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#crack!fic
dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
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Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {1}
Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: A little crack!fic as a driver!reader who is Max's little half-sister. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, sibling antics, daddy issues. WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three
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There was nothing that irked you more than being called a Verstappen. Yes, you were Max’s sister, but that was where the relationship with the name ended. Your sperm donor, as you publicly referred to Jos, had never been a part of your life and that was one blessing you were thankful for. 
Somehow the bastard's genetics had won and that stupid racer’s blood ran in your veins. You liked to go fast. Your mother said that you could run before you could walk and the same went for driving. At 17 years old you had your super licence before your drivers licence, making it legal to drive at 200 mph around a circuit with insane corners but not 30 mph on the street.
Something about that seemed…odd.
It was worth it in the end. You could still remember the look on Jos’ face when you signed for Alpha Tauri. Oh, how the bastard had tried to credit himself with your achievement. But there were more similarities that you shared with your half sibling than you were willing to admit. One of those shared traits was brutal honesty. And you had let your honest thoughts fly when Jos opened his mouth.
Three years later the sperm donor was still bitter. He would surely have to get used to it, especially since you had just been named as a Red Bull driver, alongside Max.
Round One - Bahrain 2022 “This is a historical first, siblings racing together on the same team,” Ted Kravitz said as he walked along the pit, stopping outside Red Bull’s garage. “The two Verstappen's will be fighting each other for the Driver Championship, once again, while simultaneously working together to win the Constructors Championship. A very, very exciting season ahead I can already tell.”
You had been pulling your helmet on, about to climb into the RB18 when you heard the comment. The short temper you were well known for flared and you sauntered into the pit lane. “Hey, Ted Crapitz,” you called out as he stood writing in that little notepad of his.
He looked up a little stunned and his eyes darted at the camera that was always following him around. “It’s, uh, Kravitz.”
“Oh, my apologies, I thought it was just normal to make up offensive surnames. No?” you asked as you arched an eyebrow at him. “Because Verstappen isn’t mine, so don’t ever call me that again.”
“S-sorry, my mistake,” he stammered, but you were already shoving your helmet on and grabbing the halo to climb into your car. “A bit of a slap on the wrist for me there.”
You had no doubt that the video would go viral and the comments would call you a bitch but you didn’t care. Jos was a piece of shit and your mother didn’t raise you all on her own, working two jobs to pay for your karting years, just for you to be called a fucking Verstappen.
There was no better feeling than pulling out of the garage and heading to the track. The finely tuned car purred beneath you and you could feel the restrained power of it just waiting for you to pass the pit marker so you could push the throttle and free the beast you had worked hard to control.
“Radio check,” your engineer, Nicholas, ordered through the headset.
“Tell big bro to keep his mouth closed during the race. It can’t be healthy to eat my dust.” 
“Understood.”
The jeroboam size bottle of Ferrari Trento looked enormous in your hands as you shook it up and sprayed Charles and Carlos back after drenching you first. You may have been on the bottom step of the podium but you celebrated as if you had taken 1st place. Turning the bottle on the crowd, you spotted Max at the front with a wide grin on his face as he cheered with the rest of Red Bull. 
It was a little disappointing that he had DNF’d but there was always next week to battle it out again. In the meantime you enjoyed the adrenaline of the podium finish and the image of Jos standing to the side with a face like a slapped ass. It was a feeling you could definitely get used to.
Round Eleven - Great Britain 2022 The leaderboard changed almost every week, flipping like hotcakes between you and Max. It was labelled as sibling rivalry, and for once the media got it right. Though you hadn’t grown up with Max there was an innate need to know who was better, who could push the limits harder and who could get away with it. Some weeks it was you, some weeks it wasn’t. It was all part of the fun. 
Fun. Now that was something that came in spades. The camaraderie that came with the competitiveness was always something you enjoyed moving up from F3 and F2 before reaching F1. With only 19 other people sharing the same experience with you, it was impossible not to grow close to them. 
“Can you let Max in front today?” Lando asked as you walked along the grid. “Please?”
“Why would I do that?” 
“Because he’d rather look at your ass than Max’s, if he can hold third place.” You turned to the other McLaren driver to see a grin splitting the Australian’s face. 
“Aww, Lando, the real English gentleman,” you tutted sarcastically as you pulled your balaclava off your shoulder and snickered when it slapped Lando across the back of his head.
“Unnecessary violence, Spitfire,” he gasped before muttering under his breath, “I know who you get that from.”
A growl pulled back your lips and you punched him none too softly in the bicep, which was a double edged sword because it was far harder than you were expecting and you felt the hit in your knuckles. 
“Oh, Lando, Lando, Lando,” Daniel chuckled as he walked off to his car. “When are you going to learn?”
“You know the car goes faster with less weight,” Lando said as he rubbed his arm.
“Yeah, so?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “All that baggage you carry is weighing you down.”
“Well, that’s just stupid, metaphors weigh nothing...” You pulled your balaclava over your face as you walked from the second row to the front where the two Red Bulls were parked side by side. 
“Hey Lan,” you called out as you turned back with the urge to lighten the mood after he had looked crestfallen. “Don’t get too excited when I warm up my tires, that’s not me shaking my ass for you.”
You could see the corners of his eyes wrinkle with a smile that was hidden by the balaclava he pulled on. “A lad can dream, Spitfire.”
You had earned the nickname of Spitfire from dog-fighting your way to the front of the pack and it was one you were proud of, it certainly beat being called a bitch day in and day out. 
“Just keep it to your dreams, yeah? I’m already paying too much for therapy.”
“You can talk about your daddy issues later,” Max interrupted, tossing your helmet into your waiting hands. “Get in your car, zusje.”
You grinned to yourself as the formation lap began and you started weaving across the track to warm your tires. All Lando would be able to think about was your ass as the rear wing swayed side to side and the thought of made you laugh since you lived to torment the guys on and off the track.
“Radio check.”
“I can’t wait to show everyone the upgrades.”
“Understood.” There was a pause before Nicholas returned. “Uh, you weren’t scheduled for any upgrades.”
Your start was terrible as Max flew away at lights out and then you were nearly clipped in the first turn by Lando, the swerve you took to avoid a collision letting Charles slip straight past.
“DRS activated this lap.”
You passed the starting line on the heels of Charles, Lando close behind but not close enough to use DRS just yet. The Ferrari was quick but he was out of Max’s DRS range and your straight line speed was far superior, it was only a matter of time before you reached the first DRS zone and made your move to overtake. 
“Did you just use indicators?”
You laughed as you hit the buttons on your console before pulling out of the slipstream, the rear wing opened to reduce the drag, and flew past the red car. You hit the new button the electrical engineer had rewired before pulling in front of Charles and laughed as you saw the replay on the big screens around the circuit.
“It’s only polite to indicate when overtaking. Have you never read the road code?”
“I’m more worried about the FIA regulations than the road code.”
“You worry too much, Christian can afford a little fine.”
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“£150,000 for a laugh! Are you taking the mick outta me?”
You tried to keep a serious face as you faced Christian but one look at Max’s amusement had a smile cracking through. 
“No, you don’t get to laugh about this,” Christian snapped, pulling your attention back to him. “You too, Max. It’s like having a couple of fucking children around here.”
“It was nothing to do with me,” Max argued. “I would never pull a stunt like that.”
“You have something on your nose,” you said as you pointed and he wiped at it. “Nope, still brown.”
His lip twitched before he snickered and playfully shoved your shoulder. 
A heavy sigh of disappointment filled the private room in the motorhome and you both looked at Christian. “With Max winning last year we are going to be under even more scrutiny, and this sort of behaviour isn’t going to earn us any favours. Cut the shit out and pay the fucking fine.”
You started to open your mouth to point out the fine was charged to Red Bull not you but a sharp elbow from Max had you clamming your lips closed again. 
“She’ll be better behaved,” Max promised with a glare that warned you to stay silent to save yourself from lying.
“Fine, get out there before the interviews are finished.”
You were never a fan of the post-race interviews but you left Christian’s office like it was lights out, racing ahead of Max to get to the media pit. 
You skidded to a halt at the side of the stage and Charles patted the empty space between him and Lando just as Max arrived. The other space on the couch was at the end beside Lance and you looked at Max with narrowed eyes before making a break for the better seat. Lando had to jump aside as you slammed into the seat just before Max but it didn’t stop him from planting himself on top and you groaned at the weight.
“Second place again, Max Emillian,” you wheezed as you tried to push him off and looked at Charles. “A little help?”
“Sorry, there are universal rules: we can’t interfere with sibling rivalries,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“Arthur’s my favourite Leclerc.”
Max took full advantage while you were distracted, staring daggers at Charles, and shoved you aside to take the cushioned seat with a smarmy grin. “Remember, best behaviour,” he warned as he got comfortable and accepted the microphone handed to you.
