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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

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(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”

“Good.”

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.

Tattoos.

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.

He has a point.

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.

Don’t back down.

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“It’s his fault.” You murmur.

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours.

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”

You nod. “Ozone.”

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.

That word again.

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.

Ask for one thing that you want.

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.

You could ask for something that’s not material.

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.

You can want this.

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.

You want this.

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

This isn’t a want.

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.

“Come in.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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traveler-at-heart · 4 months

Text

Across the Natashaverse

Summary: Through a small accident, you end up in another universe. What happens when you find out that your relationship with Natasha is very different here?

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Life is good.

No missions for the week, done with training and fresh off the shower, you walk down the halls of the Compound.

“Someone’s in a good mood” Wanda comments when you join her at the kitchen. “Did Natasha change her mind about the date?”

Your smile falls immediately and her eyes widen.

“Shoot, I’m sorry”

“Nah, it’s fine” you steal a cookie from her plate and shrug your shoulders. “It was two weeks ago. She doesn’t see me that way, I get it”

“I don’t think it’s that” Wanda insists and you smile.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Maximoff” you lean forward and place a kiss on the top of her head. The brunette chuckles, going back to the book she was reading.

As you walk to your room, you try not to think of Natasha. But it’s a small world, and she’s on her way to the gym, America Chavez right behind her.

“I’m on training duty” the redhead explains. “Wanna join us?”

“I have so much paperwork” you lie, because you’re very tired and have been looking forward to a nap. “Kick some butt, America”

“I’ll try” she doesn’t sound convinced at all.

Natasha smiles at you, waiting for your signature wink that always gets her heart racing.

But there’s not even a look back as you go to your room.

She really screwed up this time.

—

You weren’t exactly lying about the paperwork, and you work on it for half an hour to feel like you’re doing something productive with your day.

With a yawn, you stand up from the desk in your room and walk towards the bed. As you’re about to plop down, there’s a shift in the room and you land on your ass, the bed on the other side of the wall.

“What the fuck?” you say, looking around.

The room looks different. It’s the same size, but none of your stuff is there. Same thing with the hallways. It’s the Compound, but at the same time… it’s not. You walk out of the room, this time on spy mode, ready to take down the imminent threat.

“Y/N?” Natasha calls behind you and you rush to her side.

“Nat, hey. There’s something wrong. Stay close” you take her hand, and she stops you with a pull.

“I’ll say”

“Huh?” you turn, only to find her face inches away from yours.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

“My… what?” you look down at your hands, confused. Natasha moves her face closer and you can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh, I see. Are you still angry about the other day? Because I can totally make it up to you, detka” Natasha whispers seductively against your lips, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Nat.. uh… I think…”

“Use your words, pretty girl” she smiles, her hand going up your shirt to caress the skin.

And suddenly, she looks down, frowning.

“Where’s your scar?”

“I don’t have a…”

Natasha turns into a whole different person, placing you in a chokehold and holding both your arms down.

“Who are you? Are you a skrull?”

“I don’t know what that is” you say, gasping for air. “Wait, are they the ones Carol works with?”

“Who is Carol?”

“Captain Marvel”

“You mean Maria Rambeau”

“Maria is Captain Marvel?” you say, finally piecing together what’s happening. When your eyes lock with Natasha’s, you speak at the same time.

“You’re from another world”

“I’m from another world”

Even if she doesn’t let go, her grip on you losens enough for you to breathe. She’s about to ask something else when a little girl walks up and pulls your hand, getting your attention.

“Mama, what are you and Mommy doing?”

—

“Walk me through what happened”

“Nothing happened! I was doing paperwork in my room and then I was here” you say for the tenth time.

“How about before?” Natasha asks, turning right. Her idea was to drive you straight to Wong, as a multiverse travel is more of his specialty.

“I ran into you. I mean, not you. My Natasha. Wait, not my. She’s not mine” you mumble, massaging your temples. “Please tell me there’s ibuprofen in this world”

“Relax” she reaches forward, placing a hand on your thigh and you swear you’ll combust. “I get the idea. Now tell me what happened”

“We just ran into the hallway. Made some small talk. And then I went to my room”

“Just small talk?” Natasha smirks. “Not some kisses? A quickie against the wall? An earth shattering, universe transcending orgasm?”

You try to open the door and jump out of the moving car but it’s locked.

“It’s not… we’re not a thing. Just friends” you say, flustered.

“Really?” Natasha finally turns to you, as she parks outside of the not so secret lair at Bleecker street.

“Wait. It was America Chavez” you remember, facepalming. Of course. “Natasha was training her. Maybe she created a portal by accident”

“And now my wife is in another universe where you’re too chicken to ask me out. Can’t imagine that will go well for her”

“Hey, it’s not like that” you snap, embarrassed. Natasha turns to you, ready to speak back, as usual. Because she’s so smart and she thinks she knows everything. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit fixed, I don’t wanna be here”

Walking past her, you stand before the big doors, that open up without knocking

“Welcome” the man says. “I take it you’re the little glitch in our universe”

“Yes, I am. Can you fix it?”

“No. But America can. She has been at Kamar-Taj for a year now. Her powers are more developed. It should be an interesting test for her”

“Ok, so what are we waiting for?”

“There have been some security concerns lately” Natasha explains, coming closer. “Wong has to notify their council to follow protocol”

“I’ll come find you tomorrow. Remember, the longer you stay here, the bigger the threat for both worlds”

“Yes, fine. See you tomorrow” you say, looking at your feet as you leave the building. Going down the steps, you can hear Natasha calling after you. “I’m walking back to the Compound. It’s the same route. I can wait for Wong there”

“We don’t live in the Compound” Natasha explains, her voice gentle. She waits until you turn back and searches your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. Come with me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe with us”

There’s a pause, and she waits patiently while you look around. But Natasha’s presence is like a magnet, and inevitably, your eyes come back to her beautiful features.

“What’s so funny?” she says when you chuckle.

“You do the same thing. Tilt your head to the side, purse your lips… it’s cute. In every universe”

“Sweet talker. Come on. Let’s go” she offers her hand and you accept it.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to remind yourself this isn’t the Natasha you know. And that you’re not the one she loves.

You’re so caught up in these thoughts you don’t notice when she pulls over.

“Ice cream always cheers you up” she explains, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not that different”

She smiles, holding the door open for you. Well, at least the flavors are the same in this universe.

“I’ll have the peanut butter with chocolate chips”

“You’re allergic” Natasha says.

“I’m not”

“You’re not?” she repeats, while the man behind the counter looks at both of you, confused.

“Nope”

Once that’s settled, you get your ice cream cones and leave the store.

“Why are you staring?” you say, mouth full of ice cream.

“I’m just waiting for the hives and the runny nose”

“I’m not allergic” you insist, showing your arms, skin completely normal.

“Fine” she concedes, shrugging her shoulders. You keep eating in silence, until she turns back. “Wanna tell me why you got so upset?”

“Because. I did ask you… her out. She said no. I wasn’t a chicken; I gave her flowers and put myself out there. But I’m obviously the problem, because in this universe, everything works out to the point of you two getting married and having a daughter”

You take a seat in a nearby bench, feeling defeated. What a cruel thing, to see the life you could have had.

“Maybe she’s not ready. I was terrified when we started dating. Thought I’d screw it up because I knew nothing of love”

That’s what Wanda probably meant earlier. It’s a possibility that crossed your mind as well, but whatever the reason, Natasha had declined the date (looking very apologetic, you might add) and you were going to respect that choice.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want me. And that’s ok. Because no matter what happens, I love my Natasha. And I’ll always want her to be happy”

Silence settles after you say that, but Natasha looks back at you, smiling.

“You’re very noble. It’s nice to see some things are the same across worlds”

“It’s nice to know there’s a version of me that makes a version of her happy”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Let’s get home. Anya is waiting for us”

—

“Home sweet home” Natasha says, opening the door for you. It’s a beautiful townhouse, with lots of space in the backyard. All the walls are covered in pictures, and you can’t help but stare at all the memories that belong to a different version of you.

They seem like a happy family.

“Mommy” Anya says, and it takes a second to remember that she’s talking to you.

“Hey, sweetheart” you don’t hesitate to carry her as she comes running towards you. Natasha is keeping a watchful eye on you. “What is that?”

“That’s my Miffy, silly” she says and you bounce her in your arms, while she shows you her plushie.

Yelena joins you and you can’t help but stare. Her hair is black, short and she has bangs. There are also a couple of piercings in her nose and eyebrows.

“Did you cut your hair? Looks nice” she comments, picking up her stuff and getting ready to go. You simply nod and smile. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow for dinner with Kate, ok?”

Natasha’s sisters kisses everyone goodbye, including you and then bolts out the door.

“Baby, did you bath yet?” Natasha says, approaching Anya. The girl hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t wanna”

“You’re stinky” Natasha accuses, tickling the girl; Anya gives up and goes from your arms to the redhead’s. “Come on, and then I’ll start dinner”

“I can take care of that” you offer and Natasha’s eyes widen. Anya uses Natasha’s hair as a curtain, and thinks you can’t hear what she says.

“I don’t want Mommy to cook”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t cook” Natasha says. Well, that’s just bullshit. In your world, Natasha’s always the first in line to get a good serving of whatever it is you do.

“Go, I got this” you insist when Natasha puts Anya down. The redhead looks back several times, unsure. My God, how bad could the other you be in this world to get this reaction?

Luckily, once they are done with the bath, Anya comes back, pulling her mother and commenting that the smell is incredible.

“Mommy didn’t burn the kitchen!”

“Has that actually happened?” you mumble to Natasha and she nods. “Yikes”

The redhead laughs, and nudges your shoulder with hers.

“This is really good” she admits after trying your chicken pasta bake.

“Thinking about keeping me?”

“Maybe” she jokes. “Or bring you over when I don’t feel like cooking”

Of course, Anya doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. She tells you about her day with aunt Yelena and all you have to do is listen and nod.

“I’ll do the dishes” you offer after you finish.

“Come say goodnight to her”

“Will do”

While you clean, you try not to think about what life will be like tomorrow, when you go back to a world where things are different.

“She fell asleep in the middle of a Clifford story” Natasha comes back after a few minutes. “It’s probably because she ate so much”

“I’ll leave the recipe for you” you promise. “Mind if I crash in the couch?”

“Right” the redhead smiles, and you can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands. You reach forward, taking them in yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t really sleep without… her”

“I can stay on the bedroom floor”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering” you assure her.

By the time you’re done with cleaning the kitchen, there’s an inflatable mattress, pillows and a blanket.

“Let me know if you’re comfortable” Natasha asks, turning off the bedroom lights.

“Or what? You’ll let me sleep cuddled up? It wouldn’t be good for the space and time continuum that I kick my own butt”

“I actually think she’d find it funny” Natasha says, and you let her voice lull you in the dark. “She’s probably teasing your Natasha endlessly, trying to get her to admit some sort of feelings for you”

“She has a death wish” you groan, admittedly forgetting that the Natasha you know is having a less than pleasant time right now.

“What is she like?” Natasha says after a few moments of silence.

“She’s the smartest person in any room. Hates cooking and doing dishes. Always looking out for others, always taking on the most missions. She’s really funny too. Sometimes, Bucky will ask anyone for movie recs and Natasha will give a completely made up title. So, Barnes will go crazy looking around for it”

“Oh, I’m so doing that next time” you both laugh.

“Great ass too” you say after a beat and a pillow is thrown across the room and falls right in your face. “Hey!”

“Go to sleep”

—

Next morning, you figure it’s only fair to cook some breakfast before Wong calls you over.

Which, he does, sooner than expected.

Anya is barely finished with breakfast, when Natasha comes down the stairs and looks at you.

