the offense.

so it makes sense why she's dismissive of Weiss and her at least three strikes missed, but it also makes sense why Weiss a) had so much difficulty doing what Winter does and b) has since given up on it to pursue her own style. Weiss was never intended to be anything more than the spare, meant to generate press and money through her artsy performer gig. this was deeply damaging to her self-image, especially when she compared herself to Winter, but it also gave Weiss more room to be the unruly creative, and that's the part she ultimately chooses to nurture.

Weiss Schnee does not move laterally on the battlefield. she spins and pirouettes around in a FUCKING DRESS, she stabs and slashes her sword with relish (though one suspects Winter taught her that part, along with the yelling), and despite months of practice now her Summoning (in contrast to her sister, who once Summoned a Manticore while plummeting to her death) still takes time and a lot of Intense Posing. but she is nonetheless a force to be reckoned with, because she's compensated for those flourishes, and then some. Winter controls the players, with herself as the principle; Weiss controls the entire stage. she creates environmental hazards. she obfuscates. she buffs her friends. she does a twirl before nuking Marrow with four fireballs at once, because she trusts her own ability--and that of her team--to keep the enemy occupied for the duration of the performance.

and at this point performing is a choice. if Weiss had wanted to keep emulating Winter, she could have done it, but at some point she decided not to. at some point she decided to turn what she'd thought was a weakness into a strength. at some point she decided to take the ways her family wounded her, the role they forced her into, and make it her own, and make it willfully, joyfully, into art.

Winter...hasn't allowed herself that luxury. for Winter, her Semblance--and the family, the name, that are inextricable from it--it cannot be anything more than a tool. to think of it as anything else would mean letting it control her, hurt her, but it is too valuable to discard entirely. the only thing she can do is put it to good use.

it's how she thinks about every part of her, in the end.

#alexkablob #weiss schnee #winter schnee #rwby #helen writes meta #winter is...at this point she's staked her entire identity on Distancing Herself from the schnee name #which means that it is IMPOSSIBLE to untie her from the schnee name

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strangerthings4theories · 3 years

Text

The Demogorgon Is Billy’s Dark Reflection

At first glance, the Demogorgon seems irrelevant to the question of whether or not Billy’s coming back. But as I aim to prove, it has everything to do with it.

Stranger Things deals heavily in the theme of reflections and opposites. Characters are designed to mirror each other, embody the opposite of each other, and sometimes both at once. Hell, the Upside Down is presented as a reflection of the real world. Literally.

(Damn. They ain’t subtle.)

By the term “dark reflection,” I mean a relationship like that between the Upside Down and the real world. The two are almost exact copies; the Upside Down has all the same landmarks, down to Will’s fort in the woods. But the Upside Down has been corrupted by the Mind Flayer, its inhabitants turned into unthinking monsters.

It’s like us. But it’s everything we hate about ourselves, everything we’re afraid of becoming.

When we probe relationships between characters, we find that pattern replicated across the board. I don’t have room to explore it in full here. However, Billy and the Demogorgon are one of the most obvious examples.

With the exception of El, the main character of the show, no one else has been compared to the Demogorgon like Billy has.

>>Billy fills the “monster” role in S3 that the Demogorgon filled in S1.

In S1, the Demogorgon stalks the inhabitants of Hawkins, kidnapping and killing them. In S2, we find out Demogorgons do not act alone, but are the puppets of a greater monster: the Mind Flayer.

In S3, the Mind Flayer possesses Billy, turning him into His puppet. Billy then stalks the inhabitants of Hawkins, kidnapping and taking them to his master, which ultimately results in their deaths.

In S3, the Demogorgon wears a human face.

>>Like the Demogorgon, Billy is the puppet of a greater monster... even before he’s possessed.