He should have known that the challenge couldn’t go unanswered and so you stood up, but you weren’t admitting defeat. His smile fell when you sat down on Lando’s lap, much to everyone’s surprise. 
“Hands off my sister, Norris,” Max quipped, but Lando’s hands were still in the air from where he froze, not knowing what to do with them or where to put them.
“This is quite comfy,” you noted as you wriggled around. “Maybe this can be my spot every week.”
“Fuck, fine,” Max growled as he stood up and walked down the line to sit with Lance. “Take the fucking seat.”
Charles laughed as you slipped into the seat and he held his fist out. “Everytime.”
You bumped his fist and smirked as the interviews finally got underway. “Every damn time.”
Click here for part two.
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mint-yooxgi · 1 year
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For The Hell of It - Ateez X Tall!Chubby!Reader
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Crack!Fic & Idol AU
Genre: Fluff, Humour, Crack
Pairing: Ateez X Reader
Words: 7,178
A/n: So, this was inspired by my own frustrations as both a tall and chubby girl and always seeing indicators about how “small” the reader is compared to the love interest in reader insert fics. It’s time to pin THEM against the wall! They swim in YOUR clothes!! Hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Disclaimer: This fic isn’t meant to ‘call anyone out’ if they use these tropes or do these things the reader rants a bit about to start. This is just me writing out some of my feelings and expression emotions surrounding my own frustrations. If you aren’t tall or chubby, you’re still most definitely welcome to read this! It might put some things into perspective for you, who knows! Also, as a reference, I'm literally as tall as Mingi, so that’s how I pictured heights in this lol there may or may not be smuts to come of this later in the future, but that’s still undecided. ;)
Summary: San finally gets to live out one of his fantasies... yet, so do all of his friends.
A Friday night unlike any other. Well, for the most part. You finally had an evening where all of your schedules lined up, so you agreed to spend the night drinking with the guys. They were all celebrating a successful tour wrapping up, and the start of a month long vacation to rest after their most recent comeback. You, on the other hand, are celebrating a promotion at work, with a generous pay raise to boot.
You’re just happy you can all find jobs that you love, and still find time with each other to spend hanging out. You haven’t been best friends for years for nothing.
“No, I’m serious!” You continue, noticing you have every single one of their gazes transfixed on you right now. “I can’t count the amount of fics I’ve read that someone has sent me where it’s supposed to be a second person point of view, only for it to say some shit like, “you looked up into his eyes” or “character tilted your head up to meet his gaze”. Don’t even get me started on the “swimming in his clothes” trope.”
The way you snort is echoed by both Yeosang and Wooyoung.
“Literally, it’s so annoying when you’re reading something, get almost fully immersed in it, only for the “he towered over your small frame” to get thrown into the mix.” You continue, gesturing at yourself with your hands to emphasize your next point. “Like, what part of me is small?”
You laugh, incredulously, and most of them can only blink at you in shock.
“Listen, if I want to imagine myself, I don’t know, sword fighting with Zoro, I’m definitely going to be eye level with him.” You rant. “I’m literally taller than he is!”
“You read One Piece fanfiction?” Jongho asks, a teasing glint in his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink.
“There is a serious lack of Shanks reader inserts, and I am devastated,” you sigh, shaking your head.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung leans forward, a mischievous quirk to the corner of his lips. “So, then, have you ever read any fanfiction about us?”
Your eyes gleam, “wouldn’t you like to know, loverboy.”
Mingi snorts out a laugh, right alongside Yunho as Wooyoung pouts.
“My one friend sent me a Changbin size kink one once,” you recall, scrunching your nose. “Weirder when you know the person, but like, I’m literally double his size. Was hilarious when my friend tried to explain to me how that was supposed to work when there’s no way in hell he could ever make me feel small.”
“Okay,” Hongjoong leans back onto the couch. “Don’t need to know that.”
“I can’t wait to tell Binnie about this,” Wooyoung cackles, already pulling out his phone to text said male.
“Like, I know it’s not the worst inclusion issue that reader inserts have,” you comment, shaking your head. “Don’t even get me started on the descriptions of skin tone or hair type. Yet, it just gets so frustrating when every fic you read isn’t as inclusive to you as you’ve been lead to believe.”
“Write your own,” Yeosang shrugs, offering a solution.
“I do!” You reply, and you watch as nearly all of their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines. “Though, half of the time it’s easier said than done.”
They nod, seemingly in understanding as you continue to rant.
“Literally, for once I just want to read a fic where the reader pins the guys against the wall.” You take another sip of your drink. “Have him wear my clothes for a change, and see how he swims in my hoodie.”
You fail to notice the way both Seonghwa and Jongho shift slightly in their spots, both swallowing thickly.
“And don’t even get me started on a lot of the chubby reader type fics out there.” You sigh, shaking your head once more. “I’m more than just my insecurities, but that’s all chubby people seem to be known for. Like, I’m fat, not ugly.”
The guys all tip their drinks in acknowledgement at that, agreeing with you wholeheartedly.
“Do you know how venerating it was when Resident Evil Eight came out, and everyone and their mom started simping for Lady Dimitrescu? Confidence boosting to the max. The fics that came out of it were immaculate.” You lift your hands in front of you for emphasis, touching your pointer finger to your thumb.
“Oh yeah, Sannie boy had much to say about her,” Wooyoung teases, and you notice the aforementioned man turn bright red.
“Hey!” He reaches over to hit Wooyoung’s knee harshly.
“Boy wanted to be pinned to the wall so bad he asked me to do it for him,” Yunho chuckles, only causing the younger male’s blush to deepen.
“Did you do it?” You raise a brow, pure mirth dancing on your features.
“No,” Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”
“Neither did I,” Mingi adds, grin stretching across his features and causing his eyes to crinkle at the sides.
You turn to Seonghwa who just shakes his head in response.
“Wow, some friends you are,” you laugh, turning your gaze to a pouting San in the next moment. “Still want to be pinned to a wall?”
Suddenly, he can no longer meet your gaze, embarrassed sputters escaping his lips. Yet, he doesn’t deny it.
“Wait, have none of you ever been pinned to a wall?” You look around, seeing as they all shake their heads in response. “Received a kabedon by someone you like?” More denials fall from their lips. “Then, I’m assuming you’ve never been lifted against a wall, either?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Jongho grumbles, lips tugging downwards in the corners as if the thought greatly distresses him.
“Seriously, you guys are missing out.” You take a sip of your drink. “Though, can’t say that I have, either. In fiction, though, apparently I’m a goddamn feather.”
A brief moment of silence passes over all of you as you collectively take sips of your drinks. Then, you’re turning to look at San.
“Do you still want to be pinned to the wall?” Your brow quirks as you ask him this for the second time, noticing how more than just San shifts slightly in his spot.
He averts his gaze, suddenly finding the coffee table between you the most fascinating thing. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” you stand, stretching your back out as you do so. “Let’s go.”
His head immediately raises to look at you, mild shock pulling at his features. It’s most apparent in the slight way his eyes widen, lips parting as he meets your gaze.
“I’ll pin you to a wall if you want,” you shrug stepping out of the sitting area and cracking your neck. “I am taller than you, and as long as you’re okay with it-“
“No fair! How come San is the only one that gets to be pinned to a wall by you?” Wooyoung complains, quite loudly at that.
“Oh, my offer is open to all of you,” you huff out an amused laugh. “If you want.”
The way you see them all straighten has the grin on your lips widening.
“I can’t promise I’m who you want to pin you, but just picture it’s someone else if you’d like.” You shrug. “But I’m willing if you are.”
Wooyoung physically hops off of the couch before attempting to male his way over to you. Only, he gets harshly pulled back down into his spot by Yeosang in the next moment.
You quirk a brow.
“The offer was for San first,” Yeosang grumbles, and though he tries to hide it, his cheeks begin turning the slightest bit darker as a blush dusts his features.
“So,” you trail off, tilting your head slightly to the side, “is that a ‘yes’?”
Both Yunho and Hongjoong quirk their bros at you, while Wooyoung nods eagerly. At the way Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi blush, you know you have them, too.
“Well, if you’re offering,” Jongho shrugs, tossing the remaining contents of his drink back as he settles fully into the couch.
Wordlessly, Mingi pours him another one.
“Make it sound like I’m forcing you, why don’t you,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Just say you don’t want to do it. You don’t have to give in to peer pressure, bubs.”
“Oh no, I’d love to see this.” Jongho grins, a sudden gleam to his eyes.
“Well, I’m first!” San immediately pops up onto his feet.
You grin, “someone really is eager.”
“It’s only been the biggest fantasy of his for-“
A hand gets clamped over Wooyoung’s mouth curtesy of Yeosang.
If your eyes could go any wider, you swear that they’d fall right out of your head.
“How do you want me?” San asks, moving beside you near the wall.
“Those are dangerous words, Sannie boy,” you smirk, turning fully to face him and noticing how he glances up into your eyes. “This is all about your comfortability though. The second you want space, or anything, you let me know. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods his understanding.