“It’s time”

Feeling nervous, and a bit sad, you nod. Wanda shows up a few minutes later. To your shock, in this world, she’s pregnant.

“Thank you for taking care of her, it really won’t take long” Natasha says as soon as she steps inside.

The brunette eyes you curiously, and you can tell by her magic that she knows this isn’t your world.

“You know I’m always happy to”

At the door, Natasha picks up Anya and kisses her everywhere she can. The girl giggles once her mother places her down.

“Hey, bug” you kneel on the floor. “Be good. Your moms will be back soon, ok?”

“Ok, mommy. See you soon”

“Bye, Anya” you say, letting her hug you. Once you’re out the door, Natasha reaches for your hand, and squeezes lightly.

The ride to Bleeker street is silent. Wong seems pleased when he sees you.

“Follow me, ladies” he asks, opening up a portal to Kamar Taj. You’d only been there once; the size of the place always makes you feel like you’re in another planet.

A much older version of America greets you -she’s probably in her twenties- and takes your hand for a second, closing her eyes.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Wait!” Natasha calls behind you and you turn, eyes wide. To your surprise, the woman hugs you, and you wrap her in your arms as well. When she pulls away, she places a small kiss on your cheek. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. She’s an idiot if she can’t see that”

“Thanks, Nat. Not about the idiot part. Be kind to every version of yourself, yes?”

“Fine” she rolls her eyes, squeezing your hand one last time.

You’re about to step into the portal when you turn to America.

“This won’t send me into the middle of a busy road or like, free falling to my death, right?”

“Most likely not” she promises.

You don’t like the sound of that.

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten…”

“For Agamoto’s sake” Wong sighs behind you, pushing you without warning.

The room is completely upside down and then you land in the middle of the meeting table, the Avengers around you screaming.

“Son of a bitch” Steve says as you roll to the floor, out of air.

“Language” you manage to say. Everyone’s rushing to you. Sam is the first one and he helps you up. They are all talking at the same time, Wanda inspecting the cut on your forehead from falling on the table.

Suddenly, Natasha nudges them aside, wrapping you in her arms.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me” you say against her temple.

“We’ll leave you alone. Go to the medbay, though”

“Yes, Cap”

You’re in no hurry, Natasha safely in your arms.

—

“So, what happened while I was gone?” you casually ask as Natasha cleans the cut.

“I almost killed you… her. Twice”

“Sounds like you had fun”

“Not really. She’s a smartass. Can’t cook a damn thing, so I made her a pb&j sandwich”

“Oh, yeah. She’s allergic” you grimace. “Wait, you said you almost killed her twice. If one was with peanut butter…”

“The first thing she did when she came to this world was slap my ass”

“She does have a death wish” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t answer, turning around to put the first aid kit away.

“Is it true?” Natasha asks. You look at her, confused. “Are we married? With a daughter?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s true. They seem to be happy. It was nice”

“Was she better than me?”

“Natasha” you say, forcing her to face you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re awesome in every universe. But this version of you is the one I know and love. With your love of spy films, the scar in your belly, and your half smirk when you beat everyone at Uno”

“I am really good at Uno” she agrees and you both laugh.

“Damn right you are”

“I missed you. Too much, to the point where I realise I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this. I’m just scared” she says, holding on to your hands. “Will you help me? Be brave for us”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love” you promise, kissing her hand softly. “In this, or any other universe”

#Natasha Romanoff x R #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You

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antidesire · 1 year

Text

your older boyfriend is just soo considerate ♡

disclaimer.. age gap relationship, re6/vendetta leon so 37+, reader is 21+, first part is fluff, other part.. size kink, like a big one, calls reader small/tiny, hint of dacryphilia, he likes taking care of you, it feeds his ego, roughness, spitting, choking, manhandling, this is so self indulgent don’t even talk to me, just jumbled headcanons about size kink w older bf leon

reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open

leon would spend hours upon hours, way into the early morning listening to your worries and woes, how your job was stressing you out, how you are convinced that one professor is failing you on purpose, or how your friends had gone quiet on you suddenly. any little worry he would reassure away alongside a firm kiss on your forehead.

you admired him so very much, if he couldn't see you had the biggest heart eyes for him then he was a fool. every little thing he did, all his silly little habits had your heart bursting at the seams.

he would encourage you over the smallest of things,

oh you learned a neat new hobby? that's great, leon wants to hear every little detail on what it's about and how far you've gotten with it.

you've worked so hard this week? you need a little treat, he's giving you his card for the day.

got out of bed today despite struggling? you're spending the entire night in his arms, you want a massage? head rub? shoulder to cry on? you get it all. you're the most important thing to him.

he'd showed up at your college/university to pick you up early, and it was lunch time so he caught a lot of attention. "leonnn!" you called out ever so sweetly, quickly rushing over to your boyfriend in the parking lot, admiring your cute little outfit you adorned yourself in today, "y'wanna meet some of my friends?"

you had done nothing but gush about this man to all of your friends, and when they finally met him, they understood, they more then understood, some of them were evidently jealous.

you'd never have to lift a finger with him around, he spoiled you rotten.

okay sappy stuff over, i wanna fuck this old man

he's just soo considerate.. ♡

that you don't even realize his presence until he is pressed against your ass, plucking your purposefully placed by him favourite glass down from the top shelf, his other hand swiftly finding place under your shirt, warm fingertips pinching the soft flesh of your hip.

"you're too small, you'll hurt yourself." he'd scold you, lips attaching to your neck, laying fleeting kisses there which got your breath heavy as your hands gripped onto the kitchen counter, feeling him press you further into the appliance.

it was a little humiliating when he’d whisk you into his lap in public, important meetings, fancy dinners, you name it, no matter what, you’re sitting on his lap.

he’d watch you toy with his fingers, fiddle with his rings just to see how small they were against his, would be purposefully pressing you against his hard-on just to watch the way you dig your nails into his palm helplessly.

constantly squishing you against him, towering over you, pinning you to things, against things.

tell him he won’t fit, give him fat tears rolling down your cheek to match and he is talking so sweet to you, “ohh baby, s’okay, i got you sweetheart shh shh, i’ll make it feel so good.”

sometimes even he’d use the excuse that he’s just too big, like there’s no way you’re not getting his fingers fucked into your pussy and ate out before you attempt to take even an inch of him :((

“you’re so tight baby, how many times have i fucked this cute little pussy and you’re still not used to it?” he’d rasp out, dragging out every second of pushing his fat cock into your pussy to set an example.

“needy cunt can’t stop sucking me in, relax sweetheart.” he’d coo in a voice that sounded like pure honey.

the way you could feel the burning stretch every time he pushed his cock in your cunt had your back lurching off of the mattress, he had to push you back down with his hand pressing against your stomach which sent you into a frenzy, seeing the way his fingers sprawled out across your stomach.

bulge kink ♡

when he first saw the outline of him in your fucking tummy it sent him absolutely ballistic, he’d be sweating, dick twitching inside you and saying the crudest nastiest things as his fingers trailed the shape,

“look, look right fucking now-“ he grunted and you’d have to force yourself out of your daze, leaning up on your elbows and seeing what he saw, you’d cum right on the spot, especially when he stuffs himself deeper, he’d be totally pussy whipped, pussy drunk, whatever you wanna call it, he is just crazy for it.

“you feel my that baby? deep inside you? mmh? you make me feel so good, you know that don’t, you angel?” he wouldn’t let up on you unless you gave him a coherent answer.

a lot of bouncing on his knee, pretends not to notice you’re all hot and bothered until you’re eventually rutting against him, begging for his attention with tears in your eyes, sticky underwear, and a puddle of your arousal making his denim even darker.

loves the way you struggle to take his cock down your throat, you always have your hands all over him, throat sore, gagging and spitting to try make it easier- you’re so sloppy and your teeth graze against him a lot but he can’t help but find it endearing, just means he has a lot to teach you.

one day, laying you down to fuck your throat, watching the way his cock slides deeper and deeper, he can see how your throat expands to accommodate for his size.

manhandling you, like a lot, like everywhere, i told you you never have to lift a finger. his strength would make your stomach clench in desperation every time, you’re riding him but he still takes the lead, hips fucking up into you as he pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch so he can toy with your nipples in his mouth.

his entire body engulfing yours as he fucks you into the mattress, arms flexing either side of your head, all you can smell is him, all you can feel is him, everything is about him.

if you ever got too tired from doing such a good job bouncing on his dick he’d let you lay limply against him so he can use you like his own personal cocksleeve ♡

this man fucks you against walls, lifts you up to fuck you, the most uncomfortable positions are just so easy for him- they’re so worth it, he loves nothing more than wrecking your cute little cunt.

always slapping away your hands when you try to initiate anything, thumb playing with your clit before you could even reach down, his hand around your throat before you could even push his hand towards it, fingers stuffed down your throat before your tongue even fully hung out your mouth, spit dripping down your tongue as the two of you made out.

“let me take care of you.”

#leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #re smut #resident evil smut

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.”

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?”

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you.

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!”

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him.

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan.

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures.

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry.

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true.

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock.

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can.

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend.

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day.

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did.

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic.

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least.

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it.

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much.

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants.

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you.

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core.

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle.

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic.

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve.

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction.

you want him. you… want him.

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars.

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time.

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt.

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately.

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other.

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought.

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist.

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him.

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above.

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything.

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily.

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth.

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds.

“you’re so wet.” he hisses.

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.”

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering.

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’”

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks.

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock.

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there.

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died.

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow.

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you.

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him.

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him.

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.”

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again.

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest.

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into.

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers.

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him.

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it.

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly.

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised.

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight.

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you.

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them.

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him.

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?”

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer.

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing.

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out.

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum.

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release.

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs.

“hey,” he whispers.

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face.

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.”

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?”

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.”

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?”

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

#vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut

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joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B Blurbs: Santa

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and Joe decorate the Christmas tree with your little family.

Warnings: Sweet fluff, slight dirty talk, illusions to smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*December 1, 2023* - Before pregnancy is known

It was an off day for Joe, so now that I finally had my husband away from football, It was time to decorate the tree.

We’d spent the morning decorating the outside of the house, and the inside, so now all that was left was the tree.

He ‘engaged’ his ‘football muscles’ and got the Christmas decorations out of the garage, along with the tree.

Tyson and Miles stood so small next to the Christmas tree as they looked up at it in astonishment.

Though it was bare, it was enticing to them.

I forced Joe to put on his Christmas PJs from last year as I did the same. The boys had outgrown theirs, so we will get a new set this year for Christmas Eve.

“Do I look dumb?” - Joe

Since last year, Joe has gained significant muscle, and the shirt was practically wearing him. Though it was clear that he'd need a bigger size this year, he looked so hot.

“You look delicious.” - you ran your hands over his arms

“I feel like my chest is going to bust the shirt open.” - Joe grumbled

“Hopefully.” - you mumbled

“What was that?” - Joe smirked

“Nothing!” - you turned to run away

Before I could even get a foot away, Joe grabbed my arm and pulled me back into him. With a harsh smack on the ass, his lips attached to mine.

“You’re gonna find yourself on the naughty list, Mama.” - Joe grinned

“Gonna stuff my stocking with coal?” - you

“Oh, I’ll stuff your stocking with something.” - Joe

“Joseph Lee!” - you swatted at his chest

Joe’s hands remained on my ass as he gave me a hard squeeze. With a dirty grin on his lips, he leaned forward to kiss me, but the moment was ruined before he could.

“Mama!” - Miles yelled without taking his eyes off of the tree

After wiggling out of his grasp, I heard Joe groan out of annoyance as I walked away.

I flashed him a glare and he followed behind me into the living room.

