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#I’m not going to name any names or call anyone out for being obnoxious
shapeofmetal · 1 year
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Me: hmm I did not care for that interaction. “Blocks” ahh that feels better. Now I can go about my day.
The person I just blocked: on public social media “And then they BLOCKED ME. IT WAS SO RUDE. IM ENTITLED TO TALK TO OREO AND NOW THAT THEY HAVE BLOCKED ME HOW AM I GOING TO TALK TO THEM??? I’m deprived. Oreo is problematic actually! 🤬🤬🤬
Me: wow I’m so glad blocking people means I don’t have to see what they are saying. I’m living my life now and moving on.
The person I blocked: MOM SOMEONE ON TWITTER BLOCKED ME CALL THEIR MOM AND MAKE THEM TALK TO ME.
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lafleshlumpeater · 4 months
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Hi babe!! I loved your Luke x Aphrodite reader and was wondering if you could do another?? If you alr have an idea go ahead with whatever you want but maybe something with protective Luke 🤭🤭
I’m on a new Luke obsession from the show
Thanks!!!
thanks for requesting<3 i hope you like this!!
warnings: fem!reader, unwanted flirting, protective/possessive behaviour (not in a toxic way though), mentions of drinks (unspecified whether it's alcohol or not), one word that i think can be classified as a swear word?? lmk if i missed any
requests are always open <3
luke castellan masterlist part one
“Hi.”
You jump slightly. “Hey. You scared me,” you breathe a nervous laugh through your nose. What was taking Luke so long?
You and your boyfriend had gone to the fourth of July bonfire- together, obviously- and he had disappeared, mentioning something vague about drinks and the Stoll twins (probably seeking their most recent stock of soda stash, smuggled, of course) when a slightly older camper approached you. You recognised him as an Apollo camper- you had seen him train with a bow and arrow; he was good.
He sits down next to you on the sand, slightly too close for you to be fully comfortable. Your eyes dart around frantically, looking for one of your siblings to save you- but Silena was cosied up with Beckendorf, foreheads pressed together and giggling whilst Lacy was chatting up a newer camper. You curse internally, the rest of your siblings either splashing around in the ocean or helping set up for the firework display. You offer the unfamiliar camper another strained smile in a futile attempt at breaking the awkward silence.
What was his name? Something starting with 'M', maybe?
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” the mystery boy asks- a bit too directly, in your opinion, for someone you hardly know.
You give a little giggle, hoping it sounds appreciative of the basic compliment. Even after being in this agonising situation on multiple occasions, you had gotten no better at handling them. You sigh wistfully. If only your mother had given you powers to deter unwanted attention as well as attracting it.
“Uh… I’m waiting. For my boyfriend.” You ensure to place extra emphasis on the title. He smirks, unfazed.
“Some shitty boyfriend, huh?” He says in satisfaction, completely misreading the situation to fancy his own whims, accompanied with the fakest sympathetic sigh. It makes you want to scream.
“No, actually-”
“Actually, the ‘shitty’ boyfriend’s right here.”
You can’t help but exhale in relief, muscles loosening at the mere sound of Luke’s voice. You stand up, turning around to face him. “Luke.”
“Hey, doll.” The glare etched in his sculpted features (directed at the obnoxious flirt) contrasts greatly with the gooey sweetness of his greeting. “Who’s your friend?”
You try not to snort. “Uh…”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, wrapping a fierce arm around your shoulders. You melt into him. “There a problem, buddy?”
An amused smirk creeps onto your face, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Luke never calls anyone ‘buddy’.
“N- no, course not, I was just…” the Apollo camper stutters.
Luke raises a blond eyebrow. “Just?”
“Keeping her company!” he blurts out, already beginning to edge away from the conversation. 
Luke looks at the ground, lips curving upwards in a cold smirk. “Well, for next time, don’t worry. I’ll take you with me next time, sweet thing, if you feel lonely, ‘kay?” he simpers, half- joking for your entertainment, half in seriousness in wanting to ward off the unsuspected boy. By this time, he’s already gone and Luke leans down to whisper, hand tightening around your waist slightly as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “My girl,” he mutters.
taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
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justmeinadaze · 2 months
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Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."
A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.
This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.
Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.
This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).
Word Count: 8679
“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 
“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”
“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”
You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 
When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.
“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”
“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”
The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.
“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”
Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 
“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”
You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 
No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 
When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 
“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”
“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”
“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”
“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”
Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 
***
With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.
As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 
Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.
“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 
Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 
“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”
“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”
Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 
#############
That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 
“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 
“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”
“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.
“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”
“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”
“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”
“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”
“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”
You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 
After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 
“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”
His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 
Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.
“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”
Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 
“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  
Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 
***
“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”
Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 
The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 
No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.
Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 
“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”
Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 
Fuck me he’s big. 
You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.
With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 
“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”
Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.
“H-Harder, Steve, please.”
“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 
“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”
Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 
“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”
Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 
No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 
Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 
“Y/N…”
Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.
##############
What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 
Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 
As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 
“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 
“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”
“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”
That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 
“I’m doing what now?”
“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”
“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”
“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”
“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 
“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”
Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”
“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”
“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”
“What? No. I would never—”
“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”
“Nothing. I don’t—”
“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”
“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”
Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 
“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 
“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”
#############
A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 
Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 
As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 
Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 
“Is that my favorite piggy?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 
“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 
“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”
As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 
“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”
“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 
Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.
Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 
“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 
“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 
“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”
“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”
“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”
The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 
“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”
“WHAT?!”
Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 
“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”
“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”
Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 
***
When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.
“You ok, babe?”
His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 
When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”
“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”
His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.
Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 
Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
What could he have meant by that…
Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 
There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 
They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 
What must have happened to bring them together?
“Steven, you need to calm down.”
The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 
“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”
“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”
“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”
“Why then?”
“She…she seems like a nice girl.”
“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”
“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”
“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you.”
“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”
“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”
Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.
“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 
“I didn’t know you could sew.”
“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”
“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 
“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”
They both glance at each other as you blush. 
“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 
“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”
“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”
Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 
“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”
“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”
“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”
“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 
Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 
It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 
“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”
All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 
“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”
Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 
“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”
As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 
“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”
“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.
“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.
“Edward…”
“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”
“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”
“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”
“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”
The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 
“He said show me respect.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”
You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 
“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”
“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 
“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”
“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”
He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 
Or…
“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”
“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 
“Go ahead, Y/N.”
As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.
You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 
“Did you see our cocks?”
“Yes.”
Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”
Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 
“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”
“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”
Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 
“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”
He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 
“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”
“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”
“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”
While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 
“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”
“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 
“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.
You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?
“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”
As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.
“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”
“Our?”
Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 
“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 
The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 
“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “
“Good. Good girl.”
His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“Yes and no.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 
“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”
The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 
“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”
“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 
“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”
Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 
“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”
You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 
“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.
As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 
“What did I say? How do you answer us?”
“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”
Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 
“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”
“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”
“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”
“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”
Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.
“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 
“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”
Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 
“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”
“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 
At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 
“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”
Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 
“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”
Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 
“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”
Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 
“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”
Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 
Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 
“Sensitive. I like that.”
Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 
“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”
“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.
“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 
“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”
“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”
“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”
Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 
“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”
“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”
They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 
“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”
Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 
“We know. You’re sorry.”
Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.
“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”
“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.
“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”
“What do you want, Ed?”
“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”
Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.
“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”
Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 
Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 
Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 
“I’m…I’m…please…”
Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 
“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 
“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”
His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 
“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”
“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.
Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 
“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”
“Green.”
His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 
“Green, what?”
“Green, SIR!”
You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 
“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”
“Green, Mr. Harrington.”
As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 
“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 
Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 
“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”
The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 
“Still green, babe?”
“Yeeeees, sir.”
“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.
“Oh my god!”
With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 
“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”
“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”
“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”
“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”
“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”
As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 
You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 
You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 
“For me?”
“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 
Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 
“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 
Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 
“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”
As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.
“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”
Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 
“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”
Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 
“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”
Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 
“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 
“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”
Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 
“I guess we can sleep in the—”
“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 
“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”
At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.
“You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”
“10 years. Not much.”
“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”
“So do you, honey.”
“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”
“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”
“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”
Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 
##############
@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon
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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months
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late night talking
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summary: a chance meeting with harry before his wembley dates leads you into a bizarre friendship
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: i HATE writing meetings. this part is so slow but the next part is linked underneath, which is much nicer ;)
my masterlist can be found here!
“Just a caramel macchiato please”, you said, rubbing at your eyes as you spoke. You always had a hard time sleeping in hotels and tonight was no different. You’d travelled to London to attend some concerts with your best friend, and although she’d invited you to stay with her, you didn’t want to infiltrate her newlywed bubble. So now you were standing in a quiet Starbucks, in your pyjamas, at almost midnight.
You chose one of the comfy tables at the back, hoping not to be noticed by any of the other crazies out at this hour. But not long after you sat down, someone decided to sit in the seat immediately behind yours. You sighed and kept your eyes on your phone, knowing only too well what kind of person chooses a seat next to a woman in a deserted space.
“Sorry, do you have a napkin?” A man’s spoke came from behind you, interrupting your quiet solace. You grabbed one off your table and turned around to pass it over, not looking too closely at the man who asked. His gold rings caught your attention, an obnoxious H S that sent your wide eyes darting up to meet his. The brown curls peeking out from under his hood, the dimpled grin sitting on his chiselled face. It really was Harry. Your heart rate quickened, inches away from the face of the man you were here to see. His laugh broke your spell, and you realised you’d never even let go of the napkin. “Sorry, sorr-“, you spluttered, suddenly unable to think, let alone speak. Harry watched your brain reboot, his smile never faltering, before asking what you were drinking.
He looked over at you from the counter, taking you in. Your messy brown hair, your black vest top paired with pale pink pyjama pants. Your zip-up hoodie had slipped off your shoulders, allowing him to see some patchwork tattoos poking out.
When he returned, Harry sat down across from you and placed the drinks down gently. Holding out a hand for you to shake, he told you his name, which of course you already knew. “Y/N,” you replied, meeting his green eyes. “Well, Y/N, what are you doing in a Starbucks at this time?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his coffee. You mirrored him, bringing your cup to your lips before explaining how you couldn’t sleep in hotels and were in town for a show. He smirked, eyes glimmering knowingly. “I’m here for a show too. And I like being out at this time. It always feels more anonymous.”
~~~
The girl behind the counter called out to you, letting you know the cafe was closing. You hadn’t even noticed the tables being wiped down or the whirring of the coffee machines on their cleaning cycle. Harry slipped a 20 onto the counter as you stumbled out together, mumbling a quick apology. The air was cold after a warm day, and only then you realised how late it must be. “My hotels this way,” you pointed, not wanting to take any more of Harry’s time. His strong hand reached out and grabbed yours, tugging you behind him as he stepped in the opposite direction. “Come on,” he grinned. “I know somewhere we can get more coffee.”
You walked through an eerily deserted London, laughing alongside Harry but wondering now what on God’s green earth you were doing. If Harry was anyone else, you’d be running a mile. You glanced down at your feet, unsure why they weren’t taking you home. Your heart-print pyjama pants were just another reminder of where you should be going. But as you doubted yourself, Harry ground to a halt, sending you flying into the back of him. “What are you doing?” You asked, staring up at the skyscraper hotel in front of you. This was definitely nicer than your choice of digs. Harry only smirked in response, walking towards the doors. You followed him blindly, trailing through the entrance and into the lift behind him. He pulled down his hood and ran a hand through his hair, watching himself in the mirror before his eyes flicked to you. Finally, he spoke, “hotels will give you coffee at any hour on any day, I’ve noticed.”
“Are you staying here?,” you questioned, stepping out of the lift straight into what must have been the penthouse suite. Your eyes were wide in awe, you’d never seen a hotel room like this before. A small kitchen sat on one wall, with a living area big enough to seat an entire family. A king size bed peeked out from behind a glass room divider, everything accented with black and gold glossy metals. You ran your fingers across the back of one of the blue sofas, twirling round to take in your surroundings before your eyes rested on Harry’s. He nodded, amused by your wonder. “You’re welcome,” you scoffed, setting your jacket down on the table. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, opening his mouth to question you. Swatting at his chest, you replied, “I paid good money for your shows. You’d be in a travelodge if it wasn’t for me.”
“You and thousands of others!” He interjected, swatting right back at your hand. You giggled, holding your hands up in surrender. “Okay, big man.”
Harry slipped off his hoodie, leaving him in only a sweatshirt and running shorts. You studied him properly for the first time, your eyes running from his tousled hair, to the way his sweatshirt was the perfect amount of baggy, to his toned, tanned thighs. If you weren’t careful you might have dribbled. He’d been the celebrity you’d pined over for years, and now you were standing in his hotel room. “You like what you see?,” he said, snapping you out of your daydream as he padded over to the coffee machine. “You got me here under false pretences, you know that?,” you grinned, plopping down on one of the armchairs. Harry’s head whipped around, mouth wide open in a half smirk. “I promised you coffee,” he gestured to the coffee machine, “here’s coffee.”
“You didn’t tell me the coffee was in your hotel room,” you smirked, before mouthing ‘weirdo’. Harry wagged a pointed finger at you, “ah ah ah. Only nice manners get you caffeine in my cafe.”
Your conversation continued well into the early hours. Tattoos, music, work, life, pets - you had everything and more to talk about. And you seemed to feel bizarrely comfortable around each other. It was almost 4am before you checked the time, and you stood up almost immediately to grab your jacket and leave. “My God, Harry, I should really-“ you tilted your head towards the door, your voice groggy now from talking and laughing for so long. “Stay here tonight,” Harry’s words came out quiet and almost shy. “It’s too late to go back to where you’re staying, I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you out alone at this hour.” He stood up as he spoke, yawning and stretching his arms. “Come on, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”
As he led you towards the bathroom, you realised just how exhausted you were. And his enormous bed did look comfier than anywhere you’d slept in your life. “Harry, I’m really sorry, but do you have a t-shirt or something I can borrow?,” you asked, leaning on the doorframe. He looked you up and down, laughing. “You’re wearing pyjamas already pet.”
“I know! I know. But I went outside in these. Plus my legs get hot when I sleep.” This was true. You loved fluffy pyjama pants as loungewear but you only ever slept in a top and pants, and you couldn’t exactly wear your skimpy vest on its own tonight. Harry shook his head as he chuckled, his unkempt curls bobbing as he did. He yanked a shirt out of his wardrobe and chucked it at you. “Yeah yeah. You just want to tell the world you wore Harry Styles’ shirt.”
“Oh yes,” you rebutted. “Because ‘I slept in Harry Styles’ hotel’ wouldn’t make a good enough story.”