“Do you want a full immersive experience, or just what you signed up for?” You ask, taking a step towards him while he takes one back.
The sudden dark look in your eyes makes his lips part, excitement strumming through his veins. At the way you quirk a brow at him, he realizes he still has yet to answer you.
“Uh,” how is his brain already this fuzzy when you haven’t even done anything to him yet? You’ve been close before, San clinging to you more often than not. However, it’s just so much different when he’s on the receiving end for once. So much more intense.
“Immersive! Immersive! Immersive!” Wooyoung begins to chant, followed shortly by both Mingi and Yunho. Even Seonghwa cannot help but to lowly add in his voice to the chanting.
San swallows, licking his lips. “Immersive.”
A cheer rising up from the other males in the room greets your ears, and it only serves to boost your ego for the moment.
Again, you quirk a brow. “Ready?”
A nod is all the confirmation you get before you’re bringing a hand up to firmly press it against the wall beside his head. The sound of your palm making contact is synonymous with the way his breath hitches as he watches you lean into him.
Slowly, you bring your opposite hand up to rest your fingers lightly against his chin. Your eyes hood over as you lift his head to make sure he’s staring deeply into your gaze.
You shift closer, the corner of your lips quirking upwards.
San’s breathing deepens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again thickly. Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips. A fact of which, you seem to notice.
“Quite a different feeling when you’re on the receiving end, huh, Sannie?” You lean in, breath ticking the shell of his ear.
A shudder wracks his entire body, goosebumps trailing up his arms as his chest just brushes against your own with each breath he takes. His lips clamp shut, suppressing the moan that wants to escape him.
“Do you want to wrap your leg around-“
The question hasn’t even finished leaving your mouth when you feel him lift his left leg to loop it around your side. Your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh, and you can physically feel the way he trembles within your touch.
A chorus of ‘oh’s echoes behind you.
“Shut up!” San snaps, turning his head to glare at his group mates.
Unfortunately for him, the movement causes you to drop his leg, backing off of him shortly after.
San’s lucky to turn back around to face the others the moment you move off of him, for you fail to see the way he slaps the sides of his cheeks with both hands. The way he can feel his skin continuing to heat beneath his own touch only adds to the fire burning within his soul from these turn of events.
He knows you said he could picture anybody pinning him, but the fact that it was you somehow made it so much more intense. It was - you are - perfect in every way, and this has just made him realize that. How could you fit together so easily, like this was a position you had always been meant to be in with him?
The worst part is, it’s over, and he may never get to experience this type of euphoria again.
“Alright, who’s next?” You turn to the remaining males, not noticing the crisis San seems to be having against the wall behind you.
“Oh, me, me!” Wooyoung, again, eagerly pops up from the couch, only to be dragged back down by Jongho this time.
“I’ll go,” Yunho surprises you by standing to his feet. At the curious looks both Hongjoong and Yeosang send him, he’s shrugging. “What? I’m intrigued.”
“Alright, Beanpole,” you motion him over using two fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. “You’re next.”
He mumbles slightly under his breath about you calling him ‘Beanpole’ again, stating how you’re no different, seeing as you’re practically eye-level with him. Though, with the way he eagerly steps over Mingi who still rests on the floor, you can tell he’s attempting to maintain his composure for now.
Finally, San walks back to his spot beside Seonghwa, almost as if in a daze. Only when the elder male pats the younger on the shoulder does he seemingly snap out of it. In the next moment, San sits back on the ground, pulling a pillow over his lap as he leans forward.
“If my back gives out, you guys are paying for my medical bills,” you casually comment, turning towards Yunho who leans against the wall.
“Are you planning to lift us?” Hongjoong asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Possibly,” you shrug. “Depends on if you want the full immersive experience or not. I’ve got ideas for all of you.”
“Oh, so you’ve thought about this before?” Yunho’s familiar smug grin begins to pull at his features.
“Not necessarily,” you hum. “It’s just more interesting this way.”
“Then, please,” he meets your gaze, “immerse me.”
The moment those words escape his lips, you’re in front of him. Your hands gently grab his waist, before stepping directly into him. Your brow quirks just as you hear his breath hitch.
“When I tell you to jump, jump.” You say, a playful gleam shining in your eyes.
He nods.
“Jump.” 
The moment your hands settle on the skin of his thighs, you press yourself fully against him. The way your chest feels rising and falling against his own sets his heart fluttering in his chest. Not to mention the way you quite literally have him pinned against the wall in your arms. 
His eyes are wide, breath hitching in his throat as the full reality of the situation comes crashing down upon him. Never has he imagined that he could be the one being held against the wall like this. The way your eyes shine as they continue to stare into his own only make it that much more intense.
Yunho swallows as he hears you giggle. 
Shit, he really wasn’t prepared for this.
“What’s the matter, Yuyu?” You tease, breath tickling the skin of his neck as you lean into him. “Tall girl caught your tongue?”
A few hoots and hollers are heard from the others as Yunho’s ears turn bright red. His lips part in answer, but no words escape him, too immersed in the feeling of your warm, plush body pressing against his own. The way that you’re suddenly slightly even taller than before as you hold him against the wall, his legs wrapped around your waist, has a pleasant shiver running down his spine.
A moment later, and you’re dropping his legs back to the floor.
You smile, patting the side of his gobsmacked face gently. “There ya go, beanpole. Now you know what it’s like.”
Turning around, you see Mingi practically rush to his feet. “Me next.”
You chuckle at his eagerness as Yunho slowly walks back to his spot, caught in a trance.
Just as San was before him, Yunho cannot help but marvel at the feeling of having you pin him to the wall. He never really thought about it before, and it was simply to sate that curiosity in his mind, but the fact that it was you, and that he enjoyed it immensely because it was you, is making his head spin.
He swallows thickly.
“Come on, Big Boy,” you extend your hand out to Mingi in offering, to which he gladly takes.
A giddy smile rests on his features as you guide him over to the wall. The eagerness you can sense radiating off of him is contagious, and you cannot help but to mirror his expression.
Your lips part in question, but Mingi beats you to it.
“Immersive.” He confirms with a firm nod, only causing you to chuckle lightly in response.
“I think it’s safe to say we all want the immersive experience right now,” Seonghwa voices, and you spare a glance back at the group to see all of them eagerly nodding at you.
“And here I thought I was touch starved,” you joke, a giggle to your words.
“Hey!” Wooyoung complains. “When you have a pretty lady offering to pin you to the wall, call us, and then see how you feel.”
Compliments from them, especially Wooyoung, are not unusual. However, something about this time feels different when he says this. Perhaps it’s the way he never breaks eye contact with you, or perhaps it’s the way you can just feel how sincere his words are. Still, it shocks you to your core.
You let out an amused puff, turning back to face the male trembling in excitement against the wall.
“Woah, there, Big Boy,” you grin. “Don’t be turning full Chihuahua on me.”
“Oh, leave the poor man alone,” Hongjoong joins in on the teasing. “He’s just excited.”
“It’s not like I’m giving him a lap dance.” You chuckle, stepping in closer as you watch Mingi’s face turn a bright red.
“Are you offering?” Wooyoung sounds just a tad too hopeful.
“Don’t even joke about that, Woo,” San throws the pillow in his lap at his friend.
“Yeah, cause you probably wouldn’t be able to hide your boner next time.” Yeosang deadpans.
A beat of silence.
Laughter erupts throughout the room as San turns bright red once more, stuttering out denials all the while. 
“You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn!” He shouts, pulling his knees up to his chest as a pout pulls at his lips.
“Hey, no judgement here,” you grin, raising your hand nonchalantly in his direction. “Huge confidence boost when knowing you can turn someone on like that.”
San sticks his tongue out in Wooyoung’s direction as if to say, ‘so, there.’ 
You chuckle once more, taking the time to casually lean against the wall right beside Mingi using your one hand. The way you see his whole body freeze for a moment as his breath gets caught in his throat has a smug grin pulling at your features.
“By the way, are we still on for movie night next week?” You ask casually, completely ignoring the male beside you for the moment.
“I swear, if you make us marathon Star Wars again,” Hongjoong jokingly turns to glare at Seonghwa.
“Oh, give the guy a break,” you comment. “It’s his favourite series.”
“Have you seen the new Lego Death Star that just came out?” His eyes light up, looking around hopefully at each of the males scattered around the room.
Yunho nods, somewhat aware of what the elder male is talking about as the topic of Legos is discussed.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Mingi finally calming down. Though, the slight pout that pulls onto his features has you leaning in to his ear.
“Don’t worry, Min, I haven’t forgotten about you,” you whisper, lips but a hairsbreadth from his ear. He shivers again, and you smirk. “Immersive, remember?”
In the blink of an eye, you’ve shifted your position to stand directly in front of the male. Your head is still buried in his neck, nose barely brushing against his skin as his breath hitches once more. Again, your hands settle on his hips as you lean into him, and he swears he can feel you smirking against the side of his throat.