“What's up, bub?” - you

“We help decorate?” - Tyson

“Of course, you guys can help me and Daddy decorate the tree!” - you

“Wait what-” - Joe

The boys cheered before running into the kitchen where the boxes of ornaments were.

“Baby, I bring the boxes in. That’s my part. I don't decorate.” - Joe

“Now you do.” - you smiled

“y/n…” - Joe

I walked towards him with a pleading look on my face.

“Please, Joey…” - you batted your eyelashes for extra measure

Joe narrowed his eyes at me before defeatedly sighing.

“Fine.” - Joe

“Yay! I love you.” - you

Leaning forward to kiss him, I was met with his finger stopping my lips.

“On one condition.” - Joe

“What?” - you

“I get to change out of these pajamas.” - Joe

“Absolutely not!” - you

“Why?” - Joe smiled

“Because you look sexy as hell.” - you smiled and traced his pecks with your finger

I watched him suck in a breath when I placed my hand on his lower stomach, dangerously close to his crotch.

“Okay, I'll keep ‘em on.” - Joe

“Thank you, my love.” - you kissed his cheek

“You’re really on the naughty list now.” - Joe

“Only Santa can decide that, Joe.” - You

“I think he's gonna pay you a visit later.” - Joe winked

I knew exactly what that meant. As a joke, a couple of years ago, I bought Joe a sexy Santa suit as a gag gift, but he ended up liking it.

Now, every December, it would get pulled out of the garage, and I’d be told I was on the ‘naughty list’.

——

An hour later, the ornaments were all on the tree, and all that was left was the star.

“I put it on?” - Tyson

“No, me!” - Miles

“You both can.” - Joe

I looked at him confused but he instructed me on how we'd get it done.

“You pick Miles up, I'll pick up Tyson. They can each have a hand on the star and put it on.” - Joe

“Good idea, babe!” - you

“Thank you.” - Joe jokingly took a bow

Moments later, we were lifting the boys in the air as they put the star on the tree.

“Good job, boys!” - you smiled as you and Joe put them back down

Joe and I laughed when Tyson and Miles did a celebratory high-five with each other.

“Okay, now it's bedtime.” - you

“No!!” - Tyson and Miles said in sync

“Aye, you guys don't say no to your mama. Let's go.” - Joe

I watched Joe lead the boys to the stairs before he turned back around and walked to me.

His arms wrapped around my waist as he whispered in my ear.

“I’ll be right back.” - Joe

——

Joe kept his promise and was back downstairs in ten short minutes, I was sitting on the couch watching the wood in the fireplace burn.

He had a sense of giddiness in his long strides to the garage.

A few minutes later he walked back into the living room in that Santa suit.

I couldn't help but giggle at his appearance. Flaming red pants with a matching jacket, no shirt on underneath as it was completely unbuttoned. The hat on top of his head and the grin on his face were the icing on the cake.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” - Joe

“I don't know Santa, you tell me.” - you grinned

Joe waltzed up to me, and the angle of him towering over me was so hot.

I ran my hand over his bare lower stomach before he plopped down onto the couch next to me.

“C’mere.” - Joe patted his thick thighs

Immediately doing his bidding and straddling his lap, Joe’s big hands found their places on my hips.

“What do you want for Christmas?” - Joe grinned

“For Santa to give me a nice kiss.” - you

A dirty grin formed on his lips as he leaned forward and pressed his lips onto mine.

If only you two knew about the pair of little eyes that were watching you, that had by now run back to his room.

When Tyson got back to the bedroom he immediately shook his twin brother awake.

“Miles.” - Tyson blabbered

“Hm?” - Miles

“I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause.” - Tyson

————————————————————————-

Authors note: The ending was the OG idea and I just had to find a way to write something to include it. 💀

MERRY CHRISTMAS, to those that celebrate! I hope today is one of the best holidays ever… and this is my gift to you! 🫶

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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1for5 · 17 days

Text

yes im changing

paige bueckers x reader

(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)

synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?

masterlist

chap 4

y/n pov:

okay scratch that. i would have to do all athletes. okay new research:

a comparative research on the academic resilience of students and students part of the basketball team in the university of connecticut.

much better. i can have more focus on the people in my research. and plus, the basketball teams are the most known in uconn, which could make them have different perspectives. but first.. i would have to ask their coach first. i may ask aubrey if she can bring me to their coach, his name is coach geno..?

after their training (and an hour of peyton giggling), i went up to aubrey and told her about my research.

“yeah! i could definitely ask coach geno, he’s in the other room though to get his stuff, but he’ll come back soon” aubrey replied with enthusiasm. “thats great! thanks aubrey. i would also have to ask the men’s basketball coach, but ill check tomorrow since its already late” i mentioned. aubrey and i got to talk a little bit more, aubrey asking me why i was even in their training the first place.

i said that peyton’s crush is in the team, which made aubrey laugh. when we both looked behind to peyton, we see her talking to azzi. smooth ass..

coach geno finally got out of the other room, and aubrey introduced me to him.

“oh coach! this is y/n, and she has a small favor to ask” aubrey says. “hello coach geno! i am a freshman taking psychology, and i wanted to ask if i could have your team to be part of my research” i smiled.

“what’s it about?”

“their resistancy in regards to their school work sir”

“will it hinder their skills?”

“no sir”

“how long will this take?”

“maximum of a month i believe, but it still depends”

“as long as the team says yes and it wont be a distraction, then im all for it. goodluck y/n, and welcome to uconn!” coach geno replied with a small smile. “thank you sir! it means a lot” i smiled back.

i went back to peyton, who was talking to azzi, and introduced me to her. azzi then introduced me to the other players— to nika, kk, paige, and caroline. i guess i still needed a formal greeting even with the event that happened yesterday.

i then proceeded to ask the whole team about my research idea, and they were all willing to help me. just needed to contact the men’s basketball team now.

after small talks, we all headed back to our dorms. i feel better with the team already, they’re all quite playful, just have to ignore that one blonde, paige. we haven’t talked a word to each other, and i won’t mind if we don’t talk at all.

when we arrived to the dorms area, we all bid our goodbyes to some of the members and the others headed to the same dorm building as me. turns out that everyone that has the same dorm as me lives on the same floor as me.. this will be fun. my “floormates” are nika, ashlynn, ice, kk, and paige. azzi along with caroline and the others were at another dorm building.

we all bid our goodnights, and aubrey and i went inside our dorm. we both were too tired, and got unready and head to our beds quick.

“goodnight y/n!”

“goodnight aubs”

the next week

the last days were great. men’s basketball team is on board with my research, and my introduction and rrl is surprisingly done.

today, i will start to interview the women’s basketball team, and i am thinking of doing observations with them as well— like having group study sessions and know their behavior and thoughts.

its now 2pm, two hours before the team’s training, which gives me enough time to interview some people. i text aubrey saying that im near their court, and was asking who i can interview first.

aubrey: paige is free

goddamn it.

oh well, let’s just get this over with. i open the court’s entrance, the team seeing me and greeting me.

“so, who can go first?” i ask the team, i really didn’t want paige, she will just give me negative energy for the rest of the day. she is always so.. negative towards me.

“i dont think we can.. coach wants us to do 25 laps as penalty! but since paige wasn’t there when the team was goofing around.. she’s free” azzi explained. “what did you guys even do that made coach geno be in fumes?” i asked.

“teased coach about paige dating on of his children.. they’re our age though” aubrey steps in. “oh id send you guys to 25 laps as well” i joked. “whatever!” azzi says.

i told paige to come with me the the bleachers, still being nonchalant.

“so where do we begin..” i hummed. i could feel that paige felt awkward

“name?” i started.

“paige bueckers”

“year?”

“im a junior”

she’s 2 years older than me.

“current gpa?”

“3.9”

not bad.

“workloard in school?”

“atleast 5 worksheets and 2 tests per week”

“can you finish them on time?”

“depends”

“what’s your hardest subject?”

“chemistry”

“favorite subject?”

“anatomy”

“okay that’s all for now. we still have more interviews in the future, and a possible group study session with the others. thank you!” i tell paige.

“thanks” paige coldly replies.

after an interview with aubrey, azzi, and the others, i wrapped it up, just in time for them to do their own preps before training. i was looking for a water dispenser as i was thirsty. i passed by the locker room and heard a voice.

“what is she even doing here? can’t she do her studies somewhere else? we don’t need her bro” the voice stated, which i think was pertaining to me.

“paige, just be kind. its a freshman’s research, you know how tough some professors are with the freshmans, they would have to give their best” another voice replied back.

“whatever, let’s just get to practice” paige scoffs. i rolled by eyes and realized that it was my signal to go, i didn’t want them to see me. i quickly got my water and got out of the court, thanking coach geno and the other members who were just sitting on the bleachers.

as i walk, i start to feel discouraged. i just want to do what’s best for me, and a person who doesn’t know me just talks bad about what im doing. i guess i just have to suck it up, i have no time for negativity anyways. just focus on being able to transfer to stanford.

uconn, your star is not-so shining to me.

- zo’s notes: hello, i hope everyone is enjoying reading my fic :)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader

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sampsonstorm-critical · 3 months

Text

So. I DID watch Hazbin Hotel. And oh boy. So I'm going to give my critique on the show.

"antagonists and supporting" Characters- A bit better than Helluva. Studio oversight curbed some stuff. The characters somewhat had their own personalities in their dialogue. Some characters I thought could be cut out. I'm sorry but Sir Pentious is one of them. He's too cartoony even for this universe. He's annoying on the level jar jar binx was in star wars. Same with Mimzy. I think they could've done much better with Adam, but they just made him a dude bro? I did like the Seraphim sisters. Lute was just a bitchy, cynical, anime antagonist. Nifty was a bit aggravating too on the same level as Sir Pentious. I liked Husk as a character. Lucifer being a crushed dreamer fallen angel was actually interesting however his take on his people that he rules? Now if he was actively choosing to punish them himself using hells tools, it would be one thing? But he just has depression??? I guess? After thousands of years? Instead of trying to reconnect with his daughter, he just Mopes??? Like a sad boy??? No. Sorry. You lost me. Cherry Bomb? Meh. She's pretty shallowly written.

Now!

Main Characters -

Charlie- I hate her. I hate how fucking useless she is. She's the main protagonist for fucks sake. Now if she started like this and actually got better as the story went along in season 1, then alright. But she just gets her ass kicked and daddy has to save her skin. Way to take away her independence as a character.

Vaggie- I like Vaggies premise, but I hate the way her arc is executed. And the fact that she lets Lute live??? I'm sorry? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! No way. No how. Someone like her from a military background, or hells backdrop would let someone as callous as Lute live.

Alastor - he's my favorite character but, it's not his show. And it feels like it is. I love Alastor, he's the only entertainment I get from this show for the most part.

Angel - he's a characature. He is a walking stereotype. I know many people like him including the hypersexuality. Angel dust unless written for plot specific purposes only, is a very selfish unredeemable person. I'm sorry. He's being raped, and he still sexually harasses other people, knowing how it makes him feel? Now this would be great if we weren't supposed to feel bad for him right away, because it would show how abused can become abusers even if they don't mean too. And that could've been part of his arc to becoming a better person. But no.

The Vs - I like Vox. He's written to be genuinely manipulative, charismatic, and intimidating. I like Velvet too. I wish we knew anything about her. Valentino is written to be a villain, but some of his more childish moments are a bit of a movie mood killer.

On to the show as a whole.

So the most hated part of HH. Episode 4s infamous sexual assault scene. - I actually think it was very raw. It was done in an artistic taste. And I DEFINITELY think that if it wasn't taken from a SA fetishizer, it would've sat with me better. I understand what they were portraying and as someone who's had friends, gay men from the aids crisis era who have been SA, I see it but it's not done well. The only instance it's done well is when Angel is shown in the studio with Valentino especially when he tells Charlie to leave.