As you came out the bathroom, you resumed your post leaning against the doorframe, watching Harry throw a blanket on the sofa before trying and failing, several times, to stuff his long body on the loveseat. Stifling a laugh, you called out, “Harry, seriously. Not a chance you’re fitting on that sofa. Come to bed.”
As much as he tried to ignore it, you telling Harry to come to bed was far more inviting than he wanted it to be. He felt nuts. After all, you were a fan - a big enough fan that you’d go to all 4 of his Wembley dates. If word ever got out, he’d have hoards of fans outside every hotel waiting to be the next lucky girl. He just couldn’t explain why he was so drawn to you.
“Thank god for that,” Harry sighed, throwing his head back. “I have places to be tomorrow, I need a good sleep.” He whipped the covers bad and climbed in next to you, rubbing his hands over his face. You were thrashing around, trying to find a comfy position. Settling on your side, you tried to scoot as close to the edge as possible to make this slightly less awkward. Neither of you were used to sharing a bed without the promise of ending up tangled around one another.
“Hey,” he spoke quietly now. “What are you wearing tomorrow love?” Pulling you head up to look at him, you giggled sweetly. That pet name could be dangerous for you. “Why do you want to know?,” you questioned. Suddenly, you felt shy about your outfit choice. You were saving your best outfit for the final date, and now you wished you had something flashier to tell him - although, he’d seen you in your cutesiest pyjamas so the damage may have already been done.
“Want to see if I can spot you in the crowd,” he replied, shrugging his bare shoulders under the duvet. You tapped on your nose as you replied, “baby, you don’t need to worry about spotting me. Anyway, what are you wearing?”
Harry copied you and tapped on his nose, before switching off the bedside lamp and calling out a soft ‘goodnight’. You were pinching yourself up and down your arms to make sure you weren’t already dreaming. You couldn’t believe an insomnia stroll turned into Harry Styles’ bed. The Harry Styles’ bed. If only you knew what the rest of the week would hold.
part two
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justadeadreaper · 4 months
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Summoning a spirit and more...
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TW: Animal death, Disembowelment/Gutting, Nearly being SA'ed, Murderer and subsequent death, Demon summoning gone wrong, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.
When your friend had asked you if you wanted to try and summon a Demon you had not expected this. Well, kind of. You had heard of multiple ways to summon Demons from all the media you had consumed which mostly ranged from sacrificing a virgin or by creating a summoning cycle or by just contacting one through an ouija board. You had expected the latter to just be cooped up in the abandoned house that seemed to haunt your friend’s street as you had an ouija board and a few candles littering the floor.
But no.
Your friend had to go all out. And by all out you meant all out. It sent a shiver up your spine to the point you thought that this was not the first time they had done this unlike what they had claimed when they had brought up the idea to you. This all seemed too professional, too thought out. But, what did you really expect? You knew how seriously your friend took shit like this, how much research would be put into things they seemed to enjoy and this seemed to just be another case of that passion acting out in full force.
You stood before the asylum your friend had asked you to meet them at. You pulled out your phone to check if you had the right location and time.
Meet me at the Anneliese Sherman Hill Asylum. Check.
2:50AM don’t be late! Check.
You had actually come a few minutes early to make sure you were there on time for whatever your friend wanted to do, you wanted to be a good friend after all. On the other hand you thought over if this was a good idea. You were in the middle of a forest in front of a ruined and abandoned asylum that you knew junkies would visit to shoot up as it looked like a light breeze would be able to knock it down. What if this was all a prank and your friend had actually tricked you into coming here for no reason? What if they lured you here to see if you would actually come so the whole school could laugh at you?
You were by yourself, you did not want to go in alone because God knows who or what could be in there. You were an easy target after all, any lunatic could grab you and do unthinkable things. Your paranoia made you think of all the missing posters that covered your small towns of young adults like you who had gone missing to never be found or the headline on your local new station of bodies that had turned up dead and raped with their hearts missing. You shuddered. You had known some of those people who had been left as nothing but bodies for people to gawk at and say how you had met such a terrible fate. 
As your thoughts began to overwhelm you and plague you with all the horrid outcomes that could come out of you going through with this you heard a noise from above. It broke you out of your train of thoughts especially when you realised that it was your name.
“Y/N! Hello Earth to dumbass! Anyone there?!” Regan called out as half of their body hung out of a fifth story window.
“Regan? Dude what the fuck! Get your ass back inside before you fall out!” You shouted back up as you watched how they nonchalantly stayed where they were.
“Are you my mom or what?! I’m not gonna fall! I’m perfectly fine!” they called back down to you with an almost song-like tone to their voice.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass! Go back in and come down here so we can get on with this!” you responded as their joy seemed to put you more on edge than anything else.
“Yes mother! Anything you say mother!” Regan grumbled as they went back inside so they could descend down the stairs and come fetch you to go through with your plan.
Insane bitch. But were you not just as insane for going through with this? Who cares? At least they showed up.
It only took a few minutes before Regan opened the door with an obnoxious creak. They saw the sour look etched onto your face and could not help but pout back at you.
“What’s up with you? I thought you were a night owl.” Regan whined.
“An asylum?” you sighed.
“Yeah, so?” Regan answered with just as much sass as you.
“Really? It’s an asylum.” You responded as you pointed at the building behind them as if they were an idiot who did not realise where the two of you were.
“By God! I didn’t notice that earlier! How did I not realise?! I must be an idiot!” They turned around to face the building acting like they had never noticed it before as they dramatically put their hands to their face to make the most over the top shocked face they were able to muster that was still somehow riddled with their usual sarcasm.
“Very funny,” you near enough snarled, which only brought a smirk to be smothered all over their face.
“Oh I know,” Regan responded.
“But seriously? An asylum out of all places?” You asked as you tried to swallow down the fear that had started to build in the pit of your stomach while you began to walk up the stairs to meet Regan at the door.
“Of fucking course! You know that asylums are some of the most haunted places in the world! It’s why they’re always used in horror movies or those shitty YouTube videos about ghost hunting. And since they’re so connected to the afterlife it will only make it so much easier for a Demon to come through.” Regan nodded as they pushed open the door so both of you could come inside. The inside was not any better than the outside, it was far worse than you could have ever imagined. Regan had turned on the torch in their hands and began to point it around what once would have been a reception area which now looked to be a demolition site. Most of the ceiling had fallen down exposing the skeleton that once had stood proud as it kept the asylum up but now was drooping as if it could fall to pieces at any moment. The wall paper had been peeled off most of the walls to lay in piles on the floor as the walls now were coated in a constant dampness that built the perfect playground for black mould to spring to life. The two of you began to climb the stairs, having to dodge certain spots where the wood was too weak from rot or where the rot had already fully eaten through to create holes big enough for two adults to drop through into a black void.
“Yeah they’re so haunted because of all the shit that happened here. I’m just saying if I was brutally tortured and treated like a useless baby as staff act like I’m a fucking idiot all because I had a disability I would haunt the place I died. Would probably try and get my revenge on the staff,” you muttered after you had truly seen the state of what once would have been a thriving business even if it had a gruesome history.
It only took a few minutes of climbing the stairs like an obstacle course to reach the floor that Regan had set up for the two of you to summon the Demon. It was unnerving, the whole place was unnerving but this floor was different, extremely different. All the hairs on your arms to the back of your neck had stood up, your whole body was on edge as all your senses seemed to be heightened that you were able to sense everything. All the dampness you had felt when walking through the other floors seemed to have disappeared completely, replaced by an overwhelming staleness that seemed to burn your nose while your lungs felt as if they were tightening at the staleness that overwhelmed them like it was depriving them of oxygen.
The two of you continued your walk as you went deeper into the floor. The hallways were covered in graffiti ranging from phrases to names to dicks with the latter covering most of the walls as they were most likely made by the immature teens from the local highschools that had come here to ditch school and get high or had come to the asylum for fear tests to see if they were cool enough to be part of the group with whatever group had sent them in there. You had continued to walk until you reached another large door that Regan pulled open with a huff to reveal the room they had set up.
It must have originally been a social room that had been turned into a restraintment room when the asylum became overwhelmed with too many patients. Chairs, tables, medical beds, restraints, toys, anything you could think of had been piled into the room but it did not have the former glory it once had once had decades ago. All had slowly rotted away with time with the rest of this damned pace but that did not matter to you, neither did the shattered windows that leaked in some of the cool night air and moonlight as its glass decorated the floor. The only thing that mattered was how Regan had set up the room.
For you to see there were candles scattered all over the floor and on certain pieces of the furniture in either bundles of three or seven. Most were burnt around halfway down as the wax trickled to the ground, melting into the cracks of the floor as if they were filling them in. Set up on an old medical table was an altar that had a black cat tied to it as it was connected by a simple chalk line to a summoning circle that spanned over most of the floor as an ouija board laid directly in the middle of it all. It was all too much, you knew that if you were in a horror movie that you would be the first to be taken out by whatever entity had decided to go on a killing spree that day. This looked like it was directly out of a horror movie and you did not want to be part of it. You wanted to immediately turn around and run away but something was stopping you, like a dark force beyond your comprehension had taken control and forced you to stay there and continue like this was a normal everyday thing.
The two of you slowly walked over to the board and sat around it, one of you on each side. Slowly you both put your fingers on the planchette and began moving it to spell out both of your names. First Regan’s and then yours.
“Anyone here with us?” Regan asked.
Ding, ding, ding.
The old church bells rang out, far in the distance from the safety of the town to officially announce that it was finally 3AM, the witching hour. The pit in your stomach seemed to grow to the size of a blackhole as you prayed that nothing would happen as you had wished you had brought some holy water from the church. 
The planchette moved.
Yes.
“How many are there?” Regan asked another question as you preferred to stay silent. The planchette continued to move as it slid towards a number.
One.
“What are you?” you asked as you hoped it was just a tortured spirit.
The planchette rapidly moved from letter to letter to spell out the word you dreaded.
Demon. Regan only smiled as you let out a breath you had never realised that you had been holding.
“Do you want us to free you?” Regan asked.
The planchette moved once more.
Yes.
“What will you give us in return?” Regan questioned.
The planchette moved for one last time.
Anything you wish.
Regan then got up and walked over to the altar. They reached over somewhere and pulled out a knife that you had not noticed earlier.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you asked Regan as they lifted the knife above their head.
“It needs a blood sacrifice to come through,” Regan answered.
“That’s a living fucking cat you can’t fucking do that!” You shouted back as you got up to stop them.
But you stopped in your tracks once you saw the look on their face once they turned to face you. Eyes once warm and full of life were now filled with this cold uncaringness that froze you still as it chilled your spine. Regan was normally so nice and loving but this was something different. This was not the Regan you knew. For a brief moment you thought that they were the Demon instead of the thing they were trying to summon.
“Don’t worry, I got her from a local shelter. Poor thing was in a coma, so they were gonna put her down anyway. I’m just doing it so at least her life could be useful in one way,” Regan shrugged coldly which only sent another shiver down your spine.
Although you were not able to fully process their words before they drove the knife right through the innocent cat’s body again and again and again. Blood splattered onto them in a bloody fountain while some leaked out from beneath the cat and dripped down over the edge of the metal bed as it collected in a puddle before spreading out and hitting the chalk that made up the summoning circle. The blood by some supernatural force started to multiply and flood the chalk with the crimson liquid before it came to life with a sudden burst of flames that knocked you to the ground with a thud.
Your head hit the floor and everything seemed to blur as you let out a pathetic groan. Even with the blur you could see the flames as they spread around the room causing everything flammable to catch alight to be turned to ash by its gluttonous hunger. You had started to accept your fate of being engulfed by the flames as all your body felt like it was being weighed down by a thousand suns making it impossible to scream. That was until you heard that glass shattering scream followed by a maniac laughter that echoed around the room. You just had to look up, how could you not?
Your eyes strained to try and figure out the shape hunched over the altar as your whole body screamed out not too as you began to force yourself to sit up. It only took a few moments before you saw it.
It was a disgusting thing you had never seen the likes of before. A ghastly mass of muscles and eyes that shambled in its movements, the only thing keeping it together were the scales scattered over the exposed flesh that glistened in the flames by the mucus that coated the veins that pulsed alive with the demonic blood that spewed through them. It made you sick. Especially when you saw the seven long, obsidian claws that were driven right through your (now ex) friend’s chest, blood gurgling out of their mouth with bubbles as it spilt onto the floor.
That thing unrolled a tumorous tongue from its skewered maul that was made up of eyes upon eyes piled onto flesh, exposing the rows upon rows that covered the inside of the dog-like jaw. The thing pulled it upwards, licking up all the blood with a guttural groan as if such a thing gave it a sickening pleasure.
“Thank you for summoning me, finally don’t have to use an avatar to have my fun now,” it told you with a sadistic smile on its face, it did not need to even move its mouth for its words to come out, you could still hear its raspy voice anyway.
It turned its head back to your friend and used its claws to carve its way down your friend's chest before pulling back their skin to expose their wet inside to the smokey air. First it took their intestines out and wrapped it around their horns which spiralled upwards as if they had once been joined together to make a circle. Then it pulled out Regan’s heart and chucked it into its mouth and chewed on it for a few seconds before spitting it out in disgust.
“Ugh, disgusting... impure..." It growled before turning to you.
It turned its claws downwards and slowly let Regan drop off like they were a toy that had unsatisfied it as it let their body crumple with a thud. It slowly began to crawl to you as it spoke again with that haunting voice that seemed to fill your body.
“I’ll have fun with them later but how about I try a pretty thing like you out first?” it asked mockingly as if it was trying to toy with you in what should have been your last moments.
You tried to desperately crawl away but your body was too weak from the floor to move to save yourself from whatever it wanted. You wanted to scream and shout to try and get someone to notice you so they could save you from your gruesome fate that played out in front of you. But your voice seemed to have vanished, replaced by the burning in your lungs that was caused by the smoke that seemed to fill the room as the oxygen was quickly used up.
Admittedly you sometimes wanted to die when life became too much and the voices seemed to drown out any rational thought but you had never planned to die like this at the hands of that beast. You kept trying to squirm away until it pounced onto your back, pinning you to the floor with an excruciating weight that stopped all of your movements as the little breath you had left was knocked out of you. You wanted to kick yourself free and beat the shit out of this sick fuck but your body had decided otherwise. In all honesty you began to give up especially when you felt its drool and breath run over your neck as it thrusted against your thigh. Tears started to swell up in your eyes as you wanted them to stay put but stream down all at the same time as that sick fuck began to laugh.
Then nothing.
It seemed to stop laughing or moving or even moving. Its weight then fell on you with full force keeping you pinned more than you thought it could before. Then you began to feel wet. Wet all over. As if a warm liquid had been spilt all over you. Then suddenly all the weight seemed to be pulled away as you finally seemed to be able to breathe a true breath even if it was filled with smoke.