The room goes silent, watching the scene unfold before them. The others seem just as caught off guard as Mingi is by your sudden shift in position.
Yet, why are Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong suddenly all feeling jealous?
You pull away form Mingi’s neck only to move in impossibly closer. Your one leg slips between his own, nose brushing against his as the corner of your lips tugs upwards. In the next moment, you’re lifting a hand to cup the side of his face.
The way your thumb tenderly strokes along his cheekbone as you step away mirrors how your touch fades from his skin. A fact of which he doesn’t like all that much, body attempting to follow yours as you pull away.
“Someone likes attention more than I thought,” your voice is light, a teasing glint to your eyes as Mingi begins stuttering before you.
“You can’t blame the man,” Jongho takes another sip of his drink. “You’re acting hella intimate with us all of a sudden.”
“I said immersive, remember,” you playfully wink at the youngest, noticing how he hides the lower half of his face behind his glass in the next second. “If you don’t want it, I won’t do it. I told you, I’m not trying to make any of you uncomfortable.”
“Well, more for me, then,” this time when Wooyoung stands up, neither Jongho nor Yeosang stops him. “Make it as immersive as you’d like, Darling.”
“As long as you can handle it, Baby Boy,” the moment the words slip passed your lips, a chorus of ‘oh’s reach your ears again.
Just as Wooyoung happily bounds over to you, you notice Mingi trudging back over to his spot on the floor.
Mingi cannot help himself. He’s distracted, mind reeling with the revelations of the past events that he’s just experienced. The only problem is, now, he wants more. He wants you to hold him against the wall like you did Yunho. He wants you lean into him again, just like you did with San. Only this time, he wants to feel your lips on his own.
He shakes his head. What is he thinking? You’re one of their closest friends. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the other ways that you can pin him, and then how he can pin you to the wall. Perhaps, even to the bed…
“Oh, this is going to be good,” San shifts forward, eagerly watching as his best friend finally gets to experience what he did only a short while ago.
Wooyoung is eager. In fact, he’s the most visibly eager out of all of them so far. Well, that you can tell. He even goes so far as to reach out for you, back not quite pressed against the wall.
Before he can so much as touch you, though, you have his wrists in your hands, pinning him to the wall. You lean into him, body towering over his smaller frame as a choked moan manages to escapes his lips. From the way red begins to creep up his neck, you know that he did not mean for that to come out so suddenly.
“Did I say you could touch me?” Your voice lowers, head tilting to the side almost mockingly.
His eyes go wide, and you’re surprised how willingly he shakes his head ‘no’.
The corner of your lips raise. “Good boy.”
This time, the moan that escapes him is much louder than the first. You watch on in amusement as he begins squirming beneath your hold, hips shifting slightly against the wall as you keep the lower half of your body distanced from his. He whines slightly when he realizes you aren’t budging.
Behind you, the rest of the guy’s jaws drop.
“You were just waiting for this, weren’t you?” You hum lowly, feigning concern for his current state. “Desperately wanting someone to hold you like this against the wall?”
Wooyoung bites down on his bottom lip, nodding shamelessly.
You step in closer, and you can physically feel how his body melts into yours. You lean into his neck, lips ghosting the skin just below his ear. “Good boy.”
The moment you back away from him, Wooyoung lets out a whine in protest. As soon as you release your hold on his wrists, he reaches for you, but you easily dodge his hands. A chuckle falls from your lips as you see him pout.
“So,” Hongjoong’s voice draws your attention to his smirking features across the room, “you’re a domme.”
“What was your first clue?” You quirk a brow back at him, amusement dancing in your eyes. In the next second, you shake your head, noticing how Wooyoung begins to walk back to his spot in a haze, that pout still tugging on his lips. “When I want to be, I can do both. Not that any of you will get to experience either.”
“Not that we’d want to,” Jongho rolls his eyes playfully.
You point in his direction, “hurtful.”
“Never say never,” Seonghwa breathes, seemingly lost in his own world for the moment.
Your brow raises, mild surprise painting your features as he seemingly comes back to reality. The tips of his ears begin to go red once he’s realized what he’s just said.
“Well, I think our eldest here should go next, then.” Yunho claps the male on his shoulder, giving him a firm shove forward all the while.
“Yeah, come on, Hwa,” San encourages, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “It’s much more fun than it looks.”
“It looked to me like you were having a lot of fun, there, San,” Seonghwa’s eyes sharpen slightly as he pushes himself to his feet.
“I can’t watch,” Yeosang shakes his head playfully, standing to his feet and heading down your hallway in the next second.
Your eyes follow the movement, amusement shining within.
Seonghwa stepping towards you draws your attention.
“I’ve never been a fan of getting pinned to a wall.” He states, somewhat bluntly.
“I don’t have to pin you to the wall, you know.” You grin, nudging his shoulder lightly with your own.
“I thought the whole point of this was to ‘show us what it feels like’,” Jongho comments, placing his now empty glass onto the coffee table before him.
“There are other ways to encapsulate the same types of feelings,” you reply, placing a gentle hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder.
“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He raises a brow curiously at you.
“Wrap your arms around my shoulders,” you begin, already moving to lean into him to prepare yourself for what you’re going to do. “I’ve seen videos of you guys doing this with each other, but,” you shrug briefly, “context.”
Seonghwa’s brow furrows, but he still does what you ask of him.
The moment you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re bending down and lifting him into your arms.
“Oh, Jesus, I wasn’t prepared,” you wobble slightly, now carrying him bridal style in your grasp. “How the fuck do you guys make this look so easy.”
“Are you saying I’m heavy?” Seonghwa pouts, resting quite comfortably in your arms for the moment.
“No, I’m saying I’m surprised my noodle arms haven’t given out on me yet without the wall for support.” You reply, a slight chuckle to your words.
“Should we start preparing those medical bills of yours?” Hongjoong teases, though you notice there’s a certain glint in his eyes that has never been there before. Well, not that you’ve ever noticed. A glint that has only appeared due to the fact that he’s witnessing you be so close with the others. Others that aren’t him.
“Hey, can I borrow a sweater?” Yeosang calls from down the hallway. “I’m cold.”
“Go for it!” You call back, shifting your hold on Seonghwa slightly as he peers out at the rest of the guys while still held in your arms.
“You know, you’re right,” he hums, nuzzling himself deeper into you. “This is quite nice.”
“It’s the old ‘Uno reverse card’,” you chuckle, setting him back onto his feet just as Yeosang comes meandering back into the room. “You don’t realize you want it until it’s happened to you.”
Yeosang stops just beside you, blinking at the way Seonghwa slowly returns to his spot. The way the eldest glances almost longingly back at you from over his shoulder while doing so does not go unnoticed by any.
Turning your head, you finally notice that Yeosang has opted to clothe himself in one of your largest hoodies. The material quite literally drowns him, the hem reaching the middle of his thighs.
“Now, this is what I’m talking about,” you motion to Yeosang’s body, nodding approvingly.
“Yeah, yeah, we all know you like Yeosang,” San rolls his eyes, cheeks puffing slightly as he rests his chin on his knees.
“First of all, I like all of you,” you reply, a playful snort escaping you as you smile. “No, I meant the clothing difference. This is what ‘swimming in their clothes’ means. It’s nice to be on the receiving end instead.”
“But you’re not the one wearing the clothes?” Mingi’s brow furrows, confusion shining on his features.
“You know what I mean,” you wave him off. “Literally, I can understand certain size kink fics now where the character fucks their love interest in their hoodie, and nothing but their hoodie.”
“Are you saying you want to fuck me in nothing but your hoodie?” Yeosang quirks a brow, a wide grin tugging at his features.
“Depends,” you hum in response, and you watch as Hongjoong spits out his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second.
“On?” He tilts his head curiously, blinking innocently.
“You wanna wear my thigh highs, too?” The way you see his eyes nearly bulge out of his head at your words has all of you bursting into laughter.
However, what you fail to see is how Yeosang goes quiet, cheeks flaring with colour.
“Well, this is certainly a game of truth or dare I never expected to get into.” Wooyoung cackles, tossing another drink back.
“I think we’re learning more about your interests tonight than in all of the years we’ve known you.” Yunho laughs, leaning back in his chair.
“You’ve never asked,” you shrug his words off casually, mirth dancing within your eyes.
“Who’s turn is it, anyways?” Yeosang grumbles, hiding his hands deep within the sleeves of your sweater.
“Yours.” Your response causes another round of heat to spread across his cheeks.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Wooyoung nudging Jongho beside him. A male of which is clearly annoyed by the elder’s actions, but who nudges back, nonetheless.
“I don’t know how I feel about being pinned to a wall,” he raises his hands in front of himself in caution, backing away from you slowly. 
The way his hands are hidden by the long sleeves of your sweater has you smiling lightly.