The build up and pay off issue - the music for the most part was good. OUT OF CONTEXT. I. Context it pays off without building up the conflict. It just resolves immediately. And these aren't Saturday morning cartoon conflicts. These are deep seeded emotional traumas between people. They don't resolve within one episode. These types of conflicts should resolve in 3 part episodes to 1 season. Yet again the Helluva problem shows up. Setting up too many character arcs and plotlines that cannot be properly resolved in the time span.

The finally- it was. Hot. Garbage. What the fuck was Charlie wearing to fight???? What the fuck???? Seriously???? And Angel???? In his booty shorts??? And we're supposed to take the extermination seriously??? HA! No. I do like in the episodes leading up to the finally, where Charlie and Emily rise against Heaven. I think they should have kept going with that moment in the song "If hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie". It was very powerful and undermined immediately with "the big reveal!" Yuck. And don't even get me started on how NIFTY is the one who killed ADAM! SERIOUSLY? I think it was actually cool to see Alastor get HIS shit kicked in and see him crack under the pressure for once. I DO NOT like how Charlie's daddy had to come and fight her battles especially seeling as how he could do it the whole fucking time for thousands of years????!

#helluva critical #helluva criticism #helluva critique #helluva rewrite #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #anti spindlehorse #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop

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lloromanic0 · 3 months

Text

Finally finished this hope you like it because I was giggling and kicking my feet writing this.

Professor Tom Kaulitz wants to talk to you after lecture (fem!reader)

“You can read more on these types of speech acts on the article I’m going to send to everyone’s email, other than that you’re free to go. Thank you for your presence.” Announced your linguistics professor.

Finally. You desperately needed to go out for a smoke and maybe eat something, linguistics lectures were always a pain in the ass, your professor’s voice made you feel sleepy and to be honest learning about speech acts wasn’t the most intriguing thing.

As you were getting up you heard your name being called

“Excuse me Y/N if I’m not mistaken. I would like to see you after you’re done with classes, I have some matters I would like to discuss with you.”

Your professor was the one calling your name,his strong eye contact made you feel intimidated and nervous.

“Sure Mister.Kaulitz…”

“Good. 5pm my office on the first floor.” He said smiling at you.

You lighted up your cigarette as you just finished telling one of your colleagues what had just happened.

“You just got called to the office of the hottest professor in this university and you’re complaining?!”

“Not everyone wants to fuck him you know?” You replied, inhaling the smoke of your cigarette once more.

“Well I’m sure he you like to fuck you.”

“What do you mean?” You looked at her with a worried expression.

“You’re oblivious, he literally stares at you the whole lecture. He’s not even trying to hide it, I’ve seen him check you out while you walked to your seat once.”

“What a creep...” You rolled your eyes, you couldn’t lie he was attractive but still,it felt a little weird to think about him in that way.

“Whatever. What even is that he wants to talk to you about?”

“No idea.” You responded while exhaling the smoke from your cigarette.

“Well good luck with that. I’m going to my next class see you later.” She waved at you as she got inside the building.

You threw your cigarette on the floor and stepped on it, heading inside to get an espresso before your next class.

You walked to the amphitheater and sat on the back seats, placing your bag down taking out your laptop in case you needed to take some notes.

As your professor began the lecture your mind kept wondering thinking about professor Kaulitz, did he really stare at you that much? You started to recall some images of that in your head, that one time you went for a smoke and saw him sitting in a balcony in front of the campus he kept looking at you so you decided to challenge him by making eye contact,he just smiled and walk away. You felt naïve remembering that you told your friend that you never noticed him staring at you. The way he kept asking you to answer his annoying questions during lecture so you were forced to pay attention, the times when he called you at the end of class to scold you because you kept leaving in the middle of class and coming back 30 minutes later, that one time you wore a top with a V neckline and he ended class earlier than usual because he kept loosing his reasoning while he was speaking each time he looked in your direction. You really were oblivious to all of this and never gave into his little signs, mainly because you really didn’t see things that away or never really payed attention to the stuff happening around you. Probably why he stoped doing those things recently and being dry and a little rude when you did ask him questions. “What a jerk” you thought to yourself. “He can have me if that’s what he wants but I’ll not make it easy for him.”

The lecture finished so you got up and walked to his office. As you approached the door you suddenly got very nervous for some reason.

Dr. Professor Tom Kaulitz (office 1.111)

After calming down you knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

You opened the door and sat down in front of him.

“You’re late.”

You looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall.

“It’s 5:02 pm.”

“Which means you’re late, young lady.”

“Is that a German thing? Like you can’t stand tardiness at all.”

He laughed at your observation.

“Maybe.”

Silence filled the room for a minute.

“So…why did you want to talk to me Sir?”

He looked at you, gulping hard.

Tom’s pov

Now that she’s here in my office I can’t bring myself to talk to her. I know this is a risky situation, what if she starts go crazy screaming at me telling the whole university that I’m a pervert, I’ve tried to hold myself back for so long but she messes me up I need her for myself.

Narrator’s pov

“Professor?…”

“Oh sorry I got carried away.”

You stay in silence fidgeting with your hands, now that you were in his presence you started to get nervous, his office had minimal lighting and all the windows were closed it felt hot and humid but taking your jacket off at the moment felt inappropriate.

“I wanted to talk to you about your performance in my classes.”

“What do you mean?”

In his class the performance you had during the lecture did not reflect in your final grade so it was odd of him to talk about this.

“You’ve been skipping a lot and you’re missing some assignments.”

“Sir I apologize but I’m passing so it doesn’t really matter to me, I have other classes and responsibilities to take care of.” You could feel that he got a little angry at your answer.

“Miss, unfortunately to actually pass a class attendance is almost mandatory, and if I do say so myself your grades aren’t the best even if you’re passing.”

Who did he think he was talking to you like that,this is university not high school, why the fuck does he care if your grades are bad or not you just wanted to pass.

“And why do you care so much?” You asked starting to get annoyed.

He sighed.

“Look Y/N just come to class, please.”

“And what if I don’t?”

You asked while leaning over,placing your arms on his desk. He hesitated to answer.

“Do you want to see me that bad, Mister Kaulitz?” You questioned in a sultry tone. His heart was racing, he fixed his posture making eye contact with you.

“So bad.” He boldly replied.

“I didn’t know you were like this Sir.”

“I’m not. You just drive me insane, you can’t imagine how pissed I get when I don’t get to see you or when you leave my class and take ages to come back.”

He got up from his chair walking in your direction.

“I want you Y/N. I’ve tried to hold myself back but my body keeps calling for you.”

You got up from your chair, to stand in front of him.

“Why should I let you have me?” You said while poking his chest.

“Because…” he grabbed you by your lower back “I’d say you want me too. Am I wrong Y/N?”

You placed both hands on his chest.

“Hhmm maybe I do.”

“If you didn’t want me I know you would’ve left my office ages ago.”

“Maybe I’m just teasing you.”

“Don’t you think you have teased me enough all these months?”

“I can always play with you a little longer sir.” You replied placing your arms around his neck, his large hands massaging your back as he lowered his face closer to yours, you lean in capturing his lips in a deep wet kiss.

“For a boring professor you do know how to kiss.”

“You know I wasn’t always a “boring” professor.”

You giggle at his answer. He grabbed your hand guiding you to his desk.

“Sit.”

You complied with his request sitting on top of his desk pushing away whatever papers and documents were on the way.

He placed his hand behind your neck as you lean into his touch exposing your neck for him, his teeth graze against your skin and you can feel his hot breath against it.

He sucked lightly on your skin licking the spot he has just marked, you hummed in response.

“May I take this off?” He asked his hands already under your shirt.

“Yes..sir.”

He removed your shirt placing it on his chair, he admired your upper body making you feel a little embarrassed but not letting it show.

“You’re even more beautiful like this Y/N.”

You give him a soft smile as he reaches for your back to unclip your bra, freeing your perked up breasts from it. His hands immediately reach to cup both of them, giving them light squeezes and twisting both your nipples, you let out a high pinched moan at slight pain he inflicted on you.

“Shh keep it down baby, as much as I would love to hear your moans it’s better to keep quiet here.” He whispered giving you a small kiss on your lips.

His mouth was now wrapped around your right nipple sucking lightly on it making you bite your lip so your moans couldn’t escape, his beautiful brow eyes looking up at you as the tip of his tongue licked over your nipple gently and his hand toyed with the other. You rubbed your legs together the wetness between them becoming overwhelming, the boner in his pants also making it impossible to stay still.

“Fuck…ich brauche dich.“

“Then have me Mister Kaulitz…” you murmur.

Tom reached for his belt undoing it, unzipping his jeans and finally pulling out his throbbing hard cock, you admire his length, his pink tip, the veins that adorned his shaft and his size that looked like a perfect fit for your aching hole. He lifted up your skirt, his fingers brushing over your clothed pussy feeling your wetness through them.

“Tell me you want this Y/N.” He almost begged.

“I want this so much Tom.”

Satisfied with your answer he pulled down your panties the cold hair hitting your wet cunt making you feel goosebumps all over your skin.

“So wet for me baby…” he said while brushing his tip between your damp folds little moans escaping both of your lips, Tom slowly inserted himself into you, giving you time to get adjusted to him despite his neediness to fuck you.

He then proceeded to grab your thighs lifting you up a bit so that he could get a good angle to penetrate you, you hug him tightly your hands wrapped around his shoulders, he moves his hips at a steady pace making sure to hit your g spot repeatedly, feeling his tip brush against that spot makes your legs tremble. It’s hard not to moan at the overwhelming pleasure so you bite down on his shoulder making him grunt lowly, his hips keep thrusting upwards as you clench around him multiple times making him curse under his breath.

“You feel so good fuck mmhmm~” grunted Tom.

“Mhhm don’t stop Tom oh my god-“ you replied.

His thrusts now deeper making sure you feel every inch of him moving in and out of your tight pussy, your grip on his shoulders so hard he will be bruised for the next few days, his never stopping movements driving you closer to the edge as your need to cum grew with each thrust.

“Tom m’gonna cum-“

“Yeah cum for me baby, cum on this cock yeahhh~”

With a few more of Tom’s powerful thrusts you came all over his cock, you wetness coating his length as he kept fucking you desperately wanting to reach his orgasm.

“Oh mmhhm yeah m’gonna cum on this pussy oh fuck yeah-“ he moaned.

Slapping his hips against yours repeatedly hitting your cervix with his tip a few more times he came deep inside you letting out a low moan, his movements becoming slower as he rode his high.

“You did so good for me…” he whispered next to your ear placing a small kiss on your lobe.

You smiled back at him looking at his handsome face in pure adoration. He helped you get clean with the few tools that he had in his office, and later that day he drove you to your dorm.

After this day you and professor Kaulitz maintained a private relationship.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel tom kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz smut

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galacticspaceguy · 11 months

Note

can i have a miguel o’hara platonic reader?? maybe younger sibling and he’s overly protective of them. they want to fight alongside miguel and help him restore the multiverse but miguel wont allow them. they get into a mini argument which ends with them hugging n stuff and finally miguel allows his younger sibling to fight w him IDK IF THIS IS A LOT BUT I NEED MORE PLATONIC X READERS 😭😭

Miguel O’Hara x gn! Reader (platonic)

You were Spider-Man.

Ok, You were all Spider-Man.

But you were different. At least, Miguel would say so. Not in a bad way. Miguel just liked you more than everyone else.

You were younger, and he felt responsible for you.

You both come from different worlds, except his was gone. You were the only good thing he had left, you were like the little sibling he never asked for but always wanted.

How did you two meet? Well, it’s a long story.

It actually isn’t that long.

Almost a year ago, you were fighting Green Goblin, and then Miguel showed up, and kicked his ass.

-and then you got recruited.