You could not understand why it had suddenly stopped. Maybe it thought about how atrocious it was acting? Impossible. So you decided to turn around even if instincts were telling you not to and instead run.
As soon as you turned around you wanted to scream at what you saw. Laying in front of you was a dead Demon laying in a pool of black blood that had soaked into your clothes and behind it, oh God what the fuck was behind it. It looked like a man but it was too tall as four wings sprouted from its back while horns sprouted from its head much like the Demon it had killed but these ones were joined together to create a circle that emitted a light. From beneath the robes, chains, and bones that obscured its body you could see some clearly defined muscles riddled with scars that would have made you slightly blush if you were not thinking about the long metal blade it was pointing towards you as murderous eyes hid behind a skull of a more humanoid demon.
You coward in fear thinking it would kill you like it had done in fear. You whimpered as you pulled your body into itself in a pathetic display and it seemed to... hesitate? You reopened your eyes to look at it as its eyes seemed to be filled by something but you could truly not tell what. It looked away as if thinking for a minute before turning back to you as it lowered his sword.
“C’mon..." it said in a gravelly voice that seemed British as you first heard it.
You did what it said as you felt like you had no other choice as it could clearly kill you. You slowly got up with wobbling legs as you walked over to it to take the bandage hand it had offered. As you took its hand a beam of light came through the roof and not a second later you felt yourself being pulled up with great strength. You screamed as you felt yourself being pulled tight against its chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around the creature as you could feel the toned abs beneath the robes causing a blush to lightly dust your cheeks.
Below you saw the asylum as it burnt away to cinders with the body of Rean, the poor cat, and the Demon inside. Then you turned to see the being that had saved you once more as it continued to fly upwards. That was when you realised what it was. An Angel.
People joked about how Angels actually looked terrifying and that was why they said ‘Do not be afraid.’ when they first saw humans. When looking at the one that held you tightly you understood perfectly as to why. But for now you felt safe as you realised that it was most likely taking you to Heaven.
This was probably not the ending you had thought of when you had agreed to summon a Demon but maybe being saved by this Angel was actually the best choice at the moment.
Taglist: @diejager @frogchiro
So, hi. Sorry, I have not posted in a few days as I have been busy with family. I still can not believe that this is my last post of 2023 since I still can not believe it is the end of the year as it does not feel like it. So yay to a breakdown over the passage of time. To be fair I am not fully happy with it so I may come back and edit it in the future. I just want to say a quick thank you for all the support as I honestly did not expect anyone to enjoy my writing, I hope all your New Year's resolutions come true. Hopefully, I can post more in the coming year as I am planning for more AUs and hopefully a full rewrite of COD MW with some extras. If you guys like this fanfic I will try to post more fanfics and maybe make this summoning fic a series of Ghost taking care of reader and hiding them in Heaven. Or I will try to post some mini-fics depending on what people want so if anyone has any ideas just put them in my askbox and I will try to write a fic on it, even smut. And I may post some headcanons of the characters. Also if you want to be tagged in anything just say as I am trying to organise everything so we can have smooth sailing in the future. But I hope you liked this as I have not wrote a fanfic in a good while. But Happy New Year's Eve and Happy New Year!!!!
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alexa-fika · 4 months
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Lost ways, found preferences (Smoker x gn!reader)
A/N: First romantic piece to be published! Not sure about it. I tried to make it appealing, but I think the kiss scene is not it; let me know what you guys think
Dividers by @saradika
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He glares at the person before him as he sits in his office. His significant other sits in front of him, legs tucked below them and hands fidgeting in their lap. Taking a drag from his cigars to prepare for the aggravating questioning that was sure to follow.
“Where were you? “
“I got lost?”
“I specifically told you to find my office, and you got lost?”
“W-well, your instructions were vague!”
“I literally told you to take this route and walk straight; it’s a straight line, not to mention you have come many times before. How the hell did you get lost?”
They laugh nervously as their boyfriend calls them out on the holes in their story.
“I have a bad sense of direction…”
His eyes narrow
“It’s not that hard to get from one place to another, especially with my extremely clear instructions and your previous experiences on visiting; the point is, why weren’t you where I told you? Where the hell were you anyway? “
“…”
“Don’t give me the silent treatment; where the hell were you? “
They look away, fidgeting.
“Nowhere…”
He takes a deep puff from his cigars.
“Did you meet someone? “
They wince
“No.” They squeak out
“Reader.” He growls in a warning tone
They shake their head.
“Din’t met anyone!” They say in a high pitch tone as they stand
“Oh, look at the time! Man, time flies when you are with people you love! Well, I won’t hold you any longer, Smoky!” They say quickly, heading for the door
He glares at them and mutters under his breath.
“So this is how you’re going to play this?”
They squeal as they feel the familiar smoke envelop them as their boyfriend quickly appears behind them, tightly holding them.
They pout, looking up.
“That’s not fair; you know I don’t have a devil fruit.”
He smirks as he gives them a slight peck on the lips.
“I know that’s what makes it so easy; now, who did you meet?”
They bit their cheeks, trying to think of their options.
“you can’t hide it from me; you’re a terrible liar.
Who did you meet?” he grunts out.
“I went to see my brother,” they mutter.
“Your brother?” he raises an eyebrow.
“And why exactly would you go see your brother without asking me first?”
They raise an eyebrow at him.
“You mean why I didn’t ask you, a marine if I could visit my brother, a pirate? You know I can’t just choose between you, the love of my life, and Luffy, my brother who has been with me all my life.”
He exhales the smoke from his cigar in what appears to be a sigh.
“I know; I’m not asking you to; you were gone for a long time.”
“Awe, was Smoky worried?” They tease
They grunt
“The damn Strawhat’s has got you saying that stupid nickname.”
They laugh
“Awe it’s an endearing nickname, fits you perfectly; you’re a softy underneath all the smoke and that grumpy face.”
“You’re insufferable, do you know that?” he groans.
“Yet here we are; I must not be so insufferable, seeing as you are dating me.”
He simply narrows his eyes at them.
“Don’t flatter yourself; I’m just barely tolerating you.”
“H-Hey! Don’t be mean!”
“Being mean is the only way I can deal with your obnoxious attitude.”
They roll their eyes, quickly snatching their cigars and taking a drag themselves, only to drop them immediately, sputtering.
“Good Lord Smoky, those are awful; how in God’s name can you stand using those all the time?!”
He laughs
“Sorry, Darling, I guess you just don’t have what it takes.”
They simply shove him, scoffing as he merely chuckles at the action, not moving from the embrace.
He quickly turns them around so that they face each other, his lips enveloping theirs in a swift movement.
They break the kids momentarily, and they say breathlessly.
“I think I changed my mind.”
“Changed your mind about what exactly?” he asks, leaning in to kiss their neck
“They aren’t so awful; I quite like the flavor, actually,” they say as they quickly pull him in for another one, the smoke from his cigars giving them a tingling feeling on the back of their throat, too addicting to let go.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
His hands start to slide down the length of their back.
“Good to know.”
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I wanted to. mix up my content a little, but idk; maybe if people ask for them, I'll try again, but I think for now, child! reader is my thing
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callsignmercy · 1 year
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No fear - Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky.
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Prompt: Tom Kazansky has no fear. But maybe almost losing you can change that.
Words: ~3k
Warning: Iceman being a dick, crying, near death experience, language? Happy ending, fluff, Charlie being nice.
Note: Happy 100 followers to me! Thanks you everyone. Here’s an Iceman fic for you! Still having a writer’s block but hopefully I can get rid of it soon. Highly unedited. English is not my first language. Sorry for the easy vocabulary and bad grammar. Please do not republish translate or do whatever to my work.
Y/C/S: your call sign
Your RIO’s name and callsign: Jack/Sunset.
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Lieutenant Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky has no fear. He flies fast, with precision and never misses the target. As they say, ice cold, no mistake. And you resent him with every fibre of your being.
He’s so obnoxious and arrogant, always sure of himself. Everything that you are not. You’re cute and nice and kind and you wish you could show that side of your personality but in the field you’re in it’s impossible. Unless you want to be stepped on. You’re a woman, which doesn’t help your case in the first place, but being nice on top of it? No way. So you fake a mean attitude all the time, as well as a confident personality and you try to not take shit from anyone.
It’s hard but you manage.
The Top Gun class of ‘86 welcomed a woman for the first time in history and you wanted to make women all over the USA proud of it. You had fierce opponents like Maverick and Iceman but you wanted to prove them all that you were fit for the task.
They had all pretty much tried to flirt with you since the beginning of the week but you didn’t pay them any mind, not wanting to be affiliated with any of them. People might think that you were trying to get points by flirting with the others and you didn’t want any of that, so you stayed away from them.
The only one that didn’t come after you was Iceman. You didn’t really know why considering his RIO even asked you out, but you were grateful that at least one of them had a little decency.
He was polite and said hello to you whenever you passed each other in the halls and smiled at you but nothing more.
During a night out at the bar that you were mainly spending alone as your own RIO had decided he was gonna try his luck with one of the girls there.
Sitting at the bar you were nursing your cocktail, paying no mind to anyone, trying to have a little fun but not really succeeding in the task. The sound was too loud for your liking and the bar was packed. You couldn’t turn without bumping into someone. You really hated this kind of atmosphere but you played the part, not wanting to be considered dull for not enjoying yourself.
Your RIO kind of forced you to come, so you had to fake having fun but you would rather be in your room, reading a book or watching a movie right now.
Iceman noticed you sitting alone at the bar and walked up to you. “Having fun round here?” He asked. “Best time of my life.” You said sarcastically. “I can see that. Why are you sitting here alone?” “I don’t feel like talking to anyone or just being here altogether but Sunset kinda forced me to come, so here I am.” “You don’t like parties?” “No, I do, it’s just that it’s too packed and too loud for my liking and I don’t have any friends other than Jack and he just left to go see some girl so I’m on my own.” You answered.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, which surprised you. “I wouldn’t want to make you miss the party or the opportunity to get home with a girl. I can stay on my own, don't worry. You should go back out there.” “It’s alright I don’t feel like it tonight, do you want to go get some food?” “Really?” “Yeah.” He smiled. “Alright.” You bit your lip. “Let me just go tell my RIO and I’ll meet you at the door.”
He nodded and you went to see Jack to tell him you were leaving. A few minutes later you met Tom at the door and you walked the few metres that separated you from the diner.
You spent the evening talking and laughing with Tom. It felt easy and nice to be able to talk with someone other than your RIO. You didn’t feel like he was trying to flirt with you which felt nice for a change.
After a few hours you both went back to base and he bid you goodnight before going back to his own dorm room.
You went to sleep that night with a smile on your face and the feeling that you had made a new friend and didn’t feel so lonely anymore.
As you headed to class the next morning you harboured a soft smile on your face which differed from the hard look you usually had. When you entered the classroom all the guys were already here smirking at you. Your smile disappeared as you felt this couldn’t be a good omen.
You decided to sit down next to your RIO, as usual, without paying any mind to any of them but they kept smirking and shaking their heads.
“What’s happening?” You whispered to Jack. “Apparently you slept with Iceman last night.” He murmured. “Excuse me?” You said, louder than expected.
You turned your head to Iceman. “Care to explain?” You asked him with a cold tone. “It’s okay sweetheart. I asked where he went last night and he told me he left with you and he didn’t deny when I asked him if you fucked so…” Slider answered for him. “Why are you lying to them? You know nothing happened between us.” You exclaimed, still looking at Tom, ignoring the others. He shrugged, unphased and you scoffed, shaking your head before facing the board in front of you as Charlie came through the door.
You tried to focus on the course Charlie was teaching but knowing that nobody respected you anymore because of a simple lie was destroying you inside.
You knew people would assume you really did it, and that you did it to get in Ice’s good favour and score more points like this. And on top of everything, you knew that if it were to be known by any superiors, you might be dismissed and removed from the program for it, ultimately penalising your RIO as well. The image of women in the navy and in any army corps would be worsened and they wouldn’t be taken seriously anymore as everyone would assume they were all like you.
You almost cried in the middle of the classroom that day, thinking about what you had done. Which, in the end was, well…nothing. And yet, men won again.
So that day you decided that for the remaining of the thirteen weeks of the program, you wouldn’t talk to any of them, unless absolutely necessary, and keep any communication to the bare minimum.
And you had never felt so lonely in your life.
You weren’t the nice, kind and cute woman you were before entering Top Gun, or the stern, emotionless woman you appeared to be at the beginning of the program. Now you were just plain empty. Neutral face on, at all times, no more smiles, no more charisma, no more hellos and goodbyes to your comrades. You didn’t speak a word to them anymore, you didn’t smile at them, didn’t participate in class, nor volunteered for anything. Everything felt dull.
Jack, your RIO felt it too, even though you still spoke to him, he felt like you weren’t your usual self. He knew the real you, the cute and kind you, the always nice and polite you but now this part of you was gone.
“Are you alright?” Charlie asked you one day at the end of a class as the last of your comrades walked out the door. You put on a fake smile and nodded. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I can see something is wrong. Also Maverick told me.” She admitted. Your smile faded as she spoke the last words. “Then you already know the answer.” “You know, they’re still boys in their head, they don’t understand that we feel emotions differently than them and they don’t know how such lies can affect our lives. They believe it’s pointless, that nobody will pay any mind to it but they’re wrong. Maverick and Goose know it, if it can make you feel better. They know you didn’t do anything and it was just a lie. They feel sad because you don’t talk to them anymore, they really enjoyed your company the first few days before it happened. They told me that you were really nice and that they enjoyed talking with you and Sunset.” You gave her a small crooked smile before thanking her and leaving as well.
At the end of the thirteen weeks Iceman and Slider won Top Gun with you and Sunset coming second. You didn’t really mind that they won, you managed to make some people proud and you hoped women would be more considered now that you had proven you were capable.
Everyone was having a really nice time at the party. You were conversing with Jack when you saw Iceman approaching you both. You turned your back to him, still not ready to face him nor talk to him. You knew he wasn’t going to apologise for anything.
You didn’t see it, but his expression saddened when he saw you turn your back to him. Jack saw it too and understood your move. He got up to approach Iceman in order for him not to get too close to you. “I just wanted to say congratulations to you both.” Iceman said. “You did a really great job together.” “Thanks man, we really appreciate it.” Jack answered, shaking Tom’s hand.
Iceman’s eyes wandered above your RIO’s shoulder, seeing you were still ignoring him. He smiled at Sunset again and left with a small sigh.