“If you don’t want me to, that’s quite alright,” you reply with a nod in understanding. “Like I said, I’m not about to force you guys into something you don’t want.”
“Oh, believe me,” Wooyoung chuckles, hiding somewhat behind Jongho as Yeosang takes a threatening step towards the younger male in warning. “He wants it.”
“I’ll believe it when he says it,” you tilt your head in acknowledgment in Yeosang’s direction, meeting his gaze once more.
The room goes silent, all of you turning to look at Yeosang once more.
“Uh,” he blinks, turning to look at any one of the other guys for help. Only, the way they simply watch on in glee lets him know they’re not going to do anything.
“Welp,” you turn back to the seven guys seated around your living room. “Maknae, leader, which one of you is next?”
“I’ll do it.” Yeosang’s voice from behind you draws your attention to him once more.
“Oh?” The smug grin on your face says it all, and he swallows thickly.
“Not against the wall, though.” He replies.
“That’s fine,” you reply with a nod, walking closer to him in your next breath.
You motion him closer, and he steps into you quite eagerly. Though, he does attempt to hide it, he doesn’t do a very good job.
“When I tell you to jump, jump into me,” you whisper lowly into his ear, and the way you feel him shiver as you lean away from him has that familiar smirk tugging at your lips. “Jump.”
Yeosang hesitates only a moment before quite literally leaping into your embrace. Your hands come to settle on his thighs, pulling him closer into you as he wraps his arms around your neck.
“Kind of different when you’re on the other end, isn’t it?” You smile, eyes crinkling as you watch him nod, somewhat amazed for the moment.
The way you can feel him tighten his legs around your waist has you chuckling, turning back around to face the other guys.
“This is… different than I thought it would be,” he mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he buried his face into the side of your neck. “It’s quite nice.”
The way you raise you eyebrows in agreement says it all, that same knowing look shining on your features. 
Slowly, you lower Yeosang back to his feet, but he doesn’t release his hold from around your shoulders. Of course, you lean down slightly, allowing him to embrace you for as long as he wants.
“Another perk to it is simple things, like hugs.” You say, just as Yeosang finally pulls away from you.
Of course, you notice how he avoids your gaze now as he walks back to his spot on the couch.
“What do you mean?” Mingi inquires, knocking back the rest of his drink shortly after.
“Chest height.” You shrug, to which he immediately starts coughing at your answer. “What? You’re telling me you wouldn’t take full advantage of burying your face in your significant other’s chest if you could?”
You notice the gears in San’s head turning, before a devious look is shining in his gaze. “Does that mean I can have a hug, then?”
He starts to move, only for Hongjoong to reach over and quite harshly tug him back to the ground.
“Ow,” San begins to rub at his ass. “The fuck was that for.”
“You’re not as slick as you think you are,” Jongho rolls his eyes, standing up from the couch next.
“She didn’t deny it!” San counters, pointing in your direction all the while.
You shrug, “maybe next time.”
The way they all turn to look at you, eyes full of both mild surprise, but also excitement has you chuckling in response.
“If that excites you, you guys should all really try thigh riding,” you joke, and you notice how Jongho stumbles over his own two feet just before reaching you. “Oh, someone’s eager.”
“Shut up.” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall closest to you with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that a challenge?” You quirk a brow, turning fully towards him now as you take a step forward.
“I doubt you’re up for it,” he quips, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.
“You’re right,” you smirk, hand landing right beside his head as you lean into him. The way his breath hitches has your voice dropping slightly. “I’ve never really liked brats, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for taming one.”
A mixture of loud, boisterous laughter, and pointed ‘oh’s can be heard from the others around you.
You huff, clearly amused by how silent Jongho gets. His arms fall to his sides as you step in closer, noticing how red begins to creep up his neck as he attempts to maintain his composure.
“What’s the matter, Baby Bear?” You feign concern, your nose brushing against his neck as you lean further into him. “All bark, and no bite?” He shivers as your breath caresses his skin. “Pity.”
His one hand moves to grab your hip, but you’re much quicker.
In the blink of an eye, you have his wrist pinned against the wall, your one leg sliding between his own.
“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you,” with the way your head tilts and the angle you find yourself in, you manage to be looking up at him through your lashes. 
Jongho has never felt smaller in his entire life. The position he finds himself in with you, combined with your words and the way your looking at him has him melting into your touch. So, when his body sinks slightly, allowing himself to rest on top of your thigh between his own, you let him.
The worst part for him, though, is when you pull away.
Jongho just manages to catch himself before he stumbles forward, not expecting you to release him so suddenly. He can only stand there, staring intently at the floor for a good thirty seconds in order to compose himself as you turn back to the other guys.
“Goddammit,” he curses lowly. “How are you so good at this?”
You giggle, and the sound fills the room with a vibrance unlike anything before. Yet, why are their hearts suddenly racing?
“It’s nothing more than the shock of your first time experiencing something like this, probably,” you shrug him off, proud smile pulling at your features. “Or you’re all just secretly in love with me.”
This time, it’s Seonghwa who spits out his drink in response, choking on his breath soon afterwards. Comfortingly, Yunho pats his upper back.
“I’m just playing,” you chuckle, arms crossed loosely over your chest as you shake your head.
“Seriously, you were right,” Wooyoung voices, staring directly at you while Jongho slowly moves back to his seat. “I never knew I needed this until now.”
“San was right to want this,” Yeosang corrects, shooting a brief look at the aforementioned male out of the corner of his eyes.
“I’m glad I could be of service,” you salute lightheartedly, two fingers pressing to the side of your forehead before letting out a small click of your tongue as you flick your wrist.
“Hang on, you’re not done yet.” Hongjoong stands to his feet, and immediately, there’s a sudden tension that fills the room.
“Never said that I was, Captain,” you wink playfully, and you almost miss the way he loses his footing just as he steps over Mingi for the moment. Though, you chalk that up to him simply misplacing his balance.
The moment he steps before you, a silence unlike ever before fills the room. All of the guys watch on eagerly to see what you have planned for their leader, and just how he will react to it, too.
“So, I take it you want the immersive experience?” You quirk a brow teasingly.
“Give me everything you’ve got,” he replies, breathlessly.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that, yet, mister,” you poke his upper chest lightly, noticing how he tilts his head upwards slightly to meet your gaze.
“We’ll save that for later, then,” he grins, noticing how you slowly begin to back him up into the wall.
“Who said there will ever be a later?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you watch him lightly hit the wall behind him.
His breath hitches as he looks up at you through his lashes, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly.
“I just did.”
This time, when you place your hand beside his head, it’s slow. The movements are precise, keeping your arm straight for the moment as you casually lean into him.
“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow. “What makes you so sure that I’ll agree?”
Hongjoong smirks, his one eyebrow twitching upwards slightly. “I’m positive you’re just as curious as I am.”
“Am I?” You hum, taking a step in closer to him and noticing how his breathing deepens. “Curious of what? Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Joong?”
The way you say his name, your lips curving around the one syllable, is like music to his ears. He cannot stop himself, he goes to reach for you, a shameless whine getting caught in his throat.
Like every time before, you’re quicker. Only, this time, instead of pinning his wrist to the wall beside his head, you raise it, holding it above him as you lean over his entire body.
“You boys are very touchy tonight,” you tut, shaking your head as you lean the slightest bit more into him.
“Can you blame us?” He replies, staring up into your eyes. “This is the first time we’ve experienced a temptation like this before.”
The room remains deadly silent, as if the other seven are fully agreeing with the words Hongjoong is speaking to you right now.
“Yes, the heat of the moment can do that to people,” you chuckle, stepping the slightest bit closer to him so that he can feel your body heat against his own.
It’s slight, but you feel him arch forward in your grip, pressing his body flush against your own.
“We both know it’s more than just that,” his tone is low, sultry as he melts into your touch.
The corner of your lip quirks upwards smugly, pushing him flush against the wall.
“Is it really?” You feign innocence, leaning in to press your forehead against his own. Your noses brush. “I guess we’ll never know.”
In the blink of an eye, you’ve stepped away from him, releasing his wrist and letting it fall back to his side.
“Well, that was fun!” You chirp, completely unaware of how Hongjoong’s dark gaze never leaves your figure even for a second as you move to finally return to your own spot. 
He licks his lips, clearing his throat lightly. Taking a step back towards the seating area, he blinks, refocussing his vision. The sound of laughter reaches his ears, and you all continue on as if nothing happened.
Yet, how can they just act like nothing happened when you’ve fulfilled desires within them that they didn’t even know that they had? This has certainly made them all change the way they view things, especially the way they see you.
All that they do know, is that now, they want you. In ways more than just a friend should.
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ivymarquis · 11 months
Text
The B.A.G. Coalition
Did I use one of my work breaks on my 14hr shift to write this? Yes, yes I did. I also took time out of my day to make sure my introduction to the COD MWII fandom was a crack!fic despite promising angst with Ghost and simping from Price. Both of which are still coming.