You don’t really know why though, you never did anything.

You mostly stayed in the lobby. Correction, you only ever stayed in the lobby. Yeah, you had your own earth and everything, but Miguel had a bunch of stuff figured out so all the dangerous criminals in your world would be taken care of.

Now all that was left was small crimes, like break-ins or petty theft. You spent most of your days getting cats out of trees.

It was nice not getting the shit- crap beaten out of you every few weeks, but this was just boring.

But you guess with Miguel to keep you company, it wasn’t too bad.

It was obvious to the rest of the spider lobby that Miguel was protective of you- perhaps too much. They even started calling you “Y/N O’Hara” or “mini O’hara”, much to your own amusement.

“Hey, Miguel!” You called out, strolling into Miguel’s totally not evil void office. “You done brooding, I got us empanadas from Earth- something-something,I forgot.”

You held two white styrofoam containers in your hands. You clicked the web shooter in your palm. A web stuck into a base and you swung yourself up to Miguel’s upper platform.

“At first I was gonna get Chinese takeout, but it turns out some guy exploded the place, so this shall suffice!” You lightly tossed him one of the containers.

You took a seat on top of a table, crossed your legs and started digging in.

“So-“ you said through bites. “What did you do today despite standing here all menacingly?”

Miguel had taken a seat, picking at little bits of his food.

Miguel looked at you with a look you could only describe as a silent “really?”.

“I’m kidding!” You threw your hands up innocently. “But no, seriously what have you been doing in here?”

He placed his food down, and pulled up a screen, showing off a picture of the Spiderverse- or the ultimately confusing Humanoid-Arachnia, poly multiverse- or whatever Miguel calls it.

“More worlds are becoming infected. It’s like the whole multiverse is about to collapse in on itself.” His tone of voice was already serious, but you knew behind that stoicism, he was scared.

You ate your food down, and walked towards him. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the red little dots on the screen, the names of different spider universes popping up like crazy.

“What am I even looking at right now?” You said this as more of a joke. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Please, take this seriously.”

“I will once you give me my first job.” You crossed your arms. You’ve been begging to be out in the field for months, to no avail.

Miguel got up and turned to face you. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this-“

There was a loud beeping sound coming from the screen.

“Lyla, what’s going on!?”

“Another dimension, another anomaly, you know the drill.” The mini holographic woman said.

Miguel sighed, his face a blank slate of unknown emotions. He started walking away. You trailed behind him.

“Great, let’s get going!”

He froze in his tracks. “Who said you were going.”

“Uh, me.” You stopped and turned to look at him, placing a confident hand on your hip.

“No.” He brushed past you.

“Wait, what!?” You quickly caught up with him, but he continued walking. “But I’ve been waiting for this for months!”

“You’re not going.” He didn’t even look at you. He started tampering with his watch.

“But that’s not fair!?” You yelled. You stopped, and stood there. He heard your steps come to a stop, and he slowly came to a halt.

“It’s too dangerous.” He still wasn’t looking at you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

“You can’t be serious.” You almost laughed. “You call up Jess for backup, and she’s with child!” You scoffed.

“You’re not ready.” He said, a bit louder this time, clearer.

“Yes, I am. I’m spiderman! I’ve been ready, why won’t you let me do this!?” You walked up to him. He finally turned to face you.

“You’re not going. That’s final.” He shook his head. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

He didn’t think you were strong enough.

You weren’t enough.

“You don’t think I can do it!?” You yelled.

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant-“

“Oh, sure!” You’d scoffed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “That’s why you won’t let me tag along- or won’t even let me fight my own battles, why not, huh? Am I not strong enough for you?”

You were jolted forward when he grabbed your shoulders. He shook you. You froze in his grasp.

“I can’t lose anyone else!”

He screamed. The emotional walls he held up fell. He panted, seemingly out of breath from a single sentence. He let go of you, letting his hands fall to his sides.

Everything is so eerily quiet, nothing but the sounds of shaky breaths and the sounds of machinery in the background.

“I can’t…” Miguel said in nothing higher than a whisper. If he spoke another word, he would break.

You wrapped your arms around him. It catches him off guard at first, but quickly he holds you, like if he lets go, you would disappear.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, and you can feel his arms tighten around you.

After what felt like an eternity of it just being you two, you let go. Miguel looks away to hide his tear stained face.

“You get one mission. If it goes well, you can come on more.” His voice was hoarse, but it was beginning to return to its normal tone.

“Yes!” You shouted, and hugged him again, this time it was short and outlived. He smiles down at you.

“What are we waiting for?” You asked, pulling him along. “Let’s go save the multiverse!”

#across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #oneshot #writing

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 2,000 Warnings: Some angst

Part 1: Proximity

You’ve grown up watching your parents. At fourteen, you already understood how rare their relationship was—high school sweethearts, married for sixteen years, and certified soulmates.

Apparently it was even more rare to find your soulmate so early in life, but as Mom said, Sometimes the universe helps you out.

But you just started high school, and after surveying the pool of guys you have to work with, you really hope that “universe” stuff is just wishful thinking.

Because just this morning, Danny Schmitt got his hand stuck in the automatic stapler during Math class. Meanwhile, his friends were collecting bets on how many stitches he was going to need once they finally pried his fingers out.

Dad would call those guys dumbasses. You were inclined to agree.

You looked away from the scene (there was a lot of blood, and now your teacher was trying to free Danny with the only tool in the utility closet: a large hammer). But you couldn’t focus on your busy work like your teacher instructed either.

Sometimes, you still found it hard to believe your parents had met in high school. They had such an easy way between them, and not just because they could hear one another’s thoughts.

Mom was a kindergarten teacher, patient, kind, and encouraging. She came from a family of professors and school administrators, who frankly thought she could’ve done more with her life than “wipe five year olds’ noses.” Last Thanksgiving, she smiled and told Great Aunt Janet, “At least my five year olds can wipe their own asses.”

Smirking, Dad had followed up with, “How’s the incontinence, Jan? Ain’t lettin’ up at all?”

Dad was a cop, though he wasn’t as strict as he could've been. Or as dumb as cops seemed to be in the movies.

No, your dad could be stern, but he was always fair, even if you…didn’t really hang out with him much. Mom was basically your best friend, while Dad was often too busy to know what was going on in your life.

Really, you just couldn’t see what your parents had in common, other than the dusty, midwestern town where they’d grown up. (Speaking of which, you shivered and zipped your coat higher up on your neck. Even indoors, winter in South Dakota was nothing to sneeze at.)

But your parents would share a look sometimes. Your mom would smile, and your dad’s mouth would quirk up at the corner, his eyes softening in a way they only did for her. And then you’d remember that they had their own world that you couldn’t really understand just yet.

“All right,” your teacher said. He wiped sweat from his brow while Danny’s friends carried him off to the nurse’s office. The stapler was in pieces on the floor, but poor Danny still had two huge staples in his index and ring fingers. “I think we’re done for the day. Just finish workbook pages for chapter three and we’ll cover it tomorrow.”

Yes! Math was not your strongest subject, but even you could finish four more square root problems. The teacher’s desk phone rang while you gathered your backpack and books. You were about to leave the classroom when your teacher called you back. You didn’t like the somber look on his face.

“You need to get to the principal’s office,” he said. “Your dad is there waiting for you.”

You didn’t know it then, but today was the day your childhood died—after Dad sat you down and told you what happened to your mom.

Winter in South Dakota was harsh. It could even be dangerous, especially on icy roads shared with grocery truck haulers.

They buried Mom in the same cemetery as your grandparents and your aunt (not Janet, by the way. You didn’t really remember your Aunt Karen, but your dad always avoided talking about his sister). The cemetery was small, but you guessed that made sense for a smallish town like Sioux Falls.

You stayed there until everyone else who loved your mom was gone, and it was just you and your dad left.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears—not until your dad set a hand on your shoulder. You tried to wipe them away quickly, even though you didn’t really know why you didn’t want him to see you crying. He just gave you this look. In his eyes, you could see every fathom of his heartbreak. In a way, it told you everything you needed to know about your dad.

So you leaned into his side, and he held you close while the icy winds whipped at both of you.

Snow crunched beneath someone’s feet, and you turned to see a man walking down the row of headstones. He looked kind of familiar…

He had a thick beard and wore a baseball cap, but he took it off once he got close enough to pay his respects—first to Mom…then to Aunt Karen.

“Jack,” he greeted with a nod of respect.

You looked up at your dad, and the free emotions he’d been wearing clammed up behind a more familiar stern expression.

“Bobby,” he said, nodding back. Realization finally dawned on you. Oh, Uncle Bobby?

You hadn’t seen your uncle since you were…ten? Probably since Aunt Karen’s funeral.

“I’m real sorry about Christine,” Uncle Bobby said. He sounded a bit gruff, but his eyes were kind when they met yours sympathetically. “About your mom.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but you nodded and wiped it away, sniffling.

“Thank you,” your dad said eventually. There was a brief, but awkward pause. Then Bobby nodded to himself and walked away, setting that faded blue baseball cap back on his head. You watched him go curiously.

“You remember your uncle,” Dad said. He didn’t seem happy about it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why didn’t he stay?”

He was family, after all.

Dad shook his head. There was a wry downturn to his lips. “He’s got a junk heap to look after.”

You frowned in confusion. But he didn’t explain what he meant. He just steered you back toward the car to go home.

Just as you both crossed under the iron arch to leave the cemetery, Dad reached into his pocket and gave you something. Your mom’s wedding ring.

“You can wear it if you want,” he said. “Or just keep it safe. Either way, just remember…she’s still with you. And I’m always gonna watch over you.”

The thought made you feel the slightest bit better, and also worse. Still, you took the ring and held it between your fingers. It was simple sterling silver, but beautiful all the same.

You got into his pick-up truck and he started the drive home. Just as you turned the corner, you hit a red light. You stared out the window as snow started a light fall, flurrying down to the damp pavement. Soon the ground would be icy and wet, and that reminded you of grocery trucks. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were sick of it. Sick of crying.

It actually annoyed you…or…did it?

A feeling fluttered in your chest. It felt like anxiety and irritation all wrapped up into one. And another feeling, this time attached to a thought. It felt hot in your throat, and a lot like—

It’s not fair!

The thought startled you. Because somehow (and you didn’t know why), it didn’t feel like you were the one that thought it.

Finally, the street light turned green. It flashed in the corner of your eyes, and then you noticed a sleek, black car coming in the opposite direction. You watched it pass by for a moment, until your dad distracted you with a question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. You blinked, trying to register what he said while you shook off the weird things you were feeling. Once your brain caught up to your mouth, you were finally able to answer.

“Not really.”

“Come on. I’ll get us a burger.”

You shrugged, but for once you really weren’t hungry.

“Dad, come on,” Dean said in frustration. On one hand, he didn’t want to argue with his dad.

On the other hand, this really wasn’t fair!

He was seventeen already. He’d gone on a handful of hunts with John before, so why not this one?

“Too dangerous,” John said. He looked over at Dean from the Impala’s driver’s seat. His tone boded no further argument. “Djinn are tricky. Even seasoned hunters have trouble with ‘em.”

Dean frowned. “I’m ready, Dad.”

“Do we have to go to Bobby’s house?” Sam piped up from the back seat. At thirteen, he was getting more and more lippy.

“Cheaper than a motel.” John smiled, then glanced at his younger son through the rear-view mirror. “Besides, why not Bobby’s?”

Sam sighed. “His heater doesn’t always work.”

“Well, I’ll help him take a look before I go,” John replied. Dean stared at the side of his dad’s face for a while, but he knew a lost argument when he saw one.

…Still, he couldn’t help but try.

“Dad,” Dean pressed.

John’s gaze stayed on the road. “Not this time, son. You and Sam’ll be okay at Bobby’s.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, bored at Bobby’s. But he knew it was better than being left at a crusty motel room. He was annoyed, but he could deal with it.