Max tells us as much in Runaway Max when she’s watching Billy beat the life out of Steve:

I remembered how it had felt the first time I’d watched the Hargroves in action. Neil standing over Billy with the belt in his hand. Neil calling me a stupid little girl for having the guts to try to stop him. Making it so clear that he thought I was small and weak and pointless. And knowing Neil believed that still wasn’t as bad as the way Billy had hated me for trying to help him. He was damaged. Broken, maybe. And even if he’d been coherent enough to argue with, it wouldn’t make a difference. I understood now that Neil was in his head, and that meant he was just as dangerous as his father. (p 218)

This implies not only that Billy is the Demogorgon, but also that Neil is the Mind Flayer. The ramifications of that idea are... oof. Just oof.

Remember the definition of “dark reflection” that I gave you. A dark reflection is something that’s like us, but represents what we hate or fear most about ourselves.

The Demogorgon is Billy’s dark reflection because it represents his fear of losing his humanity to an abuser.

>>Runaway Max draws on the grossest scene in S2 to give us a Billy/Demogorgon parallel.

In S2, Dustin finds a baby Demogorgon and names it D’Artagnan. At first Dart seems harmless. Then he molts and, in a scene I hate to watch, eats Dustin’s cat.

Keep in mind that Dustin’s cat is orange.

In Runaway Max, Billy seems harmless at first. Then, in a flashback to California, we’re told of the day Billy “molts.”

One afternoon, he’s hanging out with Max and his buddies Wayne and Sid on the scrubby hill behind the Hargrove house. He’s bored and pissed at Sid for besting him on a history paper. Pulling out his lighter, he starts playing with it.

We learn there’s a corpse of a cat nearby:

There was a dead cat that had been lying under one of the sweet pea bushes for a while. A mangy orange tom with one white foot. (p 63)

Billy stalks over to it with his lighter. In a “hard, bright” voice, he talks about giving the cat a “Viking funeral.” Then, over Max and Sid’s protests, he drenches the corpse in butane and lights it on fire. The flames race down the hill, and the others have to stomp them out before they spiral out of control.

Max notes Billy’s reaction:

Billy just watched, standing over the burning cat, smiling that small, tight smile he got when something seemed funny to him....

After that, I knew.

Not that Billy was crazy or out of control, exactly - it wasn’t like the cat had been alive. But the fact that he’d done it meant something. (p 67)

Yeah, this scene means something, alright. Symbolically, Billy - a baby Demogorgon - has just eaten a cat. And, like Dustin with Dart, Max realizes he’s a monster in the making.

>>The show’s plot and cinematography choices emphasize the Billy/Demogorgon connection.

1) El first meets them in the Void. They’re both crouching, and literally or symbolically feasting, as she approaches from the right.

2) They stalk after the kids, shoulders hunched. In the Demogorgon’s case, the kids are trapped. In Billy’s case, he thinks he’s trapping the kids, but they turn the tables on him.

3) When the Demogorgon is activated, a crack rips through the tile wall of the lab. When Billy is activated, we see cracked tiles on the wall behind him.

4) El pins them against the wall with her powers. Then she screams in their faces before she deals the “death blow.” In the climactic shot, she’s on the left, they’re on the right. Mike and/or her friends are behind her.

All of that ^ is the equivalent of the Duffers banging pots and pans. “Hey guys! Billy is like the Demogorgon! The Demogorgon is like Billy!” When I first noticed it, it told me to look for other examples of “mirroring.” Do we get any other shots that juxtapose the two?

Turns out we do. Oh my god, we do.

Study this pair of shots very, very carefully.

In the first, the Demogorgon is approaching the Byers' house. It's in the center of the frame, moving straight toward us. We see woods in the background; a lamp post is on the left side.

In the second, Billy is running away from the sauna. He's in the center of the frame, moving directly away from us. We see woods in the background; a lamp post is on the right side.

I’ve already talked about how the Upside Down is the deep sea. However, it is ALSO the woods. In fairytales, the woods are a place of mystery and monsters. Some of the most famous tales happen there, such as Little Red Riding Hood and Hansel and Gretel. (If you want to read more about this topic, here’s a Wikipedia article to get you started. Also a cool article on Medium)

With that in mind, we can describe this pair of shots as follows:

In the first, the Demogorgon is emerging from the Upside Down.