Tags; platonic 141 + Reader, crack fic, drinking, weaponization of barrack bunnies, dunking on Graves.
I don’t know how the military works and I don’t care to learn.
You try really, really hard to not fixate too much on the whole being a woman in the boy’s club thing because you’ll drive yourself insane if you do.
You’re good at your job, you’re not getting preferential treatment, and all is right in the world. Your team was cautious, gauging your capabilities but ultimately warming up to you and welcoming you into the fold.
A mission planned with 141 and Shadow company means that Graves is a tolerated interloper into the group.
Everyone is settled into a booth in the corner of a pub near base, a few drinks in as the night wears on. You are finally feeling settled in and like your feet are firmly underneath you and you’re no longer treading water, watching your back as the other 141 assess you.
And it’s the exact moment when Graves asks “Are you seeing anybody?” that you realize you’ve girlbossed entirely too close to the fucking sun.
The table’s reaction is immediate. Your “I beg your pardon?” is muffled by Ghost’s “Sod off, Graves,” Soap’s “She’s been fucking drinking” and Gaz shooting him a look while Price clears his throat with a pointed “Commander?”
Good to know your team has your back because what the fuck.
“Not like that,” you’re not entirely certain if he’s back peddling or being genuine, “I don’t know what it is but none of the women around this base date. It’s like pulling teeth.”
“Really?” Gaz asks. “I haven’t been having any issues.”
Your eyebrow arches, reaching for your drink as you realize there’s not enough alcohol in the world for this conversation. “Yeah no ever since the B.A.G. Coalition was formed, you’re gonna have to download Tinder or something, Commander” You speak without thinking, a look of horror dawning on you that the alcohol has loosened your lips a little too much. Well, shit.
“The what?” Graves asks incredulously.
You panic, reflex having you turn towards Price. “Please get me out of here,” you plead with him.
“Oh no can do, Sergeant.”
You cling to your glass like a buoy. “I’ve said too much,” you whisper.
“What the hell is the B.A.G. Coalition?” Graves asks again.
Taking a long draught of your drink, you steel yourself for both this conversation and the potential wrath of the bunnies now the open secret was out.
“Have you… noticed how the barrack bunnies don’t have anything to do with you?”
His eyebrows draw together. “Guess I never bothered to worry about it. Not like they’re hard to find,”
That last sentence had some teeth to it that you did not appreciate. Especially coming from a man who’s managed to piss off an entire base of them. “Hey now, I love the bunnies, you gotta be nice to them,” you admonish before remembering yourself and quickly adding a “Sir”.
The alcohol has your mind drifting away from the question at hand and going slightly to the left- still focused on the bunnies, but no longer directly leading to the coalition.
“They do important work and make my life easier when some guy is being obnoxious and won’t leave me alone,” you elaborate. “Also most of them are really nice and I don’t blame them for having a type and staying focused on it. I admire the commitment and tenacity.”
“Wait who was bothering you?” Price would hone in on that part.
“No one anymore, after I weaponized one of the bunnies and pointed her in his direction.”
“You…. Weaponized a barrack bunny?” Soap sounded out the idea, clearly having some image of a tactical assault bunny in mind.
“Yes I did. It was absolutely incredible. Poor guy never saw her coming- it was like watching a lioness take down a wounded gazelle.”
“A bunny battalion,” Gaz sighs into his drink, his pupils damn near in the shape of hearts at whatever image his brain was conjuring.
“What the fuck do barrack bunnies have to do with this coalition you’re talking about,” Graves tries to redirect the question.
Shit. Right.
Like, you get why he’s confused. From his perspective at least. Tall, blonde, conventionally attractive with a southern drawl most girls would go gaga over, not to mention the commander of Shadow Company. He should be having women chase him from all over. And here he was with no bitches and getting zero play.
And yet none of those attributes were actually indicative of him like… being a good person. Graves soured you like 3 day old sweet tea. There was something both saccharine and bitter about him all wrapped together even if you didn’t know for sure what the problem was.
“You did something to piss off the bunnies. I don’t know what and frankly I'm afraid to ask. Like, I thought maybe some supreme pick me bunny would rise from the ranks and make her move anyway but they have made a united front. It is both impressive and terrifying,” you’ve got just enough alcohol in your system that fuck it, let’s tell a superior officer a little something about himself that he clearly doesn’t know. “And the rest of us noticed. So it slowed the not-bunnies rolls too.”
There’s a beat of silence before the lightbulb clicks in Ghost’s head and he is busting out laughing. You don’t think you’ve heard him ever make that much noise even when he’s grousing out orders.
Gaz is the next one for the lightbulb to go off, verbalizing what B.A.G. stood for to a stupified Commander (and equally stunned Soap and Price).
“It’s Bunnies Against Graves!”
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deepdisireslonging · 4 months
Text
No Cum November Part 10: Good Vibrations
The boy’s teasing of the reader comes to a screeching halt when they get a visitor on a case.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester
Warnings/Promises: public use of toy, edging, Castiel sighting
Word Count: 620
Note: No actual smut in this one, but it’s funny. This one brings me so much joy, lol. Only one last chapter for this series. Let me know how you’ve enjoyed it with comments and reblogs! Happy reading:
Part 9: On the King’s Blade (King of Hell!Sam)
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With the end of the month just a few days away, you were desperate. The boys had taken such good care of you, giving you so much pleasure. But that also made this “no cum November” such a challenge. And they weren’t about to let up now. If anything, they were ramping up.
Sam promised a rest after one more case.
Dean said it was a quick check-in with some fellow hunters.
To their credit, it was moving quickly. But their teasing was making this case feel like it was going to take eons.
Asking the witness another question, Dean slid his hand into his pocket. You were too busy taking notes to notice. Until the toy inside you started buzzing.
You sucked in a breath. Closing your eyes, you steadied your nerves. When the witness gave you a questioning look, you lightly rubbed your nose. “Sorry. Almost sneezed. Late seasonal allergies.”
They nodded and continued answering questions. Dean eventually turned off the toy, giving you a respite. Then Sam walked up. He scrolled over the “notes” from the last witness on his phone. The nipple clamps hidden under your shirt activated. Thankfully, your blazer hid your stiffened nipples.
They continued back and forth, sometimes overlapping, until they had talked to everyone they wanted to. Only then did both toys turn off. Sam placed his hand on your lower back and guided you to the car. The backseat doors were barely closed before you were clawing at his belt buckle.
He gripped your wrists and held them back. “Nuh-uh, we’ve left you kind of alone in this challenge. So, for the last few days, we’re joining you. No cumming for us either.”
“But,” you pouted, “it’s not a real challenge is I don’t get to touch you like you guys touched me.”
Dean laughed in the front seat. “That’s- that’s a good point. But can we at least get to the hotel before you start stripping a federal officer in the backseat?”
With a humph, you sat back. A few minutes later, you cried out as Dean drove past the motel. “Hey-“
“Hungry. One more stop.”
At the corner diner, Dean walked behind you. He caught your hips and whispered in your ear, “we also need a break. If you got your hands on us now…” He tugged you back into his crotch. His hard-on pressed thickly into your backside. “Sweetheart, we’d bust.”
That didn’t keep them continuing their game in the booth while you ordered. You were two seconds away from a panting mess when another person appeared in the booth.
“Cas!” Dean held a hand to his chest. “Don’t do that.”
His eyes glittered with amusement. But then he squinted. And turned to face you.
“Don’t scan me,” you said, pointing a finger at him. “Just don’t. I’m fine.”
He didn’t. He scanned Sam. “Are you hunting a witch or something? Are you cursed?”
Sam sputtered into his drink. “No. We’re fine. You popped in for a reason?”
Cas quickly ran through some information concerning angel movements and demon activity. Then Dean cut him off.
“As long as it’s not another apocalypse, it’s gonna be a minute before we can help out. We’ve been running through cases back-to-back.”
“Yes.” Cas glanced over the three of you. “And you must get your… rest.” He cleared his throat. “There are a few leads I’d like to check out. Should take a week or so.”
Sam grinned, strained as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Perfect. We’ll rest up until we hear from you again.”
Cas paused before leaving. “What’s no-cum-Nove-“
“Just go,” Dean groaned.
After a blink, the angel was gone. After another few seconds, you all burst into laughter.
***
Part 11: One Last Ride (Finale)
Series Masterlist
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writing-house-of-m · 1 year
Text
Bend & Snap
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Crack
Warnings: A few sexually suggestive scenes, nothing graphic
Word count: 3,065
Summary: Your date night with Wanda gets interrupted in the strangest way
A/N: This was a collaborative effort between @speciallysapphic , @therunawaykind and myself for a challenge set by @vancityfire13 . I thought it was fun and wanted to share. I hope you all enjoy reading 🙂
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It had been a while since you and Wanda got a chance to spend some time together. So you agreed to a quiet date night in.