Until something else began to creep up in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt since…since his mom died.

It was this ball of lead in his chest, weighing him down and constricting his throat. It felt a lot like…like fear, and sadness. And finally confusion. He was confused?

Maybe.

Sad? Afraid? Not really, no. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t thought about his mom like that in a while…

So what the hell?

Those sensations only lasted for a moment—the time it took them to finally cross the street at the red light and pass a pick-up truck going the opposite way.

But that moment seemed to drag on for minutes. Now he really was confused.

He sat still, hesitating, until the feeling eventually passed.

“Hey, Dean, where’s the Batman comic?” Sam leaned up by his ear to ask.

Dean almost flinched. He played it off though, and turned to look back at his brother.

“It’s in my bag, but wait ‘til we get to Bobby’s.”

“Why? That’s like, a whole ten minutes away,” Sam pointed out.

“Because my bag’s under a ton of stuff back there. Just leave it for a few minutes,” Dean said. He sensed that Sam was about to get all bitchy and not let it go, but then John cut in.

“He’s right, Sam. Just cool it until we get there.”

Sam frowned, slumping into his seat with an annoyed huff. Wanting to tease him out of his kid funk, Dean smirked, reached back and playfully tapped his knee. “Yeah, cool it.”

Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop.”

“Make me, dork.” Accompanied by another teasing flick to his ear. Sam hit him back, and it would’ve devolved into an immature, but not uncommon free-for-all, if not for John’s heavy sigh and a sharp warning.

“Boys, enough!”

Then the car was silent. Sam huffed again and settled back into his seat. Dean tapered down his smile and sat back in his too. He looked out the window and saw the snow beginning to fall. Without meaning to, his mind drifted back to that weird feeling in his chest.

He rubbed his chest absently. But soon enough, he forgot about it. Just like you did.

Neither of you realized exactly what happened that day.

It was the first tug of a lifelong bond, seared into your souls.

AN: Okay, this is my first soulmate AU! Maybe the end was a little melodramatic there lol.

Let me know in the comments what you think! Then keep reading. ;)

Here it is: Part 2.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #spn fics #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #bobby singer #john winchester #soulmates #dean x female reader #soulmate au #fluff #some angst #dean winchester x female reader #zepskies writes

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konniesreality · 7 months

Note

I've a piece of advice for everyone who trying to shifting/void whatever just give your self 3 days

For the next 3 days spend your day reprogramming your mind look ik going to void /shifting is easy you don't need a whole ass method or whatevaa but as we have certain believes and perspective towards life so initially it's a bit hard to just accept something new for our subconscious it says (no that's not true)

But just imagine you are at a new place so obviously you don't know the routes right? But what if someone keep telling you again n again that this way goes to hotel, this way goes hotel after few time you'll be like ohhh fuckk ik can you plz stop

Same way we have to let our mind get familiar with this new route

But firstly you should believe that shifting/ void do exist don't be like ohh is it even real it seems unreal to you because you haven't heared it from your childhood but that's doesn't mean it does not exist, so first of all stop questing yourself about it's existence

Now what you have to do is select 3 days from your preference and keep it in your mind that on the third day you are going to shift another thing during these 3 days at the initial 2 days don't try to shift I'll explain you later why you should not.

Day 1- just take a piece of paper or your phone anything it's up to you there should be two columns first believes second disbelieve now what you gonna do is on the believes section write things which you actually believe such as water keeps us hydrated but along with these sentence put some shifting/ void sentence repeatedly such as I can shift, shifting is easy for me, regardless of everything I'll shift, and much more it should be in a way which seems natural to you that's why I said put basic things which you actually believe in between first line should be any basic thing which you believe then about shifting then something else then again shifting like that and on the disbelief side write down things which you don't believe keep it simple like ghosts, black magic, and so on once you done go through this list throughout the day and lock it down in your subconscious that yeah this is what I believe and this is what I don't okayy?

Day 2- so this day you have to show gratitude towards whatever you believe like God or may be universe or whatever your superpower your guardian angel it could be anything show gratitude that omg I'm so grateful I came to know about this concept I meant to fulfill my desires or I deserve to live my DR that's why out of millions of people only few people know about this and I'm one of them also you just have to stay excited of course not the whole day but whenever you can because one day has already pass you are on the second and finally tomorrow is the day when you entering your DR so stay happy cheer the moment, feel excited about it you get it right?

Day 3- FINALLY YOUR DAY HAS ARRIVED TODAY IS THE DAY MY KUDOSSS!

This entire day you have to think that everything every single thing whatever you are doing throughout the day is bringing you closer to your DR let's say you are drinking water you'll be like ysss this water helps in my shifting, omg I'm taking a nap this brings me closer to my DR and stuff like that also keep reminding yourself that today is the day every second every minute that passes bring you close to the time when you are going to shift and enter in your desired reality.

Now at night do whatever method you follow for shifting and just enter like yess ENTER IN YOUR DESIRED REALITY GOOO DO IT!!!

And a bonus point you can do vaunts, and listen to subliminal throughout these three days ( it's optional btw but it helps)

Let me know the success stories byy byyy🤍🤍

Thank you so much anon! Everyone do thisssss 💗💗💗💗💗💗

#ask #void state

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ramshackledtrickster · 3 months

Note

Thoughts on the tyranny of king Washington dlc?

Not good.

I believe I’ve talked about this before on my blog but I can’t find the posts to link back to rn unfortunately.,,

But uhh I’ll just. Lightning round it real fast

“it’s all a dream” dumbassery

Racism behind the scenes (exclusion of indigenous talent and consultants that were present in the main game, very little care or no usage of the Kanienkehá:ka language, etc)

P much non of the indigenous cast returned except for Noah as Ratonhnhaké:ton. Ziio, Kanen’tó:kon, Oiá:ner… all different people (and all white or non indigenous if memory serves me right. I heard a story where Tiio Horn didn’t even know the dlc was being made until Noah told her at a con)

Killing ziio again for no god damn reason. And Kanen’tó:kon. Oh how about we kill Oiá:ner this time too. All of em died shamefully.

Writing Ratonhnhaké:ton pretty badly,,?? Idc if it’s bc of the weird tea he drank he shouldn’t be an asshole to Kanen’tó:kon and have that go unaddressed

Making him more animalistic and a jerk in general. Like the animal spirit dream segments keep making him run around on all fours n snarling n shit STOP IT

THEY WROTE ZIIO SO BADLY????? She only appears as this big floating head after her death shaming him for drinking the tea and she finally says “you’re no son of mine” JESUS CHRIST???????? This is not my Kaniehtí:io who are you and what did you do to her. No amount of girlbossism is gonna fix this for me

The spirit animals powers and plot … self explanatory (I love how ac3 took efforts to avoid harmful stereotypes and then just mega beamed it into the dlc)

His outfit,,, most of the game is in winter why aren’t u dressed more practically omg. Also I get.. weird vibes from it idk. It low key feels like an excuse to just make him scantily clad eye candy (also they debuffed him a lil which makes me sad. You are dehydrated !!!!)

“Wouldn’t it be wild if George Washington was genocidal good thing he never had the apple irl” hate to break it to you but— (I’m sorry I just. The framing in the game irks me where they treat him being racist as being the result of the apple and that he’s just a misunderstood guy that wants a vineyard or whatever tf he said in the game)

Thomas Jefferson being here and being a good guy. Idk I just. I don’t like it.

It has a salvageable premise,, a reimagined history timeline of a largely indigenous cast rising against a maniacal George Washington that shoots lasers. In the hands of a better crew and artist i think it would have been great and fun but as is.,,

I also like bad end alternate universe stories where someone gets dropped into a world where everything they know is wrong!! Call me silly but. Phineas and Ferb across the second dimension. But no yeah this is awful awful awful despite using a trope I like.

The only good thing I can say about tokw is that it has a great score. Lorne Balfe knocks it out of the park again but no yeah this kinda sucks ass imo. Also Noah’s voice performance really went off here but that’s it.

If I find the posts I talked abt this before in I’ll link it here but yeah. Lucky me that my favorite ac game also has the worst dlc of the entire franchise. And so the monkey paw curled.

Also heads up I’m not indigenous so when I talk abt the more racial stuff here, I’m not speaking from experience but rather what I’ve learned from other people who discuss stereotypes in media and what should be done to allow better representation

Anyways that’s abt it will edit if I find my old posts

#tyranny of king washington #assassins creed #ask to tag #and I say all this bc I LOVE ac3.#why is the dlc so….. hhghhghfg

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codfanficedits · 4 months

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Behind the mask - Part eight.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 3454 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Fluff and Angst.

A/N: Simon would be around 22/23 in this fic, so it would be set around 2015 ish? Sorry for uploading so late, I had a massive writersblock and my life is a mess right now lol

There, he said it, and Simon could feel his heart thumping out of his chest. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if you just mumbled those words the other night? What if he just ruined whatever it was that the two of you had going on. What if. What if. What if.

“I love you too.”

Your words are like music to his ears and he can’t supress the smile that formed on his face. His arms wrap around your waist again, and your face gets peppered with little kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.” He whispers into your ear, and he finally feels happy, he finally feels as if the universe isn’t out to fuck him over, no, Simon feels as if the universe is smiling at him.

He finally lets go off you, to turn on the shower and he watches in awe when he sees you put up your arm. “Not a hairwash day.” He chuckled, remembering your earlier words from the day before. Just watching you do the most basic things feels like a treat to him. Simon still doesn’t fully know how the two of you shifted from being friends to being.. this so easily, but he is not the one complaining.

He pulls you closer to him in the shower, being careful enough to not wet your hair, and he can’t help but smile. Your naked body looks absolutely gorgeous and he would devour you whole if he could. But something stings him. Even though you’ve been inseparable the moment you woke up in his arms, there was never been an official title for the two of you, and he can’t help the slight worry that someone will come and take you away from him, and he can’t have that. You’re his girl, and he wants the rest of the world to know that too.

He watches while you wash yourself, what if another man would ever lay hands on you? The same way he had done? No, he can’t have that. He doesn’t want to share you, he doesn’t want to risk losing you because he never had the balls to put an official name on it.

“Was wondering what we are.” He mutters, his voice barely audible over the constant stream from the showerhead. You turn around to face him, and you can see the whirlwind of emotions on his face, the worry, the jealousy, the tenderness. “What was that?”

Simon straightens his back, trying to silence his insecurities. “Just wondering what we are.” He repeats, a bit louder than before. Your head gets tilted to the side, while there might never have been a verbal agreement that the two of you were exclusive, it certainly felt that way for you. “Let me ask you a question.” You respond. “How would you like to be introduced as the next time I skype my parents again?”

“As your boyfriend.” He is quick to answer, worried you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t answer you quick enough. “That is if you would have me.” Simon added with a sheepish smile.

In response you can only laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck to press a kiss on his lips. “Of course I would have you as my boyfriend. And I think my grandmother would love it when I introduce you as my boyfriend too.” Your hands move down to give his ass a playful slap, before you step out of the shower. “Go get your ass washed.” You command him. “I want to get the stuff we need for the paper mâché.”

Simon salutes you with a grin before he starts his shower routine.

Who would’ve thought going craft shopping with two soldiers would be so chaotic? You knew what you needed, balloons, glue, water, paint and a bunch of old newspapers. Simon however, had never really had the opportunity to explore that side of him, so the man needed to touch every single texture he could get his hands on, from the googly eyes, to a magic twisty worm.

“Are you sure I don’t need this?” He asks, holding up a pack of glitter glue. “I like the dark blue.” He muttered to himself. And it pains you, no matter how much you try to see the good side of this, the fact that he can finally discover all the things you deemed normal during your childhood. It hurts knowing that he never got the chance to when he was growing up.