In the second, Billy is going to the Upside Down.

Interesting, right? Ah, but that’s only half of the story.

Study this pair now and tell me what you see.

Yep... they’re related.

In the second shot, Billy is swimming into the ocean. It’s the last glimpse we have of his young, happy self before the Mind Flayer kills him. He’s in the center of the frame, moving directly away from us, just like the first shot.

With that in mind, we could say...

In the first, he’s going to the Upside Down in its ‘woods’ manifestation.

In the second - OUR LAST GLIMPSE OF YOUNG BILLY BEFORE HE DIES - he’s going to the Upside Down in its ‘ocean’ manifestation.

Interesting how we've only seen him leave. Yet we have this iconic image of the Demogorgon, his “dark reflection,” emerging from the Upside Down and coming to us.

I have a spooky vibe, y'all, that we're missing a final shot.

And we're going to see Billy...

coming to us...

from the water.

I have so much more to unpack here, but this post has gone on long enough! In future posts, I’ll lay out more evidence suggesting Billy will return from the water. I’ll also explore the mythological implications. They’re mind-blowing :3

»»————-　✼　————-««

P.S. I mentioned El has a unique relationship to the Demogorgon too. I’ll try to explain that eventually~~

»»————-　✼　————-««

The “Billy Is Alive” Meta Series (So Far)

Billy Is Not a ‘B’ Character In Stranger Things

The First Rule of Analyzing Stranger Things: The Upside Down Is Symbolized By Water

The Lifeguard And The Rip Current: Our First Big Hint That Billy Is Alive

Why Haven’t We Seen Dacre On Set?

Frequently Asked Questions

For updates, follow the hashtag #billy is alive meta

#billy hargrove #the demogorgon #stranger things #billy hargrove is alive #stranger things theory #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things meta #stranger things analysis #billy hargrove meta #billy is alive meta #ohbillyboy #the upside down #el hopper #eleven hopper #dark reflections

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

A Reading: Part 3 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter. Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, threats, manipulation

Word Count: 3257

Y'know how I said I would update this fic and then I never did? Well, come get y'all juice

Still. They were all perfectly still after you explained everything that you'd seen. None of the boys moved, but none of them were looking at you. They were processing your words, with some of them having already asked a multitude of questions as you tried to explain. You'd told them that this path, the path they'd set themselves on, would only lead to death. Their deaths. But that, as you'd seen, it wasn't either of the brothers that fired the first shot. Well, it wasn't their hand on the trigger- stake- whatever. It was two boys you hadn't seen even in your vision. They were with the youngest brother, but the thing that you stressed was that he wasn't the one that staked him. Staked Marko. You didn't even know the kid, but you were trying to make sure he didn't end up on a missing poster.

You'd described the images in as much detail as you could. From the cards, you guessed it would be Paul and then Dwayne next simply from their placement on the death card. David would be last, but, again, you guessed that that battle would be between him and the brunette. From the way he'd held the antlers, the way he'd stared directly at the platinum blonde. A shiver ran down your back, and you reached for your cat. You tugged him close to your chest, and glanced at the four vampires. You'd tried to be as helpful as you could, keeping in mind the disadvantage that you were at. The silence was starting to thicken the air, make the hairs on your arms stand up. Salisbury meowed, as if sensing your discomfort. That little noise broke them out of whatever haze they'd been under, and it was Marko that asked,

"Is it- Is this it? There's nothing we can do?" He asked, and, even if they were vampires, your heart broke for him for a moment. The way he looked at you, how big his eyes were. The rest had lifted their eyes as well. Paul's eyes were eager, pleading. As if you could stop this. Dwaynes were intense, staring into you. As if there were more answers written into the creases of your face that he could see if he just looked a little harder. And David? David's face was unreadable, but his eyes were alight with anger. You gulped, and quickly shook your head.