“Thanks for this.” You told your RIO. “I’ve always got you, you know that.” You gave him a small smile. “Why do you still not want to talk to him? It’s been like twelve weeks.” “You don’t understand the power a small lie like that holds. It can literally ruin my career.” “How so?” He asked kindly. “Well first of all, he lied to everyone, it’s something everyone believed I did, and after that everyone was going to think that I slept with him to get an advantage on the ranking. Second of all, if it were to be known by any of our superiors I could have been sent back to our squadron, and you would have too, because we’re a team here. Ultimately losing any opportunity we had to finish Top Gun and humiliating every woman in the navy because I couldn’t keep it in my pants so every man would assume we were all like that and not give us chances anymore.” “Wow, I didn’t really think about all that.” He said, stunned. “Yeah, well now it’s done so let’s just go back to our lives and hopefully not see any of them again.”
Your hopes were cut short as you were immediately called for a secret mission along with Maverick and Goose and obviously Iceman and Slider.
As you were getting ready to go on the mission the next day, Iceman came up to you. “Hey, can we talk?” You jumped at the sound of his voice. “Jesus, give a girl a warning.” You replied coldly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to apologise.” “Okay, but I do not forgive you.” His expression dropped at your words. “Understandable.” Your face remained stoic while looking at him. “I don’t know why I did what I did, that was really stupid of me.” As you didn’t reply he kept going. “I really liked you, still do actually. And I realised how stupid of me it was to have lied like that.” “Then why did you do it?” “Honestly I don’t know, it was just supposed to be a joke and then Slider told everyone and it escalated and I’m sorry.” “You know I really liked spending that evening with you, I thought we were friends and then you screwed me over for no reason.”
“I know I’m sorry.” He replied, head low. “I wanted to ask you out on a real date.” “Well it’s too late now isn’t it? You’ve wasted every chance you had. And you know what? I think I would’ve said yes, because you were the only one that didn’t hit on me and the only one with whom I felt truly happy being with. But you’ve wasted this. And maybe I could’ve been happy right now, instead of being sad.” You say gripping your bag and walking out the door.
A few days later you were risking your life along with your RIO, and four of your Top Gun comrades trying to shoot down enemy MIGs. Maverick managed to shoot down three of them but one was following you and you didn’t seem to be able to lose him.
That’s when you felt it. Bullets shot through your F14 and you started losing altitude. Being unable to control your plane you quickly got closer to the ground. “Eject Y/C/S! Eject! Eject!” You heard Iceman scream through your helmet. Panic came over you as you were trying to recover your plane and not kill yourself and your RIO in the process. “For the love of God Y/C/S eject!” He shouted and you almost felt like you heard his voice break.
As Iceman saw your plane get closer and closer to the ground his eyes welled with tears. “Y/N!” He couldn’t help but scream. And as you nearly crashed on the ground you managed to restart your aircraft and shoot up to the sky. A sigh of relief could be heard from everyone through your helmet. “Why the hell didn’t you eject Y/C/S? You and Sunset could have died!” Maverick was the first to speak. “I went through something like that before, I knew I could escape and save my plane.” You replied. Iceman didn’t say a word, he was traumatised. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to you and how he would have coped with it. It was all too much for him.
You managed to shoot down an enemy plane after that and complete the mission. The three aircrafts landed on the carrier. You didn’t want to think about what could have happened up there so you got down your plane quickly, followed by your RIO. “I’m sorry I put your life in danger, I shouldn’t have done that.” “It’s alright, I knew you’d either save the plane or we’d have to eject. I was waiting for your instructions, I trust you with my life.” You give him a soft smile and head to the office to debrief the mission.
On the other side of the carrier Iceman is stuck in his plane, not being able to move. Slider gets up from his seat and looks at his pilot. “Hey, you alright man?” Iceman’s head shoots up. “Yeah, uhm yeah, I’ll meet you inside.” He replies.
It took him a few more minutes and a mechanic to get him down from his plane. “You okay Lieutenant?” The mechanic asked. “Uhm, yeah sorry.” Tom replied and got up from his seat.
He headed towards the conference room walking at a slow pace, trying not to think about you. As he got up the stairs and opened the door to enter the premises he was surprised to see you sat down behind it. You were hugging your knees, holding your helmet and tears made their way up your eyes but didn’t seem to go down your face yet. You quickly wiped your face when you heard the door open and hurried to get up on your feet. Only to see that it was Iceman standing in front of you.
He looked at you for a few seconds before speaking. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?” He said quietly, hurt evident in his voice. You looked down. “Is it going to become a habit? Breaking each other’s hearts like that?” He said and your head shoots up to look at him. “I could have lost you today and I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened. Because now I can still pretend you’re going to forgive me for what I did and I still have a chance to be with you but if you had died then there would be nothing giving me hope anymore.” “Do you really believe what you said?” “Of course I do. I would never be able to apologise enough for what I did but I hope one day you can forgive me and my stupidity and actually go on a date with me.” He said hopefully.
You take a look to your right and left to see if anyone was there and grab Tom’s collar and pull him to you, crashing your lips on his. He was surprised for a second but quickly returned the kiss and pushed you softly behind an electrical panel so no one could see you. You break the kiss, gasping for air and smiling like a high school girl kissing her crush. He smiles back and kisses you again.
Now Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky only has one fear, the fear of losing you. But the joy of loving you is stronger than anything.
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emmyrosee · 2 years
Text
Idk… I’m in like. A big Suna mood, friends
He’s just such a chaotic good, such an absolute loser, and how anyone thinks he’s more than someone who willingly, and for fun, plops down on the couch with uncooked instant noodles with the packet and eats them straight is beyond me.
The worlds most obnoxious snuggle bug, latches himself onto you when he’s tired and will not let you go. He’s adorable, of course he is, but to say he’s not the bane of your existence would also be an absolute lie, and makes using the bathroom sometimes infinitely more difficult than it needs to be.
(“Rin, I have to pee-“
“Pee the bed.”
“Absolutely not, if you’d just give me three minutes of my own personal space-“
“No. We’ve been together for four years. Your personal space is my personal space.”)
Sometimes, if he has the energy, he’ll let you go but literally seconds later, you hear padding feet outside of the door, a small poomf on the floor, and when you’re finished washing your hands, you’re greeted with the sight of Rin on the floor, scrolling through tiktok. “Seriously?” “You missed a really funny one.”
Every now and again, him being such a pain in the ass causes you to get into little fights, little spats here and there, and when you get into these fights it’s not impossible to have them turn into little ridiculous digs that you both know are things you love about each other, but are just ammunition for a petty disagreement.
(“You’re just mad that my hairline isn’t receding!”
“Oh yeah? At least I don’t dip my chicken nuggets into my milkshakes!”)
Sometimes, when he’s out of things to say (or he’s just in the wrong and he wants the fight to stop) he says very out of pocket things to throw you off.
(“I think you’re just jealous!”
“Of what?” You scoff.
“That I can juggle, and you can’t.”
“…..what?”) It’s an easy way to break up the ‘fight’ and have you giggling at him once again.
Sometimes, you come home, and something is very, very off. You cock your brow, you put down your keys and shrug off your coat, and with a call of his name, he quickly calls back “I love you!”
“Rin what did you do?” And after a few beats of silence, this man has the audacity, the gall, to round the corner with an animal in his arms, and the worlds most swollen eyes and red cheeks, and your jaw slacks. “Rin.”
(“It’s a baby! We have to keep her!”
“You’re deathly allergic to dander.”
“But it’s a baby.”)
This happens at least twice a month. Quickly prompted by a stop at the shelter so the animal can be put for adoption and rescued, and then a stop at the hospital for anaphylactic shock.
WILL, and I mean WILL, put off any gosh damn task you ask him to do; dishes, laundry, cooking, dusting, the only thing he does without argument is trash because once, he actually forgot to do it, and it was a wonderful time trying to get rid of the smell in your kitchen.
But otherwise, he waits until you offer to do it, and he shrugs and says “let’s just do it together.” And it’s so cute he wants to do things with you, and that’s the only reason you don’t leave him for it.
He knows all of your tells for anything you may be feeling- emotional or physical. He knows when you’re nervous, you fiddle with your fingers and dig at your cuticles, so he gets you some rings to fidget with. He knows you’re about to be sick when your eyes look heavy and you are extra, extra cuddly.
(“Don’t puke on me, let me get a bucket.”
“I’m not gonna puke.”
“And I don’t believe you, now stay.”
And you elbow him extra hard when he’s got the cockiest smirk while rubbing your back.)
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callsign-joyride · 1 year
Text
Same 'Ol Situation | B.R.B
Summary: Noisy roommates are the reason that you call Bradley in the middle of the night for help.
Content warnings: Shitty roommates, reader overworks herself, angst to comfort, mentions of sex, college AU
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader (college AU)
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: My laptop is about to die as I'm writing this but this is a very self-indulgent fic. It sat in my drafts as "frat boy Bradley" until like an hour ago when I was finally able to name it after a song like I always do.
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Time always seemed to go by differently when you were studying. It was your last year of undergrad, and burnout still hadn’t really hit you. The psychology major was hard with all of the papers and labs, but you managed. Well, you at least tried to. One of your assignments was to listen to a podcast about psychology and write a paper about it. It didn’t sound too difficult, but you couldn’t focus to save your life. It was nearing two in the morning and even with your earbuds in, you could hear your roommates partying in the living room. It aggravated you to no end. All you wanted to do was finish the podcast and the note-taking so that you could go to bed. Things had been so stressful that you were barely able to sleep, and you wouldn’t tell anyone about it. No one really seemed concerned. 
After sending multiple texts to the group chat, you finally gave up and broke down in tears. The only thing that your roommates said was that you could leave any time you wanted to. Bradley had told you when you started officially dating that you could go over to his frat house any time, and it was something that you really considered. But it was late, you didn’t have your car on campus, and the walk to fraternity row was about twenty minutes.
You were not about to make that walk with your belongings in the dark, alone. Calling campus security had been an option, you did it probably a thousand times freshman year when you took night classes and didn’t feel safe walking alone. It felt stupid to call campus security to have an officer escort you to fraternity row. They usually did the opposite. Plus, you didn’t even know if Bradley was awake. But still, it wouldn’t hurt to at least try and call him. You were surprised when he answered on the second ring.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
“Hey,” you said through tears. As soon as he heard the tone of your voice, he sat up in his bed and checked the time.
“Is everything okay? Did you have a nightmare?”
“I’m living one, actually. I haven’t really slept these past few days and I can’t study. My roommates are being obnoxious and I have fieldwork in two days. They told me that I can leave any time but of course, they tell me that the week that I don’t have a car.”
“Okay, relax. I can come and pick you up if you want. Let me talk to the guys and I’m sure they’ll understand. I’ll text you when I get there.”
“Okay. Did I wake you up?” You sounded like you were feeling better, but Bradley knew that he was walking on thin ice. Even though it took a lot to make you mad, you tended to stay mad for a while. 
“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna go, but I’ll text you.”
You gathered your things before sitting on your bed. He texted you twenty minutes later that he was in the parking lot and even asked if you wanted him to come inside the building. Absolutely not, you texted, I don’t want you involved more than you already are.
“Where are you going?” One of your roommates asked as you walked to the door.
“Somewhere where you’re not. I’ll be back eventually.”
You almost burst into tears as you got into Bradley’s Bronco. The drive to the house was quiet, and you were surprised that there weren’t really any parties going on. You had really lucked out when you started dating Bradley. Of course, you were well aware that he was a frat boy, the two of you met at one of the parties that his fraternity was throwing. The good part about all of it was that his fraternity didn’t really throw parties that often, and everyone there was pretty serious about academics. The house was pretty quiet when the two of you walked in. Bob greeted you when you walked by his room, but you were mostly determined to get to Bradley’s room and go to bed.
“I have to finish listening to this podcast and then I’ll sleep,” you said as you plugged in your laptop.
“When’s the paper due?” Bradley asked.
“Two weeks, but I want to at least have the notes done now so that I don’t have to worry about it.”
There it was. Bradley looked at you like you were insane. 
“You’re not doing that. Not tonight, at least. Babe, it’s almost two in the morning. You need to sleep. I understand that you want to get this done, but energy drinks and hot Cheetos can only get you so far for so long.”
You finally gave in.
“I guess you’re right. But listen, I have my history class at ten tomorrow.”
“You’re sleeping in. Email the professor, text your classmates. You’ve got good grades. I don’t think missing one class will kill you.”
“Okay.”
You put your laptop away and grabbed pajamas that you had left the last time you slept over. It wasn’t really a surprise that there weren’t any more texts to the group chat. It was the first night in forever that you were able to sleep without earbuds in. You ended up sleeping until noon, which surprised the hell out of everyone. Bradley’s class got canceled so he was able to drive you to your fieldwork. 
“I don’t know if I can stay at that apartment anymore,” you said as the two of you got in the Bronco.
“Then don’t. I know you’re paying to live there and all, but something’s got to give. You can stay with me and the guys. I’m sure it would be better for you, anyways, being around people that you actually like and all.”
“Yeah, but I can’t move all of my stuff into your room.”
“Okay, so take what you need so that you don’t have to be there all the time. Just like a few day's worth of stuff, y’know?”
“Yeah, okay. Honestly, I’m more mad than anything that they decided to say that to me the week that I don’t have a car. Maybe if it wasn’t so late, I really would have gotten up and left. But it’s like they have no respect. Which they don’t. You’ve met them and they were horrible to you for no reason. I get it, everyone has bad days, but there’s a reason that you’ve never spent the night at the apartment.”
“I know. We’re getting it figured out, though. I’ll pick you up when you’re done at four, right?”
You nodded your head and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of the Bronco and going in. Surprisingly, you managed to make it through your fieldwork without bursting into tears. When Bradley picked you up, you told him to take you to your apartment so that you could get some stuff. Despite your protests, he went in with you. (“For your safety,” he said.) You could only smile and let it happen. He even offered to carry some of your bags for you.
“Why are you leaving?” One of your roommates asked. You looked at her and smiled.
“To stay with Bradley. Y’know, because you wouldn’t stop with the parties and noise making. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here but I’m trying to get good grades and get my degree.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you can just do that. There’s a reason they don’t do co-ed housing.”
“Actually, I think I can ‘just do that’. No one ever said anything when I spent the night over there because I was getting laid. I’ll see you when I see you. Don’t text me. Respectfully.”
You and Bradley made it to the Bronco before busting out in laughter. There was something so satisfying about finally being able to put your roommates in their place. 
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Taglist:
@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha
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freelanceexorcist · 1 month
Text
I tagged one of my moots, but is it OK if I complete this myself? No? Too bad, I did.
FFVII spoilers and absolutely obnoxious length under the cut.
Character: Sephiroth, Compilation of FFVII and FFVII Remake trilogy
Do you project onto this character?