“Well.” You start your answer. “You can always buy it and maybe we can use it for something else?” You can’t think of a single thing it might be useful for, but at the same time, it’s impossible to say no to him. If a little bit of glitter glue will help his inner child, who are you to ruin it.

“Do we have everything?” He asks, placing the glue into the shopping cart. You shake your head. “Before I forget it, we need a mixing bowl, and some paintbrushes too. Or do you want to paint with your fingers?”

In return he shoots you a grin. “I can do a lot of things with my fingers.”

You just roll your eyes at his comment, before you go and study the different paintbrushes, eventually settling for a large pack with different kind of sizes. You drag him and the cart along through the store in order to get a mixing bowl, and Simon holds it up triumphantly when you walk past it and he spots it.

“After this, we just need to go to the library.” You say, as you guide him and the cart towards the checkout. “For what?” He asks, carefully following your movement.

“The newspapers. Apparently they have a huge amount of newspapers that become worthless after a few days.”

Simon nods, it did make sense what you were saying, it was just something he would’ve never thought about. Another little thing about you that he adored so much. “Anything else we need to do while we’re out and about?” He asks, placing the equipment on the conveyor belt so the cashier can scan them.

“Oh yeah, I ordered my Katniss costume a while back, it should be delivered at my PO box, so maybe we can check that out?”

Again Simon just nods, he is more than happy to just spend time with you, even if it meant running some errands. It was funny to him, he never thought he would be the person to emotionally open up to another human being ever again, but there was just something in you that made him want to live again. Not that he was suicidal, not in the slightest, but before you, his days were gray, coated in a layer of thick dust, the same over and over again. And then you came in, blowing that dust away, painting his days with your colours, and it was as if he could see the beauty of the world for the first time.

He doesn’t even pay attention to the price when he goes to swipe his card. Although he is always a little nervous that his card would be declined, a breathe of relief passes his lips when its not the case, and he stuff the receipt into the plastic bag. He offers you his arm as the two of you walk out of the store. “Where do you want to go first?”

You think for a little while. “I think it would be best to first go to the library, then go to my PO box, and maybe we can grab a bite to eat afterwards?”

Good, that meant more time with you, and Simon is ready to rip the world apart if that meant being with you. “Sounds like a plan, lovie.” He murmurs, feeling content, before he presses a kiss against your temple again.

He puts the bag into the trunk of the car before he takes place in the drivers seat. He frowns when you don’t put on your seatbelt, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest, refusing to even start the car. Right now, you’re the most important thing in his life, and he would be damned if he put you in to danger. His eyes shift from the seatbelt to you and you finally catch his hint.

“Sorry, sorry.” You mutter as you put on you seat belt, his shoulders lose their tension and he starts the car, the moment he’s comfortable enough, his hand rests on your knee, creeping a little towards your inner thigh, before he settles on a comfortable spot, his thumb mindlessly running circles over your skin.

The drive to the library feels way too short, and Simon waits in the car while you run inside to get those newspapers. A sigh escapes his lips as he leans back into his car seat. For so long he has thought that being happy, being content wasn’t written in his stars, but now that you were his, he allowed himself to feel that happiness again, to look towards the future as something that he wants to experience.

And when he spots you again, a big bundle of newspapers in your arms, he can’t help but feel relieved, everything would be okay, everything would work out in his favour. Your parents liked him, your grandma liked him, you liked him, that was all he needed.

He wants to help you take care of those newspapers, but he knows you, he knows your pride, the constant urge to do everything yourself, to not give any of your work out of your hands, it’s something he doesn’t like, but he understands, so Simon patiently waits until you’re done, in the meantime he is just silently admiring you.

“Do you know where the post office is?” You ask, before you can even take a seat inside the car. You make sure to make eye contact with him when you put on your seat belt, and Simon let out a dry chuckle. “I do, I do, don’t worry your pretty head over it.” His hand moves to your thigh again, the moment the car starts rolling, he enjoys feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

The traffic is quiet and again, the drive doesn’t take long enough for him, as he parks the car close to the post office. A quick kiss gets pressed on his cheek before you disappear out of the car again. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, and his mind wanders over to you again, how grateful he is that you felt the same way that he did, that he had not misread the situation. Yet he couldn’t seem the shake this eerie feeling, the feeling that nice things like this don’t last for a man like him. But he pushes away those thoughts when he sees you approaching the car again, a box in your hands, a huge smile on your face. You seemed so excited for your costume. The box gets tossed on to the backseat, and he has to hold himself back from pulling you into the car, onto his lap and pepper you with kisses.

But he doesn’t, not yet anyway. “Still want to grab that bite to eat?” He asks and you nod, it is nice to have a day away from the base, to not be a soldier all the time. “There is this little sandwich shop, that is like a five minute drive.” You propose and if it was up to Simon he would take you to the end of the world to get you whatever it was that you wanted.

Simon starts the car once more, following your instructions to the brim, and he parks the car in front of the sandwich shop, it’s small, it seems cozy, it seems perfect to spend time with you. As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you press your lips against his, your tongue teasing his bottom lip, and in response Simon let out a soft groan, before his hand cupped your cheek.

There is a grin on your face as you pull back. “Ready to go?” Simons shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he shakes his head. “I can’t, not yet.” For a second you’re worried he is hurt, but your eyes shift to his lap and he tries to straighten the fabric of his jeans. The bulge in his pants reveals the reason why and you can’t help but grin at it. “You poor, poor boy.” You tease him, as your fingers run up his thigh.

“Can you stop it?” He groans. “You’re not making this any easier for me.”

“Tut, tut.” You counter, “do you not want to be a good boy?”

Good boy.

Good fucking boy.

Shit, that is making him feel things he has never experienced before. Before he knows it, he can feel himself get all flustered at your words. “Stop it.” He grumbled, trying to hide how he really felt. He was a soldier for crying out loud, he wasn’t supposed to swoon this hard when someone, even if it was you, called him a good boy.

With a final shake of his head, Simon gets out of the car, his arm around your shoulder while he pressed a kiss against your temple. “You’re an awful tease.” He murmured, his lips still pressed against your temple.

His around falls off you when you enter the sandwich shop, though Simon has the need to keep on touching you, to at least have a hand on you, no matter when you two are, he keeps his hand to himself. After all, you two are still in public.

“Any idea what you would like to get?” He asks, as he stares at the menu board. “Don’t know yet.” You answer. “Either the sandwich with roasted chicken and arugula. Or the goat cheese with honey and walnuts.”

“Oh.” All of the sudden Simon feels like a fool, He had been focussing on a simple egg salad sandwich, or a grilled cheese. But goat cheese with honey and walnuts? It wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to try it. It makes him feel a little bit like a simpleton.

“How about we order both and share? Half of each.” He proposed, trying to hide his feelings regarding the whole subject, but you seem to miss the clue, just nodding slowly as you take in the offer. Simon gives your temple another quick kiss. “Go take a seat, lovie. I’ll order.”

You do as you’re told, taking a seat in a little booth while you watch the large soldier order for the both of you. You rest your head in your hand, intrigued by him. Sure you had a little crush on him when you first met him, those dark blonde locks, that cheeky smile. But once you got to know him, to see past the façade that was being a rough soldier, that was when that stupid little crush turned into something more and you couldn’t be more grateful that he felt the same way about you too.

You look up as he sits down next to you, arm wrapped around your shoulder as he pulls you close. He never had imagined that the hardest part about being in a relationship would be the amount of touch he felt he needed in order to survive. “What were you smiling about?” He murmured, his lips pressed against your hair.

“You.” You answer, and Simon looks up with a smile. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“And what is it about me?”

“Everything.” You say with a sigh and you wonder how much love he has ever received in his life, you know some men don’t like it, but you want him to experience what you had gotten before. “You’re amazing Si, you’re sweet, you make me feel wanted, you make me feel at home.” You add.

After your words you lean towards him. “And on top that, you’re handsome, I keep getting lost in your eyes, there is no place where I would rather wake up in than your arms.”

Simon feels flushed after your words. How should he respond to such kindness? Is it even possible to respond to something like this? Part of him wants to tell you, you’re talking out of your ass, that you’re talking bullshit, that he isn’t all that special.

But the other part, holy shit, that other part is over the moon. He is so, so happy that you feel that way about him, that you love him the way he hasn’t been loved before. The way he isn’t able to love himself.

He wants to say so much, he wants to thank you, to hold you, to kiss you and to keep you close to him until the end of times, because being with you, feel like he could concur the end of the world. “Thank you.” He mumbled softly, Simon wants to say more, but he is interrupted by the sandwiches being brought over to the table.

It had never occurred to Simon that goat cheese would be delicious, or that arugula belonged on a sandwich, but you made it him favourite flavours. The day seems to end way too quickly when you and him arrive back to base, days like these make the army more tolerable.

But no matter how nice it has been to be with him, no matter how much you enjoyed having him around you, you crave some time for yourself, some silence, no more stimulation for your brain.

“My room or yours?” Simon’s voice snaps you out of it.

“Well.” You begin. “I was kind of hoping we could both stay in our own rooms tonight.” It wasn’t something you could say easily, you were worried he would understand it wrong, you were worried he would be upset.

And damn right Simon was upset, he could feel a tug on his heartstrings the moment the say those words. Did you not want to be with him? Did he do something wrong? “What? Why?” He’s confused, not understanding why you need the space, while you felt as if you had to walk on your toes.

“I just need some peace and quiet around me, Simon.” You answer. “It is nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?” He shoots back. “You just told me, I don’t provide you with some peace and quiet.”

Well, yes, you did say that, but you didn’t mean it like that, you didn’t meant to tell him he didn’t provide you with some peace and quiet, you just needed some time alone, some time so your brain doesn’t get overstimulated and fried to mush. Why was that so hard for him to understand?

“It’s not like that.” You mumble, unable to process what is really happening, but Simon sees it as indifference, he just told you how much this hurts him and you’re acting like this? Hours ago you told him the sweetest things known to man, and now you’re telling him you need the peace and quiet that he can’t provide you?

“Then how is it?” His tone is sharp, a defence mechanism to stop himself from getting too hurt, too attached. And you’re getting tired, you don’t want to explain yourself, you don’t want to talk, you don’t want to think, all you want to do, is to be alone for the night, to unwind.

“I just need some time alone, okay?” You snap back. “It’s not the end of the fucking world, Simon.”

But it felt like the end of the world for Simon. It felt as if he was attached to someone who didn’t want to be attached to him. And Simon only knew violence, Simon only knew how to solve things with harsh words, shouting and screaming. “Not the end of the fucking world, huh?” He hisses. “You pretend to love me, only to rip my heart out hours later?”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic.” You huff.

I’ll show you dramatic.

This would be the perfect time to break the cycle, but it is hard, it is difficult to change what he had learned to do all his life. His jaw clenches and his fist clench too, but he takes a deep breath. He is not his father and he never will be, he will do better.

“Maybe we need some time apart.”

His voice is calm, too calm even for the situation, you want to say something, anything at all, but the moment you open your mouth to speak, he turns around on his heels to walk away.

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popculturebuffet · 2 years

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So Let's Talk About Warner Bros Discovery Burning Down HBO Max for the Insurance Money

Okay real quick for those of you who don't know who I am: I"m Jake, I review animation on this fair blog sometimes on comission (which is open by the way) , and mostly just because I want to. I love all kinds of stuff from comics, to comic strips, to movies, and review all kinds in turns. I"m telling you this so you have full and proper context as to why Warner Bros Discovery's latests actions have been HELL on my anxiety. While this week has been a hard one for reasons that aren't your buisness, Warner just made it so much worse so rather than do three reviews this week, i'm doing two and this piece, outlying why I"m so nettled, why I no longer feel any security for anything warner has going , in production or otherwise, and why WBD sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms.