"No- no. This is just the current path you're on. You make decisions every day, ones that keep you or push you off of a path. You just have to find a way off of it, and onto a better one." You told them. There was hope for them, even if you knew part of you shouldn't have been encouraging that. They were vampires. Killers. You should be happy to find that the creatures plaguing Santa Carla were going to end up dead in a matter of weeks. But, you couldn't bring yourself to be. Not when they were right in front of you and some of them seemed to be fighting tears. Fighting hopelessness.

"We could kill them." Paul suggested with a shrug, and you were quick to send him a glare. But, to your surprise, David shook his head. Perhaps it was just because he knew you'd argue, or maybe it was because David knew that wouldn't take care of all of them. Or some of them might die in the process. David was staring to the side, and you could practically see the way the gears were working. He was trying to figure this out, figure a way out of it. You pet Salisbury absently, feeling awkward in your own home. There wasn't like there was much you could do now-

"Why are you traveling alone anyways?" David asked suddenly, and the question nearly made you flinch. Your eyes flicked to him, and, without meaning to, your thoughts gave him your answer. Witch hunters flashed through your mind. Your most recent encounter giving him a crystal clear image of what you faced. Of your predicament. You were running, trying to escape the hunters that pursued you. He stared, and then he nodded. "Our problems are the same then." He said, and your eyebrows furrowed. You stared at him, wondering what he meant. Where he was taking this. To answer him, you said a small,

"I suppose." It was barely a mumble. You didn't know if you would call them the same. Vampire hunters and witch hunters were both hunters at the end of the day, but you were sure you didn't deserve the prosecution. Them on the other hand…

"This could work. You protect us, we'll protect you." He said, and his voice sounded as if he already decided it. You opened your mouth to protest, or maybe just question, but David interrupted you. "Or, we could just eat you." And you shut your mouth just as quickly as you'd opened it. They watched you, waiting to see what you'd decide, and you finally let out a sigh.

"What do you want me to do?" And David grinned. Some of their requests you could've guessed. Protection spells and wards, and Paul had even asked if you'd bless a few of his jewelry items. You'd replied to that with a simple,

"Won't that burn you though?" And he shrugged and replied,

"Why, are you a priest?" And you did your best not to let him make you smile. You really did. But it still lead to you saying,

"These are gonna take time, especially the spells. I won't- I won't be able to complete them all tonight." You said, especially with how exhausted you were. The sun was coming up soon anyways, and it wasn't like they'd be able to avoid the rays completely in your little caravan. Plus, you weren't sure your nerves would be able to tolerate staying in such close quarters with them for an entire day if they did get stuck with you. Luckily, they could take a hint and they all finally headed towards the door, and Marko called to you with a wave of his fingers,

"Don't go anywhere." He said teasingly, but part of you knew the threat that lied underneath. Paul winked at you and said a quick,

"Check you later, chica." Before Dwayne sent you a pair of finger guns and headed out the door with the rest of them. David was last, and he hung around for a moment. He looked around your little home, at all your trinkets and things. And then his eyes settled on you. You could feel the suggestion in his tone as he said,

"Don't even think about leaving." He told you, and you felt your necklace pang. Deflect any of the mental games he was trying to play. You nearly wanted to glare at him for trying to use his mind control on you, but you bit your tongue. You were so close to getting off scot-free. You wouldn't mess it up with a harsh word. Instead, you just nodded, and you watched as he left the room and you locked the door behind him.

You fell in a heap into your bed, staring at the roof of your caravan. It had been a normal town, just trying to make a buck. Now, you were involved with vampires. Vampires. You ran a hand over your face and groaned. As you tried to get ready and settle into bed, you ran the events over and over in your mind. Perhaps you should've just kept driving, or stopped in the next town over. Anything to have avoided the predicament you were in now. You sighed and tried to fluff your pillow, Salisbury at your side as the sun peeked above the horizon. As you tried to fall asleep, you decided that this seemed to be a never-ending nightmare

You were quickly proven right when a loud knock came at your door. You'd been up for a few hours, but you'd been too shaken to really explore Santa Carla. Or to try to make any money. The night had been slow, with you working on a few spells that you thought could help your reluctantly made allies. The knock had startled you, and you went to the door to peer outside. You left the chain on just in case. Standing there was Paul, a wide grin on his face. You hadn't even realized it'd gotten dark yet.