Not that I’m aware of.
2. Did you always like this character?
I discovered FFVII not long after Crisis Core came out, so I was late to the party. I was more into his aesthetic at first, but after taking in CC, I really went off over the complexity of the character. Back then, a lot of Big Bads in the media I consumed were straightforward villain types who were just there to menace everyone and be defeated at the end without much development. He was among the first antagonists I encountered who deployed the duality of being a bad, bad man who used to be a good one until he crossed a line he couldn’t easily come back from.
3. What first drew you to this character?
Not gonna lie, it was how he looked at first.
4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?
No.
5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?
I think I would. I like well-rounded and complex characters. One of my other favorite characters is June Osborne from The Handmaid’s Tale (show canon). She’s a good person deep down and is nurturing to those who need her help, but when it comes to Gilead and its architects, she is ruthless to the point of being terrifying at times. She started out as someone who just wanted to go along to get along, both before and after the fall of the US, and life turned her into a badass.
6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?
I distinguish between the two apparently separate versions in the Remake trilogy as Glenniroth and Jenovaroth. Does that count? I also refer to teenage Sephiroth as Baby Seph.
7. Does the character’s age matter to you?
No.
8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?
Absolutely. How can it not? He’s absurdly beautiful.
9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?
Not really. I’ll have to think about that.
10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?
I’m nowhere near that awesome.
11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?
Same way you fall in love in real life. You see someone and you’re like “damn.” Then you get to know them better and you’re theirs for life.
12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?
As a matter of fact, I have an AU fic in the planning stages that works on the premise that he is removed from the library before he snaps but not before learning a thing or two about his past that really pisses him off. Vincent will be involved in this, but I’m not sure how yet. Because he doesn’t snap and burn Nibelheim, Shinra does it for him.
Professor Hojo’s plan all along was to destroy the town, imprison the survivors and experiment on them, and that’s why he got there so quickly and was seemingly immediately ready to get started. Anyone else in the town would be killed to keep them from telling anyone what they witnessed. He wanted Sephiroth to lose it and do what SOLDIERs do best and destroy shit. When that didn’t happen, he had to improvise and call in a strike team to get the job done (with President Shinra’s blessing of course). The cover story would be that the town was attacked by monsters that were infecting the villagers and the attack was the equivalent of the army nuking a city to contain the zombie apocalypse. With deepest regret, we must announce that our beloved Sephiroth was lost to us in this attack.
Sephiroth’s lack of mental break and survival was a lucky break for Hojo, because he would be able to get his S-cell samples directly from the tap. So orders were given to take him down, severely wounding but not killing him, which would make him easier to handle. He’s ridiculously strong and fast, but he’s not immune to nor can he dodge bullets.
So truss him up, stick him in a mako tube and give him a cocktail of drugs that act as a sort of Lotus Eater Machine where he’s stuck inside his head living the life he though he would have lived if he had successfully deserted from Shinra. It would keep him docile because he would think it was real. But as with any similar scenario, he would eventually realize that none of it is real and that would snap him out of it. He’d bust out, find Zack and Cloud on his way out the door and off they’d go, but not back to Midgar. Zack would head there, but Sephiroth would take Cloud north because he heard that the healers up there know how to alleviate mako poisoning.
Yeah, it’s a work in progress…
At this point, I was thinking of having Sephiroth as the protagonist who travels the world along with other characters he scoops up along the way and Aerith as the deuteragonist in Midgar with Zack, Tifa and Avalanche. Eventually the two groups would meet up.
It’s going to be a series of multi-chapter stories patterned after the “seasons” of a TV show, and each chapter being the “episodes” connected by a story arc. I don’t know how many there will be yet, it will end when I run out of story to tell.
13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?
Probably scenes from the premise described above.
14. Are you physically attracted to this character?
How can you not be? He’s a total smokeshow.
15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?
Mix of both, but mostly on the non-sexual end of the spectrum.
16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?
No. Not yet, anyway.
17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).
No.
18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?
Oh, both, but with peace being the ultimate outcome no matter what happens.
19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?
Definitely.
20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?
I’ll have to think about that one.
21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?
Familial toward Baby Seph. I just want to kidnap this kid, send him to school, encourage him to make friends and play video games while I make him lots of pasta as my army of robot snipers protects him. Eat some more pasta, Baby Seph, you look thin.
I suppose my feelings toward the adult version are platonic even though I find him ridiculously attractive. I don’t imagine myself with him, but when I get the occasional hankering for seeing him paired up, I’m partial to Sephiroth/Aerith, maybe Sephiroth/Genesis if the canon dynamics are preserved and I’ve even seen Sephiroth/Tifa done very well.
22. Do you think you will always love this character?
It certainly seems that way now. I’ve loved him since 2007 or so even with very little new content and I seriously doubt there will be no new content after the trilogy ends because Square Enix can practically print their own money thanks in part to him.
23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?
If that’s a way of saying I’ve got permanent Sephiroth brain rot, then yes.
24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.
I can’t say I have. I don’t dream much and when I do it’s usually about me and my mom fighting. They say dreams about dead loved ones are them coming back to visit, and it’s just like her to use the opportunity to give me a hard time.
25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?
Gen fics, but the occasional pairing as well. I’m partial to ones that take place pre-Nibelheim and show the “slice of life” scenarios with or without the rest of the Himbo Holy Trinity or Zack. AU fics where Nibelheim is averted and his life goes in a different direction. AU fics where he does do a Face-Heel Turn but works with various other main characters because he’s acting out of Enlightened Self-Interest (the fic Epiphany on AO3 does a great job of portraying him this way but unfortunately it appears to have been abandoned by the authors).
I tend to avoid the ones where he’s portrayed as the usual monstrous villain. I can get that from canon and I haven’t seen many where the author goes outside the lines.
26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?
Sephiroth Needs a Hug, Sane Sephiroth, AU, Alternate Timeline are usually included. I exclude many of the pairings, but only because it makes for more efficient scrolling when gen fic is what I’m most interested in. I don’t bother to exclude the rare ones for that reason, because there aren’t many of those.
27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?
When I get a yen for it, I’m partial to Sephiroth/Aerith. I’ve even seen Sephiroth/Tifa done very well. I could even get into a Sephiroth/Original Character ship if the OC is an actual functional character and not an obvious self-insert. Nothing against that, I’m just a little allergic because of all the blatant Mary Sues running around back in the day.
28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?
Sometimes, but I keep it to myself. It’s just aggravating when people seem to deliberately misread him and act personally offended when he gets any kind of character development because they want to stay forever mad at him for killing Aerith. Like, any new developments for him don’t negate the existence of the original game, folks. I don’t even bother checking if anything on TV Tropes gets updated regarding him, because that place is crawling with those types. And don’t even get me started on those people who accuse you of Draco in Leather Pants-ing him anytime they see a take that isn’t “he’s evil and I hate him!” And then there are the folks who feel the need to point out his bad deeds any time they see a fan gushing over him. We all saw the same media, chief, we know what he did. Do you want us to call 911 over it?
29. Do you affectionately bully this character?
Sometimes.
30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?
A little bit, but I keep that to myself as well.
31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?
HELL no. I wear my Sephiroth brain rot like the Medal of Honor.
32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?
Shrimp scampi. I hear he likes seafood and pasta. I’ve also heard that if you and someone else both eat something with a lot of garlic, you won’t smell each other’s garlic breath. If we have to shack up until we could sound the All Clear on the breath front…
33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?
Mass murder aside, I embrace his flaws. Flaws make for a well-rounded and complex character.
34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?
The opposite happens, actually. You know those posts I make sometimes where I have Sephiroth losing his shpadoinkles not because of anything he read in the library but because he finally had enough of That Fuckwit from Field Services’ emails and Teams messages and ridiculous demands? All of those have happened in my professional life. If you hear about a small town in Southwestern Pennsylvania burning to the ground*, it’s because I stopped writing posts like that.
*No, I would never do something like that in real life. Most likely not. The fate of hundreds is in your hands, Fuckwit from Field Services.
35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?
Nah, thinking about the plot bunnies hopping through my head that were inspired by him is my melatonin.
36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?
No, I tend not to do that with fictional characters, even ones I’m as obsessed with as Sephiroth.
37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?
Yes, but mostly because no one I know in real life knows who the hell he is. Most of them have heard of Final Fantasy, but that’s about as far as it goes.
38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?
Neither. I mostly joke about him losing his shit because of fictional versions of one or two incredibly aggravating and demanding work colleagues. For the sake of me continuing to receive a paycheck and staying out of prison, this will be my outlet when Janice and Keith are on a roll.
39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?
No, he’s not real.
40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?
Yes, definitely.
41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?
I don’t consume much Sephiroth/Reader content, but I’ll have to check it out. As for OCs, the story I’m thinking about will have three prominent OCs and yes, they will also be products of Project S. In my idea, there were originally 10 S-types including Sephiroth. Two of them didn’t survive infancy and four were lost in various battles during the war. The remaining three are scattered to the four winds when the story starts. They and Sephiroth are connected in a way that they can sense each other but can’t pinpoint a precise location. I’m playing with the idea of a romance between him and one of them, but whether that gets included depends on how it will enrich the plot or move it forward.
42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?
I suck at poetry or songwriting, but get me speculating about something related to him or his place in the story and I could go on for hours.
43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?
Hot weather, because I HC that he doesn’t like it. Which made me come up with the following scenario of the Himbo Holy Trinity and Zack goofing off on a message forum one day:
Angeal: Seph, you need to take a vacation. How about a few days in Costa del Sol?
Sephiroth: Too hot.
Zack: hot damn…
Angeal: And my band ‘bout that money, break it down
Genesis: Girls, hit your hallelujah
Zack: Woo!
Sephiroth: *posts video of Uptown Funk* And if I have to have that song in my head for the rest of the day, so do all of you.
44. Which season makes you think of this character?
Hm, I haven’t thought about that.
45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?
A little. Enough that I can recognize subtle things about him.
46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?
Not upset so much as aggravated. Some takes seem so deliberately bad that it’s so obvious they’re comically exaggerating his bad traits just so they can continue to hate him for killing Aerith.
47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?
@rottenpumpkin13 ’s takes on his and the boys’ shenanigans sure have me laughing out loud most of the time!
48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?
I love the Remake trilogy’s design for him. Everything about it is just *chef’s kiss*
49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?
Pre-library, the way he showed such kindness and protectiveness to the people whose safety he was responsible for. The look on his face after he failed to save that security officer and the way he shook his head after he put the mission on hold to look for him and had to report that he wasn’t found was heartbreaking.
50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!
This song really makes me think of him. I deliberately chose the Limp Bizkit cover over the original version from The Who because the cover adds a new verse that I think describes him very well (apologies in advance for any unskippable ads).
youtube
No one knows what it’s like to be mistreated
To be defeated
Behind blue eyes
No one knows how to say that they’re sorry
And don’t worry
I’m not telling lies
But a verse from the original that isn’t in the cover fits as well
If my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
If I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
Oh, and did you know that Behind Blue Eyes was originally written as part of a rock opera Pete Townshend wrote after Tommy? It was called Lifehouse. There were a few live shows at the Young Vic Theater, but the project was eventually aborted and some of the songs from it ended up on other albums. Behind Blue Eyes was on Who’s Next.
In the rock opera, the song was sung by Jumbo, the main antagonist, a dictator who tightly controlled the entertainment that the public consumed, and rock and roll was considered barbaric. The hero was the leader of a resistance group who embraced rock and roll and tried to push it to the masses.
Behind Blue Eyes is sung by the antagonist when he realizes that he’s seen as the villain when up until that point, he though his intentions were good. It’s described as a first-person lament.
Sound like someone we know? Sure it does.
Anyway, this is more than long enough. Thank you for sticking around if you’ve made it this far and I hope the rest of your day/evening is peaceful.
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sewercentipede · 3 months
Text
a long dumb rant under the cut
this dnd group feels so weird like….. nobody takes initiative and there r so many moments where they just don’t say anything at all. The chemistry is kind of off. I feel like I’m always the one who does the taking charge solely to keep the game fuxkifn moving 90% of the time and I only do it bc nobody else does or says anything definitive. One time I decided to see how long they could go without someone talking or suggesting any course of action (when we entered a town and the DM had finished describing it and the places u could visit) by refusing to be the first person to talk. And it was dead silence for at least 20 seconds. Which is a long time. There are 5 total players btw!!!! So all 5 of us (plus the DM waiting) not making a sound. I was biting my tongue and feeling sooooooo uncomfortable the whole time. The DM ended up having the NPC we saved suggest something. I don’t know if it’s true at all, but I feel like they’re not engaged enough at various times and the result makes it feel like playing a solo RPG video game instead of a TTRPG.
Sometimes I have to ask each person individually by name what they vote to do next when we have different options in our quest, otherwise theylll say nothing and it will just be one other player who wanted to do something, and me replying to them my vote (usually I go with it) . And then nothing happening cuz we don’t know how the rest of the group feel. The rest just be staying silent. So I fucking have to call their name to take their votes. And still some of the players don’t answer me at all when I do this. It makes the game go slower in the absolute worst ways.
I also find often that i’ll ask a question of them or the DM and get complete silence in return. Long silence again. So I’m like “hello? Can u hear me? Is my mic working?” And they’ll all respond immediately that yes my mic is working and they can hear me. So it’s like why the fuck is nobody answering my questions then lmao. This is troubling me because I don’t know why it’s happening. There has to be a reason. Am I just so annoying? I don’t want to be. I try hard not to be. Does everyone not respond because they assume someone else will answer? That doesn’t make sense when the silence lasts so long it becomes clear that I won’t get answered by anyone. Then I have to keep asking and that makes it such that I will inevitably be perceived as annoying.
It’s like pulling teeth trying to get them to actually do anything they have decided to do. Like ok we have decided to go to <place>. Why is everyone just sitting there in silence now instead of going “I begin walking in this direction” or some shit, like they are all too scared to take charge or be the first one to do anything. Or we vote on some strategy and it’s all worked out but for some reason they then just mill about…..like girl, get into formation. You chose this! So do it!
The thing I hate is that when I don’t take charge or initiate anything or say “I do this” (this being the thing we decided on) it takes 10x as long for it to happen and it’s happening because the DM had to initiate it. and so I worry that because I end up having to do this, they will (or already do) find me bossy or otherwise obnoxious and possibly harbor resentment toward me or feel like they can’t speak out about what they want to do because they’re worried I’ll steamroll them (I absolutely would not and I never do, but I worry all the same).