Sitting in front of the TV you were nearing the end of the movie you had picked out, dirty dishes placed on the small coffee table in front of the two of you as you snuggled on the sofa. It was your turn to choose a movie this time.
You both agreed that you would take turns choosing the movies you would watch on nights like this. Wanda always opted for classic movies you hadn't seen, while you picked 'iconic' movies Wanda would have missed because of her time through the war.
The night started with taking advantage of the empty compound, spending time cooking your dinner. Music filled the air as you danced around the kitchen together between cutting up vegetables and following Wanda's instructions.
You went along as best you could but not wanting to ruin your meal, you opted to follow her around like a puppy, completing little tasks you could see needed doing.
Throughout the movie Wanda tried to keep making moves to go further than cuddling. You stopped her wandering hands each time telling her to 'watch this part, it's funny' or ‘it’s coming to a good bit'.
She always found it endearing how you wanted to share the joy of watching movies together. It was one of the things she loved about you.
Now that the credits were about to roll Wanda seized the opportunity to pounce on you. She straddled your hips and began to desperately kiss you.
When air was needed she rested her forehead against yours, inhaling then letting out a breath, "I thought the movie was never going to end."
You furrow your eyebrows as you pull your head back to ask, "You didn't like it?"
Looking at your expression she can't help but find your pout cute, "I did like it, it was funny and definitely iconic," she answers.
Your face brightens but she continues as her hands move from around your neck down your body, "I just had something else on my mind," she says, biting her bottom lip and placing her hands under your shirt.
With your lips attached again, you waste no time in lifting her slightly to lay her on her back on the sofa and get comfortable on top of her.
Before you can even think about removing her shirt you hear the loud, excited voices of a few people approaching the seating area you were in.
You recognise the voices belonging to Steve and Thor. Even though you don’t hear them you know Scott and Vision will also be present because they were assigned on the same mission.
Feeling annoyed is an understatement because you really didn't think anyone would be back today. Before you get caught like a couple of school kids, the two of you sit up, fix your hair and clothes so you are presentable for your oncoming intruders.
As they enter the vicinity Scott notices the clutter of dishes and the movie credits rolling. The other men and the android turn their attention to you too once they are made aware of your presence when he asks, “You guys had a party without us?” His face, slightly sad.
But the question adds to your annoyance because intruding was one thing but him not realising he had walked in on your date was another. “Yeah, Scott. We had a party. Just the two of us.” You smile sarcastically at the man putting his helmet down on one of the empty sofas.
When he realises your tone he squints his eyes at you, “You know, it’s not your words that hurt, it’s the way you say them,” he says as if he is wounded. You roll your eyes and sit more comfortably, wrapping an arm around your girlfriend.
The ‘wounded’ man, getting over it quickly, asks, "What were you watching?"
Wanda leans into your embrace, "Legally Blonde," she replies for you, to avoid any cynical answers.
Scott's face lights up, "Oh, I love that movie. You really couldn't have waited for us to come back?"
You roll your eyes again and are about to say something but Steve is quicker, “Yeah, a relaxing movie would be nice after the 48 hours we just had," he states, joining the conversation.
Thor gets everyone's heads turning toward him as he walks closer to where the five of you are, beer in hand, “It was a long 48 hours indeed, but we were victorious in the end,” he smiles, proudly.
It’s silent for a moment before Scott speaks again, disregarding Thor’s comment and moving his gaze to Steve, "There's nothing relaxing about Elle Woods trying to get into Harvard, defying stereotypes, getting the man of her dreams back. On top of that she deals with sexism and her self-worth."
Thor, still with a bright smile on his face, says, "Ah yes, there is nothing more important than a woman getting the education she deserves."
To which Steve chuckles along with Wanda. You notice Vision standing on the side, looking like he is trying to compute the plot of the movie.
Scott, once again disregards Thor’s comment and continues, "It has so many iconic moments; 'What? Like it's hard?',” he quotes putting his hand on his hip as he pops it out for emphasis. "And using her hair care knowledge to her advantage! Who knew the girl would get caught because she got her hair done!"
Wanda giggles at the ant man’s enthusiasm while you sit there impassively watching him, still feeling a little irritated. You can’t help but wonder if you can sneak the two of you out while Scott has the attention of the room.
Your plan is foiled when Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Tony enter, the attention moving to them momentarily as they walk closer.
It really is a party now.
Nat raises an eyebrow assessing the crowd in the area, she smirks when she sees your displeased expression. You had already spoken to her about the fact you were finally going to get some alone time with Wanda - it was clear your time was cut short.
Everyone moves their heads in the direction of Scott as he gasps loudly, "The 'Bend and Snap'!” He exclaims, “How could I forget about the 'Bend and Snap'?!"
Steve, Thor, Vision and Bucky look at him confused, as Nat looks in your direction, “Legally Blonde?” She asks so you nod your head with Wanda nodding along, thinking the question was for her.
The new patrons to the room take seats in various places, when Vision questions, “The Bend and Snap?" You hear Sam laugh at the serious demeanour Vision has.
Nat stands with her arms crossed and everyone else listens from their seats as Scott explains, it's how Elle Woods gets a man's attention. Taking a couple of steps away from the couch he shows them how it's done.
Taking out a small disc from his pocket, he cautions everyone that it is safe. But from the look on the faces no one was worried to begin with.
The group have always been in agreement that Scott was the least worrying hero, the only reason he is on the team is because enemies don’t see him as much of a threat and that gives him the advantage to blindside them.
He’s about to start explaining when you all hear a commotion coming from the direction of the hanger. A moment later you all see the members of the Guardians of the Galaxy enter.
You let out an annoyed sigh watching them stampede their way to you greeting their comrades.
The red headed spy laughs at your exasperation, you can't help but wonder why everyone has chosen today of all days to show up.
When Peter asks what’s going on, he’s shushed and told to take a seat as they all sit and stand around joining the teaching moment.
When everyone is settled down, Scott continues, “First you need an item, it can be anything at all. You drop it,” he shows the item in his hand and drops it exaggeratedly, “Oh,” he giggles putting a hand to his mouth, his voice an octave higher, “Oops,” he smiles shyly, keeping up the act.
Returning to his normal voice, “Then you bend and reach for the item, like so,” he hinges forward at the waist, simultaneously sliding his hand down his leg, explaining the movement draws attention to the length of your legs.
“The whole point is to take your time, to keep the watcher on edge,” he wiggles his eyebrows and says this is the ‘bend’ portion of the manoeuvre.
“Once you have the item in hand, you quickly,” as he grabs the metallic disc he springs up positioning either hand to the sides of his chest, framing it while arching his back. Explaining this is the ‘snap’.
There is a round of applause mixed with some laughs as Scott bows to his audience.
Thor’s mouth hangs open slightly, intrigued and can't help asking, "So… if I do this it will get the attention of a woman."
Sam and Tony laugh together, “It will definitely get some attention!” Sam exclaims.
You join in with Wanda’s laughter, unable to get over how ridiculous this all has gotten.
Thor and Peter step forward to Scott with a few questions, wanting to go through the actions with him.
“I’ll need a volunteer to show you one more time,” he looks around and sees Captain America looking hesitant to ask so he does it for him. "What about you Cap? You wanna give it a shot?"
Steve glances over to the seats and sees Bucky looking over. He smiles and blushes but says he'll try, purposely moving to angle himself right so that the Winter Soldier will get a clear view of America's ass as he 'bends'.
Scott goes through the moves step by step using the American icon as a test dummy with Bucky’s eyes never leaving his figure. When he bends forward, Scott places a hand on Steve's back to get him to bend over a little more, much to Bucky’s satisfaction.
Steve’s movements are stiff but he manages to get through it getting a pat on the back from Thor as he tries to make eye contact with Bucky when he’s standing straight again.
Everyone else is too busy conversing or watching Thor’s attempts on the side to see the hungry eyes of the Winter Soldier, making you want to throw up. All those times Bucky has called Steve ‘Captain’ coming to the forefront of your mind.
You choke on nothing when Bucky signals toward the elevator as he stands to leave, while everyone is distracted Steve follows his path.
Wanda makes sure you are okay by rubbing your back. When your coughing stops, “It’s so nice seeing everyone together, it would be better if the rest were here too,” she says, which you can't help but smile at.
These people have become her family, it was one of the first things she confided in you. As if by magic Wanda gets her wish when you feel a gush of wind fly past you. Pietro stops next to Nat and shouts across the room adding to the chaos and noise, “I told you, even with a five minute head start I’d still win!”
You turn your head, you see, Yelena, Kate, Kamala, Peter (Parker) and America enter with Bruce trailing in just after them.
Thor’s boisterous laugh has you looking at the original group that ruined your night. Scott congratulates him for getting it correct and complimenting his arms being bigger than Steve’s. Thor is beaming, "I can't wait to try this on Jane, she will be so impressed."