"Evening, sweet-cheeks. Miss me?" He asked, and you sighed. You undid the chain and pulled the door open another inch. You were surprised to see that it was just him, and a part of you eased. One vampire you could handle. "Now, did you have a dream about me too or was that just me?" When you stared at him and didn't reply, he sighed and shook his head. He pushed himself up from where he'd been leaning and said, "David told me to come check on you. Make sure you were still here." He said, almost sounding upset that you weren't willing to play along. But you were sure that he must've been used to his fair share of rejection by now.

"Well, I am." You told him, standing in the doorway and staring at the blonde. He arched a brow, surprised by your coldness. "Anything else?" You asked, trying to speed this up. The quicker you could finish their spells, the quicker you could leave Santa Carla. Paul sucked his teeth and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nah, not really. You finish my ring?" He asked, keeping his tone cool. Even if you could tell he didn't enjoy how quickly you were trying to get rid of him.

"Yeah, a little while ago." You told him. He glanced at the opening in the door, not so subtly asking. You sighed and pushed the door open. He grinned at the silent invitation, and followed you into the trailer. He closed the door behind him as you went to your bed, picking the piece of jewelry off of your makeshift work table. You'd meant to just turn around and give it to him, but Paul passed you to lay on the bed just next to the slab of wood you were using to place all of your things. He grinned up at you, staring at you from where you stood. You stared back, not looking half as amused as he did. His hair had splayed out behind him, and his mesh shirt had risen a bit. Showing off a sliver of skin. He grinned when he saw your eyes follow the movement of him pulling it down. You quickly looked away and went to sit on the bed on the other side of your table as Paul pushed himself up onto his elbows.

The boys had made you nervous yesterday, but now? You were tired, grumpy, and just wanted to be left alone. But Paul was the least intimidating of the bunch, even if you knew you shouldn't underestimate him, and he was insistent on staying and amusing himself by touching all your things. He reached out to touch the herbs and jars you had on your table, and you lightly shooed away his hand. The gesture only earned a grin from him and he teased you by reaching out again. When you sent him a glare, he responded with,

"You're really cute when you're angry." And you rolled your eyes. You tried not to let it chip at your resolve, but you could feel your cheeks heating up. You handed him his ring, a silver one with an eyeball on it, and you watched as he slipped it on. No burns. He grinned, playing with it and examining it. "So, what will it do?" He asked, and you waved your hand lightly as you spoke, calling a cup of tea towards you.

"It's just got some light protection on it. It'll warn off bad entities and help keep you safe." You said as you paged through your book, taking the cup from the open air and taking a sip. You didn't see how Paul watched the action, and you flipped the page. You were trying to find a spell that could protect all of them, or their space. You'd been consider the idea of warding wherever they slept during the day, but you were hesitant to suggest that. You didn't necessarily want to walk in a vampire den, allies or not.

Paul didn't move to stand, even after he had his ring. He hung around, even if he was just watching you read. He played with his ring, turning it on his finger, and the pair of you chatted here or there. Finally, he said,

"Did you- Did you do the dream thing?" He asked, and you looked up and responded with a confused hum. He looked surprised by your confusion, and quickly looked back down at your ring. "Oh, just- I really did dream about you and we don't usually…" He trailed off, and this time your eyes didn't leave his face. He'd looked away, and you could tell he was trying to figure something out. In fact, you thought he almost looked embarrassed. You tilted your head, the edge of your lips tilting up as you watched him. "Nevermind. How does your floaty thing work?" He asked, and you laughed and nearly choked on your drink from his description.

"My telekinesis?" You clarified, and he nodded. He was smiling, and it lit up his entire face. He was quick to reply,

"Yeah, that." And you found yourself staring for a moment. You knew vampires were supposed to be attractive. Most supernatural creatures were. It was a part of their appeal, like a venus fly trap. They pulled you in with their beauty and their charm, just to snap around you and eat you while you were still alive. But the way Paul's smile lit up his face? How easily he laughed and, while you could blame this on herbal substances, how he just seemed the slightest bit slow? It all made it seem as if he wouldn't hurt a fly. You smiled to yourself and said,

"Uh, what do you mean?" You asked, and Paul was leaning in, nearly making your work table tip over.