But once again it is making the game go slowly in the worst way. And I don’t know what to make of the fact that I keep getting ignored when I ask benign or clarification questions. It’s making me feel the way I felt when I worked at a doctors office with other women my age and they all just became friends with each other but did not attempt to become friends with me and I didn’t know why. I tried to be friendly/nice to them, I talked to them, laughed w them, I didn’t do anything shitty. I But it was like they subconsciously decided that I didn’t exist outside of work. I was ignored. And it was something I could feel around them by the lack of it. That is how this is starting to feel.
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toa-secretsanta · 4 months
Text
'til the coffee gets cold
From Eleven to Tches-- Merry Christmas!
“Raymond-- I know you don’t appreciate it when I tell you how to do your job, but--” he is quickly met with a scowl, though it doesn’t fully deter Lucius from continuing his critique, “would it truly kill you to smile when talking to the customers…?” He returns Raven’s scowl with a look of disappointment, acting more like a mother reprimanding her child than a long time friend sharing his concerns. 
It was the norm for Raven to get a bit of an earful once the shop was empty. He never had the heart to say a single negative thing if there was even the slightest chance of someone overhearing, no matter how mild his “anger” was. Why he was so worried…well, he could only assume he didn’t want to embarrass Raven in front of any patrons-- not that it mattered in the end. Considering they were discussing his lack of proper customer service again, Raven knew damn well that he was already as unpopular with the customers as he could possibly be. “No, it wouldn’t kill me. I’m able to smile when I want to.”
“I…I know you are, Raymond-- I'm asking if you could smile. At the very least…wish them a good day once you’ve given them their order?” It was hard for someone like Lucius to give Raven all people orders. It was a complete reversal of roles, going from someone who worked under the Cornwells to now employing the man he had once called his boss-- even after all this time he wasn’t used to barking out orders. “I’m asking both as your friend and your boss…so please? You can do that much…can’t you?”
“Fine.” So long as he didn’t happen to get any of the more irritating customers it would be easy enough. While he knows that Lucius wouldn’t fire him for anything, especially not what others were saying about him…he didn’t want to make either of their lives harder than it had to be because of his own attitude.
---
The doorbell chimes as the last of the customers leave, giving the two men a chance to breathe. It wasn’t uncommon for a rush during the final hour, but something about tonight felt especially unforgiving. They manage, though-- they always do. “Ah, Raymond…you can take your break now if you’d like. I’m sorry it ended up being so late-- ah!” Once more the bell chimes as two new customers walk through the door. 
“Welcome!” Lucius is quick on the draw, a welcoming smile on his lips-- not overly obnoxious, something kind…genuine. “We’ll be with you in just a moment! Raymond-- do you mind taking their order before you go on your break, actually? I don’t mind preparing it…then you can relax until it’s time to clean.” 
It…was a bit of an odd request. While it made sense, Lucius would have normally taken it all on himself without hesitation. Raven raises a brow, but he doesn’t find it worth arguing over. He nods, walking over to the register where a man and a woman stand. As they give their orders he can’t help but stare at the woman for just a moment too long, finding her to be…familiar in some way. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why at first… “What’s the name?” The café was empty, so it didn’t really matter…but he could feel Lucius’ gaze bore into the back of his neck as he waited for him to ask. 
“Oh…just put them both under Priscilla, please…” She smiles, completely unaware of how that name shakes Raven to his very core. Even if he doesn’t let it show, his expression never falters past the widening of his eyes, his eyes follow her as she moves to the side to wait for their drinks. 
“Raymond…? Raymond!” Lucius snaps him out of his thoughts, two drinks in hand. “Your break…? I doubt we’ll have to serve anyone else, but I’m sure I can manage on my own for a moment.” 
“If you’re certain, then. I won’t be long--”
“Ah…Erk?” She’s apprehensive at first, her voice soft, though just loud enough for Raven to hear her from where he stands. “I think you may have grabbed the wrong order…none of this is right,” she laughs nervously, waving her hand as if asking her complaint to be dismissed, “but it’s alright! I don’t mind-- it still looks delicious!”
Erk, however, was having none of that. “What? Really-- I am sorry, Priscilla. I will bring it back and make sure they make it correctly this time.” He wastes not a single moment, her drink and food in hand as he walks back towards where Lucius was working away…leaving Priscilla all alone. It’s as if his body moves all on its own towards her table. He didn’t even know what he was planning on saying, or how he could even begin, but--
“You…can I help you?” Priscilla speaks first despite it all. She doesn’t seem bothered at all by his presence, her eyes moving to stare at the chair in front of her-- an invitation that Raven doesn’t dare to ignore. She scans his person, taking in every single detail once he’s sat. “Your name is…Raven?”
He raises his brow, confused on how she knew-- only to realize it was written on his nametag as such. “Oh, that. No…I just don’t care for strangers knowing my name. So I use a fake one on my nametag…” If only it were that simple, but it’s a good enough excuse for such a strange meeting. “It’s Raymond.”
Her eyes light up in an instant, bright enough to blind the poor man staring into them helplessly, leaning forward against the table in her excitement. Even like this…she is as delicate as they come. “Raymond-- you don’t…happen to have a sister, do you?"
"I-- Priscilla?" It's something out of a dream. If he had been in shock at simply hearing her name this felt like lightning striking him down where he sat. "Is it really...?"
"Yes...brother," there is only a moment of hesitance, as if the word is foreign on her tongue after so long, "it's funny-- I thought of searching for you for so long...only to stumble upon you completely by chance. Who would have thought my long lost brother was the handsome face so many of my classmates warned me about?"
He can feel his cheeks grow slightly warm at the comment, doing all he can to brush it off. "Classmates? So that man you're here with is...?" There's the slightest bit of relief at the realization, like a weight lifted off of his shoulders-- it felt too soon to play the role of the protective older brother, but he had no idea what type of people she had surrounded herself with in his absence. 
"Oh-- yes...well, sort of... Erk and I do study together, but he's been hired by the family who took me in. My health has improved since I was a child, but there are times where I still need help...so they've decided it's best for me to not be left alone when I leave the house." 
It...was bittersweet, listening to his sister speak of things that should have been common knowledge to a brother. She had been a little girl when she left and now she was a grown woman. Her life had moved on, and so had his own... "I'm glad you were well taken care of," it was unlike anything he could have provided for her, "I really should--"
"Raymond-- brother. Don't...now that I've finally found you again I can't stand the thought of losing you again. So...don't go, not yet...at least let me give you this..." Priscilla doesn't take her eyes off of him for a second as she digs through her purse, quickly pulling out and sliding an envelope across the table. "...It's...an invitation. We're having a Holiday party and, well...I would really like it if you came."
"Priscilla...I've really never been the type to care for parties." His hand twitches against the table, inching towards the invitation. "...I'll think about it, but no promises." The feeling of paper against his fingertips is strangely defined, as if the contents of the envelope itself weighed heavy. "...There's much about our family that I must tell you about, but..." A peek over his shoulder confirms his suspicions as Lucius hands Erk the replacement order. Their private time together would be cut much shorter than he would have hoped. "I wouldn't want to interrupt."
The smile she gives him could melt Winter snow, filling even Raven with a strange warmth he hadn't felt since they were children. "Brother! I look forward to seeing you there...don't work too hard, alright?"
Though she speaks with those very same expectations he had warned her not to have Raven can't find it in himself to argue or to remind her of the fact that he may not show up...both of them knew that that wouldn't be the case. 
He leaves before Erk returns, not wanting to have to answer anymore questions than necessary. There was a lot of new information trying to settle in his head...but organizing them would have to wait until he was done work at the very least.
---
“...You knew, didn’t you?” Raven is the first to speak as they close. He continues wiping the bar down as Lucius pauses in his moping, a chuckle under his breath. “About Priscilla. You can’t hide it, Lucius-- since when do you make a mistake like giving someone the entirely wrong order? It was on purpose.”
“Ah…you think so? That girl…she’s only come by once or twice before, but…” A pause, “she looks an awful lot like that sister of yours you talk about so much, doesn’t she…? I wonder…”
 "You aren't very good at hiding it, Lucius." Still...it was nice. Even if they could only see each other for a little while, Raven was thankful that from now on he wouldn't have to sit and wonder where his sister was, or if she was okay...she was now only a stone's throw away. "Thank you, Lucius. I mean it."
He laughs just a tad louder at that, turning to face Raven with a smile. "No need to thank me, Raymond-- I'm just happy to see that you really can smile!"
"That's...enough from you. Just finish mopping so we can get out of here before the sun comes up."
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Heyy, I was wondering if you could do a head cannon about being Dallas sister? And probably 2 years younger than him?
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A/N: This was a very popular request! Hope you all enjoy <3 I wrote this the day before school started so it might suck cause I was super panicked, just be warned
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So both of these requests are for a sister!reader, but as someone who doesn’t always enjoy being called feminine terms, I’m going to do these gender-neutral
Don’t worry, it’ll be the same content, we’re just gonna go un-gendered because that means more people get to enjoy and feel included <3
So! Onto the headcanons?
Dallas Winston’s younger sibling, you guys have different parents, but you’re half-siblings
So whether you want to come up with the elaborate story of whether you have different fathers or different mothers, that’s up to you my dear friend
You’re a few years younger than Dally, falling somewhere between Ponyboy and Johnny in the ages of the gang
You both ran away from New York together and I’m sure your record is almost as long as his
Dally does his best to keep you out of trouble, he tries to play the protective big brother role and do everything so you don’t have to
But it doesn’t always work out, you’ve got plenty of charges and crimes to your name
You’ve got a room at Buck’s too!
It’s across the hall from Dally’s, a little down the way, but it’s a mirror copy of his
Buck calls you little Winston most of the time, or kid Winston, really any variation of that
You either got along really well with Sylvia, or you guys were constantly at each other’s throats
Like the relationship was either the two of you being besties or the two of you not being able to stand in a room together for more than five minutes without starting a fight
Dally, being Dally, won’t really care about how you feel about Syl because you’re not the one going steady with her so you don’t have any right <3
His words, not mine, Dally’s just being an asshole guys
So like, I cannot realistically see Dally breaking up with Sylvia just cause the two of you had a fight unless Sylvia did something totally over the line
Dally would be a really protective older brother, mentioned it early, but let’s delve a little deeper, shall we?
Y’all had to be expecting this coming up, but Dally is such an ass when it comes to the people you like
You’re going to be lucky if you find someone who passes his standards for you and is willing to push through Dally and his obnoxious tendencies
The gang is off-limits, Socs too obviously, but the gang is a no-go
Dally doesn’t want you dating anyone in the gang and that’s that, no other options, they’re like his brothers, he knows they’re not good enough for you
So is the Shepard family, you’re not allowed to date a Shepard, Dally is very adamant about these rules
If he catches that you’re dating someone from either of the groups he’s told you not to?
Oh boy, there’s gonna be a fight
And I mean a right and proper fight, loud screaming and name-calling from both sides, everyone just takes the memo and doesn’t interfere, it’s safer for them that way
I think you and Dallas would fight a lot?
Sure, you’d have your typical arguments and stuff, that’s just called being siblings
But I think that if you’re Dally’s younger sibling, you guys probably have a little bit of the same sort of temper
So you butt heads a lot, sometimes about important things, sometimes about stupid things
Buck and Darry are probably some of the only ones who can break up a fight between the two of you, maybe Johnny if he says the right stuff
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striveattemptfail · 2 years
Text
Better and Brighter | Timber, PG, 3k
Summary: A look at everything that happened between Tim and Bernard from Bernard’s perspective. Posted for Bernard Week 2022: Fill The Blanks. Warning: Discusses school shooting + canon death of a character, as well as canon cult activities, but is not overly descriptive for any of these. Contains spoilers for Robin (1993), Batman: Urban Legends #4-6, and “Special Delivery” by Travis Moore in DC Pride 2022. Read on Ao3
A/N: Listen y'all, I tried to get this out for the end of this past pride, and when I missed that I aimed for Timberversary, and when I missed that I tried shooting for Day 7 of @bernarddowdweek​​. Alas, Bernard did not wanna shut up and took what should’ve been a 700-word fic to 3k, so now I am posting this a week after the anniversary /o\
Thank you to @saturniiids​ for the exceptionally quick beta~! Shout out to the Lightbulb Moment server for listening to my bitching as I tried to finish this fic lol. All other mistakes are mine.
————————————————————
In hindsight, Bernard maybe should’ve been tipped off that he was at least a little bit queer when, on the dude’s first day of school, he checked out Tim Drake from head-to-toe.
“Your eyes are clear and you lack the telltale hemp-ish smell that would place you with the Heads.”
Dark blue eyes. Not quite as striking as the clear sky above us, but notable nonetheless. He smells like shampoo and fresh laundry—and maybe a little bit of sweat.
“You could be a jock—you look ripped enough—but then again there’s all those books to consider.”
Well-fitted tee over muscles that are clearly stretching the fabric. Perhaps an athlete with a secret?
“You are an enigma, grasshopper.”
This is a guy I want to know better, he thought.
“Name’s Bernard Dowd, by the way. Bernard, got it? Call me Bernie and I’ll have to punish you.” Bernard handed back the newbie’s schedule with a small grin.
He was met with an obliging smile and a flash of amusement in the newbie’s gaze.
“Tim Drake.”
“Glad to meet you, Timmy.”
“Tim.”
His grin widened.
“See? We’re getting along already.”
And in less than five minutes of meeting him, Bernard had his arm around Tim’s shoulders.
It was a full assessment and glowing review—he should have probably picked up that this wasn’t exactly something a straight man would do to anyone, unless they were completely obnoxious.
(To be fair, Bernard knew he was pretty presumptuous back in high school. He wasn’t a jerk about it though.)
Time went on, and days at Louis E. Grieve blurred from one into the next. Classes and teachers and crushing on Darla from afar was his normal. Sometimes the only thing worth remembering about his days was Tim and the tall tales he came up with. Frequent absences and constantly marred skin was totally different from what Bernard was used to. Tim’s lies about being on the gymnastics team with friends from his old boarding school were easy to see through, but Bernard was a patient man and figured Tim would tell him what was going on eventually.
Patience was how he finally got the chance to speak to Darla, after all. (Well, aside from Tim’s crazy stunt confronting the giant jocks surrounding her.) Bernard knew she wasn’t into him, but he could be patient and wait for her crush on Tim to wane. Tim was smart and cool, sure, and objectively attractive to top it off (how did he find the time to work out?), but Bernard knew he still had a chance because Tim apparently had a girlfriend.
He was genuinely curious about the elusive “Stephanie” Tim so often talked about. She sounded almost too good to be true, and Bernard remembered calling him out on it.
“I’m happily involved with someone else,” Tim had reminded him.
Bernard resisted rolling his eyes. “So you keep saying, but where is this mysterious Stephanie Whatshername? Why have I never met her?”