Let's begin with what's going on for those in the back who haven't heard: Last week Warner Bros Discovery made the earthshatteringly dumb decision to cancel their 40 million dollar Batgirl film, and not release it in any way shape or form as a tax write off as well as announcing they were canceling several other dc projects with the Arrowverse finally being taken out back and shot with the Flash getting canceled and given a smal lseason to wrap up (and Superman and Lois likewise detatching from said universe for it's own saftey), and just about every DC Project now in fear of being cut, paticuarlly the tv shows. The Flash MOVIE is weirdly exempt from this despite starring known human dumpster fire whose progressively spiraling Erza Miller. Granted they ARE getting help, so it might help, but it still feels odd to not drop THAT movie but drop one by people who have done absoltuely nothing wrong and is almost finished. And by odd I mean...

So yeah a 40 billion dollar diverse, great looking film is in limbo, any dc film that hasn't started shooting is in the firing range. While I do feel the DCEU badly needed an actual structure instead of just doing whatever movie without any real plan. But

Is somehow worse than no strategy. But there does seem to be SOME method to the madness here.. unfortunatley said method, as most perfectly put by my surrogate tv dad John Oliver "It seems like your trying to burn down my platform for the insurance money"

That does seem to be WBD's plan: Liquidate as much as possible, put as much of it as a tax writeoff as you can, and to hell with what comes next. There's no building going on here, just madly selling anything they can to make money. Which admitely I have done, I once had to sell off my entire 3ds collectoin to get buy, but i'm a 30 year old man with the body of an orangutan, not a BILLION dollar company that should know better. Even if Discovery is new at running this type of company, they seem more concerned with making as much money as possible and don't care if they actually surivive as a platform, if works of art surivive, or for anything other than getting a huge kickback.

And that brings me to today, the worst news in recent animation history. And keep in mind that history includes: 1. Disney cancelling the critically aclaimed and briliant owl house because it was too gay and trying to pretend that's not why they did it 2. Netflix's Childrens Content slowly collapsing into the sea with one or two exceptions. 3. Sex Monster John Lassiter somehow getting another job and a new movie AppleTV+ feels comfortable promoting. 4. The passing of Betty White, Ed Asner and Gilbert Gottfried

But yes HBO Max decided to delist a TON of his content. While ti hasn't happened yet and the backlash, and a recent blow to their stock due to this bullshit as a rare instance of corprate greed biting them, MIGHT stop it, it might be too late. The shows being chopped include Close Enough, a show they had just canceled a week ago and now decided no one can enjoy and that was not only one fo the platforms lead shows, but it's only adult animated comedy that didn't make people throw things at it on sight, Infinity Train, a show people were already mad was screwed out of more than four seasons, Ok KO Let's Be HEroes, one of the best cartoons of the 2010s, Mao Mao Heroes of Pure Heart which was stuck in cancelation limbo, and victor and Valentino, which I have not watched but is JUST going through season 3 as we speak. None of it makes sense, none of it is right and all of it is clearly a ploy to mak ea tax writeoff. And while previous managment had done this, there was a simliar incident iwth greats such as megas xlr and sym boinoic titan, never before has a company made material not only unavablaibe but so nakedly tried to claim something as a loss. I'm HOPING this bs dosen't fly in court, as none of these shows really are the net loss they thinkt hey are, paticuarlly close enough and infinity train, so none of this should add up, but i'm not holding my breath.

I'm also not holding my rage. I belivie in works being avaliable to people. Good or bad, as long as their not harmful , they should be out there and avaliable. Things should be preserved. And making it so several shows are just outright unwatchable, JUST so you can make money is one of the most greedy, discpiable, hateful and agonizing acts i've seen in some time. OK KO thankfully escapes thanks to being on hulu, but that may not be forever and they may try this shit with other platforms. For once most of these shows being on netflix in other countries is a lifesaver. And yes you can still find the stuff that's being taken on the internet, piracy can be bad but it can also be a way to preserve stuff, but I should be able to have a legal and fine means of watching Close Enough. I shoudln't hav eto scour for a show just because you want money. I'm still subscribed to hbo max as it's not me who does and it still has enough content.. but if they keep doing this scorched earth nonsense, it's going to leave them with nothing to sell and nothing to buy and no one to buy into thei rshit. and i'm hoping they learn their lesson and ease back before it's too late and one of the best platforms in the streaming wars is gone.

For now though all I can do is wait and hope like hell more things I care about don't die a cruel greedy death.

#warner bros discovery #hbo max #close enough #infinity train #i'm pissed now

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 1 year

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My Professor PT. 4

Natasha Romanoff X f!reader

a/n: So long time no see with this one 😅...anyways I've been getting like an unbelievable amount of requests to continue this one so here we are! It has been SUPER long since I've written this and I did re read it but forgive me if there's maybe a continuity error or two...anyways...I hope you enjoy and as always my inbox is always open!

Warnings: Cussing, 18+, mentions of smutty shit

Word Count: 1485

Taglist: @yelenaslyubov @youreatotalposer @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @lilroachsworld @inluvwithfictionalwomen @x666hours @natashaswife4125 @onetruwhore @karmasgxrl @hopelesslyfallenninlove @setsuna1415 @swiftdazer @imobsessedwithmilfss @madamevirgo @louisprettybab @splatalia-jumpanova @jediluka @t00manyfand0ms (LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST)

God was going to class the absolute last thing you wanted to do today. What was even going to happen? She walked out on you this morning with no warning, no text, just left. So what, was she going to just go and lecture and act like nothing happened? Was she going to tell you why she walked out? Either way, class was the last thing on your mind but you also couldn’t let a stupid relationship get in the way after how hard you had worked to get here. So, of course, like the good student you are, you got off your ass, had a shower, grabbed a bagel and coffee and headed to class. You were a little bit earlier than everyone else but you liked to have time to enjoy your breakfast at one of the tables in the common area within the building of your lecture hall to unwind before having to sit down for two hours listening to the same woman who was going down on you last night speak about whatever it was she wanted to lecture on today.

As you sit there enjoying your coffee your phone buzzes and a notification with her name pops up at the top of your screen.

“Professor Natasha Romanoff: Class cancelled - Sorry for the last minute notice everyone but I am having some unfortunate car trouble and won’t be able to make it to the lecture this morning. I will see you all next week. Have a nice weekend.”

What the fuck?

She absolutely knew what she was doing, sending this and not reaching out to me first. She knew I was on this fucking mailing list for whatever bullshit course this is and that this would get me unbelievably agitated. Whatever. She's a bitch and I need to move on anyway.

I’m done, maybe I should just drop her class to make sure that shit’s final.

You decided to get some work done while you were on campus for a bit and headed home.

You’re done your work for the day and you have no other classes so what else is there to do in university other than school? You guessed it.

You made your way to the same bar you were at when you met Nat for the first time. Were you kind of hoping she’d be there? No. Subconsciously? Yes.

You walk in, pull up a stool as the bartender asks you what you want with the most beautiful smile. She obviously rakes in tips. You ask for two shots of Vodka that are quickly thrown back in seconds. Feeling nothing was kind of the goal at this point because even though you were full of rage and anger over what happened– you also developed deep feelings and what she did, how she left suddenly fucking hurt. The bartender continues to throw drinks your way, changing it up for you as the night went on, the drinks got fun, started tasting less like bitter alcohol and more like fruits and other flavours. The two of you talked quite a bit throughout the night but she also had other customers to tend to so you spent half your time just staring at your phone contemplating messaging her.

“Can I get a scotch – neat?” you ask.

She nods and grabs a glass from the back of the bar to pour your drink. After your first swig you open up your messages and send one her way.

Y/N: hi

Obviously you weren’t anywhere close to actually thinking she’d respond but you were past the point of giving any kind of shit.

You just kept looking at your phone when you saw the three dots pop up then quickly disappear. Your eyes were locked on the screen when all of a sudden a small grey text bubble pops up.

Nat: Y/N, it’s midnight. This is not appropriate. Not appropriate? What else wasn’t appropriate? When she had her tongue down my throat last night? Who the fuck does she think I am?

Y/N: Who gives a shit

Nat: We cannot do this again.

Y/N: Who Saus

Y/N: Saus*

Y/N: FUCK

Y/N: Says*****

Nat: Are you drunk

Y/N: Not really

Nat: How much have you had to drink

Y/N: She just gave me my 6th drink

Nat: Who’s she.

Y/N: Just the super hot bartender.

Y/N: You know the one…has the patchwork tattoos, toned arms, blonde hair and the most beautiful smile…doesn’t make me pay for my drinks.

Nat: Where are you.

Y/N: Out

Nat: Send me your location right now.

Y/N: Why? I am a big girl, I can go home with whoever I want.

Nat: Y/N, stop fucking joking around. I’m coming to get you.

Nat’s phone dings with your location popping up on find my friends. Within minutes you see her storm through the door.

“Let’s go.” She says in a stern tone.

“Natty!!! Becca, this is Natasha.” You say with a big goofy very drunk grin across your face as you boop Natasha on the nose and introduce her to the hot bartender.

“The girlfriend! She has been talking about you all night.” Becca says with a smile as shes cleaning glasses.

Natasha throws her a sarcastic smile-smirk as she grabs your arm and pulls you off the stool.

“Come on, we're going. And here.” Natasha says as she slaps down $150 on the bar to pay for the tab plus tip.

“No that’s oka–” The bartender speaks up.

“No, I insist.” Natasha says in a less friendly and more bitter tone.

Nat walks you into her car and buckles you in. “Don’t puke, this one’s a rental.”

You smile and nod at Natasha as you doze off in her back seat.

You wake up the next morning, in a new place.

Where the fuck are you?

Smells like coffee and bacon though so you could absolutely stick around.

Also, whose clothing are you wearing?

You slowly get out of bed and take a look around, there’s a cup of water and some Advil waiting for you on the side table. You take a big swig and head downstairs to where that glorious smell is coming from. You walk into the kitchen seeing your favourite redhead at the stove in her sweats and a tshirt cooking food.

“Finally awake I see.” Natasha says as she turns around.

You awkwardly smile and nod as you stand there.

“What happened…last night? Did we?”

“No. I picked you up from the bar and brought you here to sleep off your super fun night you had. Don’t worry, I slept on the couch.”

“No you shouldn't have done that I–”

“You what y/n? YOU chose to go out last night and do what you did. I had no choice.”

You felt bad. It’s not fair that you felt bad. She fucking broke your heart. But also why did she come pick you up? Did she care?

“Sit.” She says as she puts a plate of food down for you with some water and a coffee.

The two of you eat in silence, unbelievably awkward silence.

“Thank you.” You mutter out when you finish your final bites. “No problem.” She says back quietly.

“Nat–”

“What.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“I can’t tell you why.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you why I left without warning. That’s what you were going to say right?”

You look at her with a sad and slightly confused look on your face.

“But why not?”

“Because. I just can’t.”

“Because you don’t know…?”

“Stop it.”

“Or because you don’t want to..?”

“I said stop it!” She raises her voice.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just– was it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“For fuck sake y/n.”

“Y-You know what? You want to know why I left? Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. You’re like this kryptonite to me. You just came into my life and completely took it over, everything I do ends up making me think about you. The other night it got the best of me and we did some things we shouldn’t have so leaving before I could let you convince me to stay was the only way that I would be able to get out of there. Even when I left I was still FUCKING thinking about YOU. And then I tried to keep my distance but guess what? That clearly didn’t fucking work. Because look where we are.”

You looked at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly gaping open as she said all of these things at you, your incredibly hung over mind could barely process what she was saying. Everything she said sounded like stuff you wanted to hear but it was said in a way that didn’t feel welcoming.

– End of PT. 4 –

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