"Like, you can move things with your mind, right? So, is there anything you can't move or like- y'know?" He asked, and you swirled the spoon in your tea. You thought about it, and then shook your head.

"I mean, I don't use it all the time. I don't really think there's a limit it's just, like, how concentrated I am. But, I guess, I get tired when I use it too much." You told him. You didn't know why you were telling him these things, but you supposed he was good company. Better than you talking to Salisbury. If you were honest, it was probably the fact that it'd been a long time since you'd talked to anyone. And anyone that was as attractive as the blonde.

"Could you use it on me?" He asked, and you saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. You let out a scoff when he lifted his eyebrows suggestively, and you waved him away.

"In theory, yes." You told him, and he rested his head on his hand then. He gestured to you, as if encouraging you to do it. You gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on. If I knew witches were as uptight as you, I-" And you flicked your wrist. He was pushed back and his wrists were pinned on either side of his head. A surprise noise left his mouth, and you watched as he struggled. You pushed your work table out of the way, moved to sit besides him, and looked down at him. Your face was only a few inches away from his, and you watched the way he tried to pull against the hold. But, the grip was solid and his wrists didn't move an inch. Gently, you grazed your fingertips against his jaw to gather his attention,

"Happy?" You asked, and you watched as his gaze lifted up to you. He was watching you carefully, but, as the grin grew on your face, a smirk grew on his. You watched as a fire in his eyes grew, and the heat of it threatened to burn you.

"Extremely." He said, biting his lip and raking his gaze over you in a way that didn't hide at all what he was thinking. You didn't need to be able to read his mind to tell. You laughed, tugging yourself away from him just when he started to lean up, and you flicked your wrist to let him go. As you sat back, he followed you. One of his hands went down to yours, his cool fingertips reaching to hold your hand. "Is there anything else you can do?" He asked, tilting his face close to yours. Your breath hitched and you leaned back, and you tried to find a way to make your mouth move. To ignore the flirting in his tone. To ignore the way that, if you didn't know what he was, you would've already pulled him in. You tried to remind yourself. Vampire. Not to be trusted. Not to be underestimated. You'd forgotten that Paul could hear you, and the next moment Paul was tsking and saying, "You think too much." Just before he leaned in to close the gap.

***

When Paul approached the boys with a pep in his step and reeking of the witch, David arched a brow at him and asked,

"Well?" And Paul gave him a lazy grin.

"She won't be a threat." Paul said easily, and Dwayne lifted his eyes to give him a glare. Paul lifted his hands up, giving the brunette a look back. "What? I did what I was supposed to. Her telekinesis is strong, but she gets tired if she uses it too much and she didn't do the dreams. There, happy? And," He said. He went to sit on the railing, just next to where Dwayne was standing. He was slipping the ring off of his finger to give himself something to play with as he continued, "I figured she wouldn't be a problem if she actually liked us." He said, and David watched him for a moment. For how dumb the blonde usually played, sometimes he wasn't dumb at all.

He'd sent Paul to scope her out, to figure out how strong she was, and to more so see how she'd react to just one of them. If she'd try to make a break for it or surrender herself to the situation. It seemed she'd picked the latter. And the blonde was right. It would help if she liked them, even if Paul had a specific type of like in mind. Marko landed a soft punch on Paul's arm, and affectionately said,

"You're such a dog, man. We sent you to get information, you ass." But it seemed nothing was going to dim Paul's mood. He shrugged and said,

"I did. I just answered a few of my own questions." He said nonchalantly. Star and Laddie were off somewhere, so it was just the four of them on the boardwalk that evening. They watched the crowd for a moment, before Marko finally asked,

"How far did you get anyways?"

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #the lost boys x reader

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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