It’s because she’s not real, he thought knowingly, or because “Stephanie” is actually a “Stephen”.
Bernard was a conspiracy theorist—he knew how to deduce things. But he was also a pretty chill dude, and he figured he’d let Tim know that the poor guy didn’t have to keep lying about a fake relationship just to cover up his sexuality.
He had patted Tim’s shoulder reassuringly. “If you got something you wanna tell me, then speak up. We’re buds. I’ll understand.” He gestured to himself. “We’re two modern, enlightened men in the new millennium, Drake. No need to make up imaginary girlfriends.”
This should’ve been another (rainbow) flag. He had always considered himself an ally—he was never a homophobic asshole—but maaaybe he could have picked up on why he was so adamant that he was really cool with it if Tim ever came out to him.
And, okay, he also had a thing for hot women. He could cut himself a little slack. Darla Aquista was the hottest girl at school; he would’ve admitted that even after his feelings about her changed from a crush to something more platonic. If he was being honest, she was still just as attractive once she got mystical powers and became Laura Fell. He also wasn’t lying when he said that Tim’s stepmom was hot—indeed, the Drake men were very lucky guys—and he still won’t apologize for sort-of ogling her when he had dinner at Tim’s place.
“Bernard, take my advice,” Tim had warned in a low voice. “You really need to stop talking, right now.”
He did, and he and Tim played the new Batman and Robin game Bernard got his hands on.
It probably should have tipped him off when he thought Tim’s angry pout was cute though.
————————————————————
Bernard lost himself when Darla died.
One moment he was walking the halls and the next he was in the nurse’s office because Darla had been shot.
He had never felt so helpless in his life.
When Tim left the room, armed with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a wooden baseball bat, Bernard couldn’t even bring himself to stop him. It was obviously a suicide mission, but Bernard could do nothing but lock the door as asked once Tim left.
He found out later that Tim was the reason Darla even made it to the school. Someone (Tyrone?) said that Tim had acted heroically despite the madness around them. Bernard almost wished he could have seen it, seen Tim apparently kicking ass in action, but it wouldn’t have changed the fact that he lost a friend.
He saw Tim at Darla’s funeral, but he didn’t look like he wanted to see anyone.
And neither did Bernard.
He was transferred to a private school by the next week, and for a long while it was the last time he saw Tim.
————————————————————
It was after what happened at Louis Grieve that Robin—his Robin, the one before the girl Robin—was back in action. By that point, he’d never actually met Robin before, and he still vehemently believed that Batman replaced Robins with new orphans, but somehow Bernard recognized him. Something about the way this Robin moved, the way he immediately slunk away before anyone could even get a clear picture of him, that made Bernard sure it was the Robin he was most familiar with. The forums he frequented disagreed, but Bernard knew better.
He started to obsess over Robin—his Robin, not the new one, the smaller, younger one with a sword that showed up later—and the way he worked with the urban legend that was the Batfamily. He learned what made this Robin different, his quick movements and fighting style. He didn’t quite have the grace of one of the previous Robins, or the acrobatic strength of another Robin, or even the ruthlessness of the latest Robin. But there was an efficiency that was distinguishable to Bernard. He could think fast and follow through even when things went sideways.
This fixation filled his days. It distracted him from the pain of losing Darla, the shock of getting her back (sort of), the whirlwind of her leaving him again (though at least not dead this time), the blur that was his new life at a different school.
And it helped keep his mind off how much he really missed Tim.
Bernard missed messing around and playing games with him. He missed being able to talk for hours on end about the latest conspiracy theory he came across, even if Tim mostly just laughed at most of them. Bernard missed the easy way he could throw an arm around him or bump their shoulders together.
Again, in hindsight, all of this probably spoke volumes about his own sexuality. It was one thing to be inspired by Robin’s heroics and take self-defense classes; it was another to study Robin’s specific fighting style. It was one thing to miss a close friend like Tim after he switched schools; it was another to think about him all the time.
And Bernard did think about Tim. He thought about Tim a lot.
And because he was already familiar with forums and the vast wide world of the web, he took to the boards once more to figure out what the hell he was feeling.
It didn’t take long for him to realize he was bi. Girls were still plenty attractive to him, but there was no mistaking that he had affection for guys too.
(Or, at least, one specific guy.)
He came out not long after his revelation because, after everything that happened at Louis Grieve, he didn’t want to hold back anymore. Besides, if Robin(s) could fight every night against some of the most horrific rogues around, he figured being openly queer was a cake walk.
He was a man of the new millennium, after all.
He changed up his wardrobe and style, swapping his biker shades for ear cuffs; trimmed his hair down to a shorter, messy mop. He dated around for a bit, men and women alike. He even went to his school’s pride celebration.
Nothing stopped him from missing Tim and Darla (Laura, he had to remind himself, it’s Laura now) and how things used to be, but the changes helped. Investigating new theories (Robin-related or not), training in self-defense classes, discovering himself, meeting new people—it was his new normal.
Despite how busy he now was, it still took probably longer than it should have to get back in touch with Tim. Between the big adoption announcement into the Wayne family and becoming a shareholder in Wayne Enterprises, Tim Wayne definitely had public profiles online, but Bernard knew that his attempts to contact Tim through those accounts would’ve probably gone into a spam inbox before Tim could even see it.
Tim Drake was a little harder to track down.
Bernard was nervous about his search—so much time had already passed and the event that separated them was so traumatic. Would Tim remember him? Would he even give Bernard the time of day? What if things became too awkward between them? Would he look Bernard in the eye and only remember what happened at Louis Grieve? The answers left Bernard anxious with every page he swiped through, made him slow down as he scrolled past different accounts.
But Bernard wasn’t about to quit, and despite his worries, he still really missed his friend.
After some sleuthing around and hopping between social media profiles, he eventually managed to DM Tim on Pixtagraph. Bernard wasn’t even 100% sure if the account was active seeing as its last post was a few years ago, but it was the best lead he had, so he took a shot.
By some stroke of luck, Tim responded in less than a day, and the two of them decided to meet up for a casual dinner by the next week.
————————————————————
Reconnecting with Tim was—
—kinda amazing.
He was as smart and dorky as Bernard remembered him. He was still easy to tease and poke fun at, and still took Bernard’s jokes in stride. A little less sure of himself unlike when they were in high school together, but still just as driven.
(Just as cute too, if Bernard was being honest, but that would’ve been jumping the gun.)
Then the Chaos Monsters crashed their date, and more than anything Bernard wished he had contacted Tim earlier, if only so they could have spent a little more time together.
————————————————————
It was a combination of reading through discussion boards and talking to new friends that he learned about the Children of Dionysus. He might have made some peace with his sexuality and what happened in the past, but that didn’t mean he was set for the rest of his life.
It turned out a lot of other people felt the same way too.
It was—exhilarating. Letting everything go, having the pain focus his mind, being able to heighten his own pain tolerance during fights. It was called a “cult”, but Bernard only ever thought of it like a BDSM club, just less sexual and open to people his age. He thought that, while the leaders were a bit cold, they were still charismatic and persuasive, and he eagerly wanted to soak up their promises. He thought the “Chaos Monsters” were only overdramatic bodyguards who made sure everyone kept quiet about their little gatherings.
Stupid, he knew now.
And he was proven exactly how stupid that was when he was publicly kidnapped. The cult leaders decided he was going to be a sacrifice, and the Chaos Monsters were ready to oblige. He was incredibly lucky that Robin came in the nick of time, and Bernard very much learned his lesson about the slippery slope that was joining a cult.
————————————————————
After the whole ordeal with the Children of Dionysus, things got easier.
It wasn’t perfect. Missed dates happened more often than both he and Tim liked, but Bernard figured being a son of The Bruce Wayne was a lot to deal with. It was also clear that Tim was still hiding things from him, but just like back in high school when he spotted Tim’s scars and bruises, just like at Darla’s funeral, Bernard didn’t push. Tim was planning to stick around, and so was Bernard—he’d talk to Bernard eventually, or Bernard would coax it out of him.
He was patient with Darla (Laura); he could be patient with Tim too.
Bernard loved whatever time he did get with him. Between movie dates and diner visits, he enjoyed every moment he spent with Tim.
It was a bit weird, but in a good way, in the best way. They were getting to know each other again, but it also felt like they were falling right back into how things used to be.
Now with more handholding.
There was never a dull moment, and Bernard never knew he could be this happy, this comfortable with someone. He spent so long trying to make up for everything he lost since Louis Grieve, having someone—having Tim—to enjoy his time with...
He didn’t have the words to describe how lucky he felt.
————————————————————
Tim was late. Again. Bernard was very used to this. He would be more worried, if only because the reason why his boyfriend was late again was because of some rogue criminals blocking the streets by the Narrows.
Macro and micro robbery cutting the roads off from the parade. Will be late. Sorry. Sad face.
(Tim used text-to-speech to send his messages, Bernard had learned. Tim said it was because he usually got around on his motorcycle—which Bernard had conveniently never seen—but the written out emojis were kinda endearing nonetheless.)
Bernard typed out a quick response:
It’s okay. I’ll meet you at the park. Thumbs up. LOL. ;P
Tim sent back a middle finger (the actual emoji this time) and Bernard couldn’t help but laugh.
When Tim finally caught up to where Bernard was watching Gotham’s pride parade, the little speech he opened with was really sweet. He started recalling their dates, even the disaster that was Bernard getting kidnapped by Chaos Monsters; he talked about how their relationship had been a journey of discovery, not unlike Bernard’s own; and for as rehearsed as it sounded, Bernard could tell that Tim meant every word he was saying.
“—know how my life is, how hectic it can be. I was afraid I’d let you down. And I have. Repeatedly. And I’m sorry—”
He had half a mind to slap a hand over Tim’s mouth because he was rambling, but honestly Bernard was charmed by how nervous Tim was, and he wanted to know where his little speech was going.
“—want you to know I’m so happy to have you—”
Bernard was suddenly filled with warmth, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the summer sun shining down on them. Between Tim’s words and the earnestness in his voice, all Bernard could feel how happy he really was, same as Tim.
“—which is why I’m giving you this.”
Tim held his hands out to present a white box, which Bernard took from him before flipping the top open with excited curiosity.
It was a cake, or at least three-quarters of one. The right side was pretty ruined. The text written in different coloured frosting was now cut off with the crumbled corner, and the rainbow sprinkles mushed together in the mess.
It was adorable.
“How did you know it was my ‘Fir Pri’?” Bernard smirked down at his gift, his heartbeat fluttering despite the mistakes. Sure, the cake was a bit destroyed, and, yeah, he’d already been to pride before.
But he loved it all the same.
He thought about going to his school’s pride celebration, really confronting the fact that his feelings for Tim and admiration for Robin wasn’t just friendly affection. He thought about his time in the Dionysus cult, and how close he got to losing everything, again.
As he examined the cake, Tim—of course—started babbling again. “It’s supposed to say ‘Happy First Pride,’ but it had a rough journey getting here.”
Bernard thought about how the years have passed for him, how they were once filled with loss and regret, then eventually enlightenment and discovery. He thought about how it all led to finding his way back to Laura, and Tim.
“And I baked it myself, so it wasn’t all that pretty to begin with, to be honest.”
Bernard shifted his gaze from the cake to his boyfriend, who looked sheepish and a little apologetic.
“It’s perfect and I love it,” he said with certainty, “flaws and all.”
He meant it too. Even though this wasn’t technically his first pride celebration, it was his first pride with someone he really liked.
It was his first pride with Tim.
And that was still pretty special all on its own.
He pulled Tim close, pressing his forehead against Tim’s, their noses almost brushing from the closeness. His smile twisted from amused to fond.
“It was definitely worth the wait.”
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eleanorfenyxwrites · 8 months
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WIP Wednesday
Next bit of the new chapter of Soldier, Poet, King
--//--
“Stop biting, Yangyang, or I’m going to have to knock you out,” Nie Huaisang scolds, and Jin Guangyao is genuinely surprised when it works. Xue Yang quiets down and seems resigned to his fate of being hooked up to various machinery to monitor just about every measurable aspect of human life.
“He has nightmares when he’s unconscious,” A-Qing whispers to him conspiratorially. Jin Guangyao leans over a bit to hear better and keeps his eyes on Xue Yang, wary of his sudden acquiescence proving itself to be a fake-out. “Really bad ones. I think he’s still in their heads a little.”
“Heads? Plural?” Jin Guangyao asks.
“Uh-huh. He Drifted with one but he says it was all of them, all at the same time. Like the Borg.”
Jin Guangyao frowns and feels like he’s missing something, namely whatever the hell the ‘Borg’ are, but Wei Wuxian makes somewhat aggressive eye contact and puts a finger to his lips to shush him and then makes a sort of ‘keep going’ gesture.
Jin Guangyao glares at him for the contradictory instructions but decides he must mean to just keep her talking about the Kaiju specifically.
“He knew that the last Kaiju would follow him.”
“Of course he did,” A-Qing snorts, shrugging like she can’t be bothered as she returns to her tinkering, “That was the whole point of the plan to kill your dad, but he could do it because they’re all trying to get at him now. All the time. He says they’re calling for him but it’s more like shrieking he can't stop listening to.”
Well. Xue Yang is an obnoxious and genuinely dangerous menace, but being relentlessly pursued by an unknown number of Kaijus who can get in his head any hour of the day or night is not a fate Jin Guangyao would wish on anyone. Another glance at Wei Wuxian proves that he’s turned pale and seems to understand precisely what Jin Guangyao does about what that must be doing to Xue Yang’s already tenuous grip on sanity.
“He’s about to overload.”
Jin Guangyao does not jump at Song Zichen’s sudden comment from behind him, his voice is too quiet for that, but it’s certainly a little disconcerting. He doesn’t have time to ruminate on the slightly eldritch creepiness of the Immortals, though, as he looks over at Xue Yang again and is alarmed (to put it mildly) to find that his neck has turned…blue? There’s an entire network of veins standing out under his skin as he strains against his cuffs but they’re the same neon blue of fresh Kaiju blood, and Nie Huaisang seems to realize in the same moment that the new way Xue Yang is straining against his cuffs has absolutely nothing to do with his hatred for being confined.
“Go get the Wens,” Jin Guangyao orders Wei Wuxian who jumps to his feet in a flurry of papers to tear out of the lab. Xue Yang thrashes around a guttural scream that only barely manages to escape the confines of his throat and Mo Xuanyu lunges forward from where he’d backed off at Xue Yang’s protest in order to take over the various sensors and instruments hooked to him again.
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callsignmercy · 2 years
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Princess - Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.
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Prompt: Hangman is an obnoxious man and very keen on making your life a living hell after you told him off. But what happens when you’ve got tired of all of this?
Words: ~3.3k
Warning: Sad, mention of death and suicidal thoughts. Minors DNI. English is not my first language so sorry for the easy vocabulary and bad grammar…
Note: This is my first Top Gun fic, please be kind. This is only part one as I made it extra long sorry. HIGHLY UNEDITED.
Part 2.
————————————————————————
Hangman could swear he found you insufferable. That evening when you passed the door of The Hard Deck with Rooster, scanning the room for your squadronmates, Hangman held his breath. He found you hot and cute but seeing you with Rooster maybe meant that you were together, which saddened him. But he was soon comforted.
“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” “Hangman. You look… good.” “Well I am good, Rooster. I am very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.” “Anyway, guys this is Princess, a fellow pilot at the Golden Warriors.” Rooster introduced you to the group. “Well hello there princess. Why do they call you that? Because you’re hot-” Okay is he flirting with you? Seems like the type to be honest. “-or because you’re a kiss-ass?” Okay maybe he’s just an asshole.
“Excuse me?” You stutter. “Well I don’t know, Princess as a call sign? Seems like you’re here because you kissed some admiral’s ass. You see you don’t resemble the type of pilots we usually see.” Coyote turns around, whispering to him. “Look at her name tag.” Hangman does so but he doesn’t seem to care. “Just for your information, Bagman, my call sign is Princess because I am William “King” McLeary’s daughter, it has nothing to do with any admiral whatsoever. In fact, I piss them off more often than I like to admit.-”
“True that.” Rooster murmurs. “-Second of all, you seem like a narcissistic asshole, with constant need of approval by your peers and mommy issues considering how you like to flirt with literally anything that breathes.” “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Hard of hearing and anger issues, we’re going somewhere.” “Don’t talk about my mother like that you bitch.” “Wow, that escalated quickly.” You add.
“You don’t like being put back at your place so you feel the need to insult anyone that contradicts you? How progressive. You need to grow up and realize everything doesn’t revolve around you. Look in a mirror from time to time and see how pathetic your life is before assuming things you didn’t even background check. Think before you talk, you’ll see it’s a good way to prevent you saying stupid shits. On that note, I’m gonna go get a drink. You can go back to your pool game and your miserable life.”
Everyone is taken aback by your monologue. Apparently nobody had every stood up to Hangman before you except to make snarky remarks.
You call Penny over and greet her as you haven’t seen her in a long time. “How are you doing Hon? It’s been so long. I heard about your father I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, I’m doing better, it’s not like it was unexpected, he’d been sick for a while.” “What can I get you?” “A beer please, I’m gonna need it to spend the night with that douchebag over there.” You point to Hangman as he gives you a deadly look.
“What has he done this time?” “You know the usual arrogant pilot thing, getting cocky and insulting people without arguments.” “Tell me about it.” You chuckle and take your beer. “How much do I owe you, Penn?” “It’s on Maverick tonight.” She points to a guy on the other side of the bar. You laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll get it. Put him out of his misery.” “Alright.”
As you go back to your squadronmates, Hangman heads towards the bar and whispers to you. “You shouldn’t have said that. You’re gonna regret it.” “Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes. If eyes could kill, you’d be dead ten time by now
As the first week passes you are constantly met with Hangman’s mean remarks about your name. You’re used to it and you don’t really care but today it has gone up a level. He is decided on making your life a living hell and for you to leave the mission before it happens.
This morning you found dirt all over your clothes, which made them impossible to wear, so you had to do a full laundry before going to class, which made you late. At noon he made you trip at the mess and you ended up on your butt, covered in sauce as your tray spilt on you. And he constantly ridiculed you in class, marking snarky remarks in class in front of Maverick.
The next day was no better, you shower stuffs were emptied all over the bathroom floor, constant devaluation of your performances in class, yet again, snarky remarks which made everyone laugh, except for your best friend Rooster, who tried to stop him but couldn’t. You feel like if he could, he would have gladly beaten you up in your sleep, which made you sleep bad for more than a week now.
Your lack of sleep affected your performances in the sky, which made you go down in Maverick’s esteem and the overall charts. Being a solo pilot meant that you didn’t have anyone but yourself to protect, but lately you were making dangerous manoeuvres and wishing you’d just crash just to stop having to deal with the constant pressure of Hangman wanting to defeat you.
As you go back to your quarters after yet a disastrous day you can’t help but break down. Hangman’s means were up the roof to make you leave and you couldn’t handle it anymore. Lately, because of your disastrous results, he had made a remark about you not living up to your dad’s legacy which ultimately lead to your downfall.
You couldn’t handle it anymore and as soon as you passed the shower door you fell down of your knees and started crying. You didn’t think a simple – yet true – remark about Hangman’s true nature could have led to a week of constant harassment and suicidal thoughts on your part. As you were sat under the running shower, fully clothed and crying to the point of not being able to breathe properly Natasha entered.
“Hello? I heard crying are you okay?” She saw you, and immediately came to you. “Oh my god, Princess are you alright?” You couldn’t manage an answer and kept on crying.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, not being able to mutter a single word. She cut off the water and sat next to you, holding you in her arms.
After several minutes of you constantly crying and not being able to catch your breath you finally managed to calm down a bit and explain to Phoenix why you were like this.
“I’m gonna quit. I’m gonna go back to the Warriors and leave you guys to it I’m not cut for this job anyway.” “Gosh, is this because of Seresin?” You didn’t answer but your tears doubled and she understood. “Look, Hangman’s a douchebag, you shouldn’t listen to him. You bruised his ego so he tries to do anything to get back at you but it’s nothing. He’s just an insecure little boy.”
“It’s more than that he’s made my life a living hell. The other day I was late to class because I had to redo all my laundry because of him, and the time he made me trip and fall at the mess? I can’t sleep because I fear he’s gonna show up during the night and beat me to death. And recently he’s been talking about my dad and I couldn’t handle it. I’ve been shitty in the sky because of his remarks in class, I won’t be chosen for the mission so better yet go back to my normal life. I’ll tell my decision to Captain Mitchell and the admiral today.”
Phoenix held you tighter as she felt saddened about everything you just told her, she couldn’t imagine what had happened because you never told anyone. She felt sick that anyone could be this mean to anybody and not feel guilty about anything.
As she managed to get you to bed and let you sleep because you definitely needed it, she goes up to Jake with the sole intention of telling him off. “Bagman!” “It’s still Hangman.” “Whatever. What the fuck did you do to McLeary?” “Nothing more than she deserved.” He replied, not guilty in the slightest.
“She just told me that you made her life a living hell, pulling shits on her constantly, making snarky remarks, terrifying her to the point that she cannot get a single minute of sleep at night. Wearing her down to the point that she wants to kill herself whenever she’s up there. What the fuck is wrong with you? She just told you the truth, something that none of us could have had the guts to tell you upfront and you decided, instead of thinking about it and doing better, that it was best to give her suicidal thoughts and depression? Grow the fuck up Seresin, this isn’t kindergarten anymore. You’re thirty for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re a womanizer and maybe you in fact need constant validation by your friends but it’s not a reason to push someone over the edge. As she said, look in a mirror, you’ll see how pathetic you are, even more than you used to be.”
Jake froze the instant Natasha told him Y/N wanted to kill herself when flying. It made him think about his attitude and how he ended up in this situation. Don’t get me wrong, it is highly unusual for Jake to even think twice about the way he acted, but he never wanted to push anyone to the point of no return. He just wanted you to quit so he wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.
The next day when you show up to class, Natasha can’t help but notice the even bigger bags under your eyes. You don’t smile, you don’t even look alive. You were determined to give you resignation at the end of today, you just couldn’t handle it anymore. This was worse than the basic training you had to do to become a pilot, the torture they put you through as a final test, in case you had to crash in an enemy territory – of course you can’t give any information about you or your bosses of anything for that matter – but the torture was nothing compared to this. Because the torture you could handle just fine, the pressure was like adrenaline to you, but this was a totally different scenario. You had said something in the first place that led you here. In a real torture scenario, you would have kept your mouth shut.
As you sit at the very back of the class, not being able to comprehend a single word that comes out Maverick’s mouth you think about your father. The King was the greatest alongside Maverick and Iceman. They had graduated together and made a great team whenever they went on missions. He was rear-admiral during the time Iceman was admiral and they retired around the same period. About a year ago, your father became really sick and eventually died a couple of months ago. He was your hero, he gave you the love for flying and the envy to do great in the navy. So when you graduated Top Gun – a year before Hangman and Rooster – he was obviously the proudest father in the world. You thought he was the greatest – alongside Iceman and Maverick – and hearing Jake say that you didn’t live up to your father’s legacy made you lose all control.
You had always tried to make him proud and very often succeeded, you were the only one – with Jake – to have confirmed kills in the Navy. Jake didn’t know about it and you weren’t the type to brag around unlike him. But you always hoped you made everyone in your family proud.
The hours you spent in the sky that day weren’t great either, you almost had to eject because of a bird strike but eventually managed to regain control of your jet. You stayed alarmingly quiet up there, not joking like you used to, just giving the minimum of communication that was required of you. Your voice felt cold and sad and everyone seemed to have noticed it but they didn’t say anything to you by fear of saying something wrong. Even Hangman didn’t make snarky remarks to you today. And you were grateful that you didn’t have to fly a single time with him. But your mind was set and at the end of the day you were going to talk to Maverick about your decision.
“Captain Mitchell, may I have a word with you?” You asked. Your face and tone remained neutral which was actually destabilizing for him, as the usual spring in your step and smiley face weren’t there to welcome him.
“Lieutenant McLeary, how may I help you?” Somewhat he remained professional. “I wish to resign from the mission, I’m afraid I am not cut out for it and I feel like I’m taking the place of someone that would be more deserving than… me.” He let out a small sigh. “What guided your decision Lieutenant?” Maverick wasn’t blind, he noticed the constant meanness of Hangman and the fact that you were unusually quiet and sad today.
“My results are too low compared to the others and I feel like my dad’s passing is taking a toll on me right now.” “Come on Y/N-” Maverick got angry which made him lose his seriousness. “I practically raised you. You’re not even going to say the goddamn ass’s name? You’re perfectly cut for this mission as Iceman and I are the one that approved all the candidates. We had the shortest discussion when it came to you and Rooster, it was an automatic yes for you both because we knew that you two are the best of the best. So admit that someone made you take that decision and that your flying performances are not due to your father passing.”
Tears crept to your eyes has you were trying to keep a composed face in front of your superior. “I don’t know what you are talking about Captain. As I told you, my father’s death – although expected – was a great shock for me and I wasn’t ready to let him go.” Maverick sighed to your answer. “Alright, but please, give yourself and everyone one more chance. Come to The Hard Deck tonight with us and see if you change your mind.” “I really don’t think it’s a good idea Captain.” “Please, one last chance, and if anything goes wrong I’ll let you go on the spot and I’ll deal with the admiral myself.” You thought of it a second. What was worst? Having to keep a straight face and lie to the admiral to avoid Hangman being reprimanded or spend the evening with happy people and inevitably ruining their evening with your sadness?
“Alright. An hour and then I’m gone.” Maverick’s face erupted into a soft smile. “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer. Don’t tell anyone.” You couldn’t help but laugh.
That evening you were sat at the bar with Maverick and talking about everything and nothing. “So, are you going to say his name? We’re not at the base, I’m uncle Pete and you’re just Y/N, so tell me what happened.” You sighed deeply. “Ever since that first night here, Hangman has made my life a living hell on the sole reason that he doesn’t accept someone telling him the truth about himself.” “What did you say to him?” “That he was a narcissistic asshole with mommy issues, anger issues and constant need of validation.” “You should have added arrogance and small dick in the mix.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah.” Is your only reply as you drink a gulp of your beer. “I’m gonna go catch some fresh air, I’ll be back in a few.” “Alright I’ll wait for you here.”
As you headed toward the back door – the one that led to the beach – you heard the obnoxious voice of Hangman saying hello to Penny. You rolled your eyes without looking back and pushed the door open.
You’re sat on the sand, facing the ocean, thinking about all the time you wasted here that could have been useful back at your base with the Golden Warriors. You got startled by a voice you knew too well. Yet this time it was soft and comforting. “Do you mind?” You didn’t reply but Jake sat down anyway. Since when did he need permission for anything anyway?
“You know why they call me Hangman?” You stayed silent once more. “It’s because they say that whenever we’re in danger, I’d rather save my own ass and get away from the conflict rather than sticking up to the enemy.” He paused. “But the truth is that I’m the one that fears them leaving me behind. So whenever I have the chance, I’d rather save myself than waiting for someone I trust to leave me to die.” You understood what he meant, yet didn’t say anything.
“Phoenix told me how you were feeling.” You closed your eyes, wanting him to stop talking.
“I don’t want you to die Y/N.” That’s the first time he has ever spoken your name in a nice manner. “I realized I pushed you too far and you shouldn’t feel the way you feel right now. I’ve been there when my mom died when I was little. So yeah, like you said, maybe not having my mother around probably gave me mommy issues and this constant need of validation. I shouldn’t have gotten angry about that. But the truth is, you were probably the first person to say it to my face. And having it said made the whole thing so much more realistic that I just snapped.”
“I’m sorry I did all those things to you, you didn’t deserve any of it. I know I’m never gonna be able to apologize enough for you to forgive me but I want you to know that I’m being genuine. I’m terribly sorry for everything.” He continued.
“I’ve had an appointment with a shrink just before coming here and he made me realize that you were right all along. I’m trying to be the bigger person and facing the reality now. I hope it’ll work. Anyway, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t up to the expectation and I’m sorry I talked about your father.”
The tears came crashing down on the sand but as you didn’t make any noise and it was dark, you suspect Jake hadn’t seen them. “I’m gonna go back, I won’t bother you anymore. I just wanted to be able to tell you everything.” You didn’t answer and he got up. You kept looking at the waves crashing on the sand and Jake leaving left a hole in your heart. The tears kept on coming, blurring your vision. You looked up at the stars, looking for one specific one. The one you always wished on with your father. “Dad, what should I do?” You asked the star.
After about an hour processing Hangman’s words you got up and headed back to the bar, your eyes red from the tears. Maverick noticed them when you sat back down next to him. “Penn!” He said quietly and motioned for her to give you another drink. “Thanks Penn.” He says.
“Is everything okay kiddo?” “I just spoke to my dad. It felt good. Relieving actually.” “And what did he tell you?” “That I should stay and fight to earn back my place.” You answer, eyes locked on the drop of water falling from your beer bottle. “Will you be alright?” “Yeah I think I will.” You look up at him with a small smile. “I think I will.”
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