Vision steps past Peter (Quill), who is showing Gamora the move, speaking quietly to Scott while looking sheepish. You swear you see him blush when he makes eye contact with Pietro, not realising the action was possible for the literal machine. He stutters his question asking Scott if he could help him next.
Nat told you he had a thing for Wanda’s twin but you didn't believe it. It really was a ‘you have to see it to believe it’ kind of thing.
Vision thinks he is quiet but everyone hears the final words come out of his mouth, “I just don’t think it’s appropriate in front of my daddies.”
A sheet of quiet takes over the room that feels like it lasts forever, jaws hanging open trying to fathom what they have just heard. Sam laughs first with the rest soon following.
They realise what Vision meant so fingers are pointed at Tony, Bruce and Thor with howling laughter taking over the room.
While Tony and Bruce want to sink into the floor Thor smiles not really understanding the joke. With Vision in the same boat he looks around not really caring and looking back to Scott with quizzical eyes.
You hear Mantis whisper beside you, “How many daddies does he have?” Making you feel bile creep up your throat again.
Before Scott can answer the android, Pietro cuts in and tells him he would show him himself but in a private setting, flirtatiously.
First you had to witness Bucky and Steve’s bedroom eyes. Now this, the world really was against you today.
Nat smiles as she sees her wife walk in and make her way to her. They greet each other with a kiss and she catches Maria up with what has been going on. She scoffs at the absurdity of it all and confirms they will have dinner in a few hours.
Their attention gets turned to Sam who asks if Nat will be a judge on who can do the ‘Bend and Snap’ the best. Scott takes offence saying he was right there, wanting to be the one to do the judging.
Wanda realises you have been quiet for a bit too long, “Hey, should we continue our date in our room?” She says lowly to you.
“You don’t want to stick around a little longer while everyone is here?” You reply with your own question.
“I think this whole thing has been enough for a little while,” she laughs, making you smile.
She takes your hand as she leads you away, the loud noise of the contest being sorted getting quieter the further you walk away.
You get in the elevator and are making your way up when it comes to an abrupt stop as the building shakes.
There’s a loud sound from something followed by the alarms going off.
The muffled sounds of Scott trying to defend himself, “I thought it was a shrinking disc!” Make their way through the walls of your location.
Sighing, you ask Friday what happened, “It looks like a sofa has been supersized and crashed through several walls.”
“So, how long are we stuck here?” Wanda asks for you. The only reply you get from the automated voice is that help will be on its way as soon as possible. Wanda doesn't want to risk using her powers in case something comes crashing down on the two of you.
It doesn't take long for you to get freed. You make your way back to the seating area due to the fact the oversized sofa is partly in your room.
You can’t believe your eyes. In the fifteen minutes you spent trapped in the elevator they have managed to set up a makeshift catwalk complete with a judging table, scoring cards and everyone has an assigned number stuck to their backs.
Noticing Steve and Bucky, you realise the early leavers from before have returned to take part in this little competition too.
When you make it to Nat and Scott at the judging section they explain one of his discs hit the sofa as they were trying to move it out of the way. “We still need one more judge, unless you want to compete,” Natasha quips.
You’re about to reply saying there was no way you were going to entertain the idea of you doing the ‘bend and snap’ but Wanda answers first, “I wouldn’t mind walking down a runway for you to judge me,” she smiles at you, biting her lip.
You smirk at her, “I think I already know the score I’m going to give you,” you give her a peck on the cheek. “You still have to work for it though, I can’t have anyone thinking I have a favorite,” you lower your voice to a whisper just for her to hear.
The competition starts when Nat announces contestant number one can begin and of course it is a loud fiasco.
With music blaring, it goes exactly how you would have expected something like this to go.
America and Kamala fall over their own feet in their collaborative effort, the two Peters decide to team up (two Peters are better than one they said) and have a wardrobe malfunction when webs attach themselves to Starlords pants pulling them down, Kate pushing Yelena forward to not do anything at the end of the runway but give her sister the middle finger when she catches her sister laughing at her.
Tony even managed to get Pepper to walk down with him as she awkwardly stood to the side while he picked up his glasses from the ground. Shaking his butt in her direction just to see her blush.
Drax, thinking it was a talent show, moves as slow as possible showing he can be invisible.
What’s even crazier is that Vision completing the action snaps the wrong thing because he short circuits and gets stuck. Pietro has to take him to Tony’s lab with Tony following behind him to get the android fixed.
When Wanda inevitably wins everyone has something to say about it. “An infinite amount of points isn’t fair!” You hear a variation of this same statement from a few contestants and you only have one reply, “Maybe you should find your own judge to sleep with,” you laugh heartily at your own joke.
Even though the night didn’t go as you hoped, you still had a pretty good time.
You are especially happy with the way Wanda was smiling and enjoying herself.
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alexusonfire · 1 year
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Minions, But Not The Cool Kind
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Lucifer Morningstar x human!Reader
A/n: I think this is crackfic? My first one if so 🤪 Inspired by and dedicated to @daydream-cement and @bri-sonat - their "Gwen Characters Silly Questions" series prompted this! (Also please check them both out, they are such talented writers!!). They/them pronouns for Lucifer (very ooc too, be warned), and if you don't like Minions (yes, those Minions) I'd suggest you skip. 🤣
Both you and Mazikeen turned towards one another, the maniacal laughter echoing throughout the hallways. The unusual sound set your blood racing, so much so that the two of you darted down the hall, following the now near-giggle. You slammed the door open, expecting some sort of trickster demon to have invaded your space... only to find Lucifer themself, their hand covering their snorting laughter, the phone you'd convinced them to get held up in their other. Mazikeen warily stepped behind you, wondering if this was some sort of game, or test or-
"Have... have you seen these fucking Minions?"
At this point you were downright confused, your brain empty as it tried to process the outlandish scene in front of you.
"... Minions? Like, the little yellow dudes from Despicable Me?"
Lucifer burst out laughing again, their feet kicking like a small excited child. You turned to look for Mazikeen's help, only to find her eyes practically bulging out of her skull, she slowly backing away; taking in the doubled-over form of the Morningstar in their chair, you were about to do the same.
"I mean, I knew the children liked them but these middle-aged women... the memes they find humorous... I've created six and they've all been shared at least a hundred times each in the last ten minutes... what is happening up there!!"
Lucifer was rolling, their stomach clutched and tears rolling down their cheeks. Never did you think you'd hear something so... boisterous from them. You slowly approached, like a human to a feral cat, and placed the back of your hand upon their forehead, testing their temperature.
"Are you sure you're quite alright my love?"
"Inspirational quotes... on a fucking Minion photograph!"
Their cackle bounced off the walls, jolting both you and Mazikeen into fight or flight mode; seeing as slapping some sense into the Ruler of Hell was absolutely not an option, you decided to make your exit.
"Alright we'll just um... we'll leave you to it then..."
Mazikeen quickly grabbed at your arm and dragged you out of the room, scurrying you both far away from what you were sure was a lucid dream. Just when you were convinced you may have just made the whole thing up, a delirious hallucination of sorts, another gleeful wheeze sounded through the castle.
"Another share! By another adult woman!! Brilliant!"
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supernaturalscribe67 · 7 months
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WAP
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Words: 1,825
POV: 3rd Person
Pairing: TFW x Male!Reader [Platonic]
Warning(s): The term 'wet ass pussy' is used frequently, crack!fic, embarrassment, discomfort, language, I cried laughing while writing this...
Summary: When the reader decides to listen to music in order to combat the exhausting amount of research he has to do, a certain angel hears the lyrics of one of the songs, leading to some rather...uncomfortable questions.
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A monster had entered Lebanon, and no one had any idea what it was. Some signs pointed to vampires, others pointed towards a werewolf, and Dean swore there were signs of wendigo activity, but Sam was skeptical about Dean’s findings. After they interviewed the victims’ families and searched around the sites where the individuals were last seen, the group was still limited on clues that would give them a definite answer. So, they decided to head back to the bunker and do the one thing they were least excited to do;
Research.
They knew that it was going to be a gruesome task - looking through all the text in the Men of Letters bunker - to try and find exactly what they were hunting. They enlisted the help of Castiel, giving him his first taste of what researching entailed. The four of them were gathered around a table in the library, noses deep in books and websites as they scoured the seemingly endless resources at their disposal. 
After several hours, multiple closed tabs, and two stacks of books, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Everyone was starting to feel fatigued and all of them wanted nothing more than to take a break. However, despite the feeling of exhaustion, they kept going. It was different when the unknown monster was right on their doorstep.
(Y/N) let out a sigh as Sam dropped the book in front of him, a cloud of dust emitting from the leather-bound cover. He coughed and covered his mouth. 
“Care to explain why we can’t take a break from research?” (Y/N) questioned, clearing his throat as he raised a brow.
 Sam walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down with his book in hand. “The monster’s not going to take a break from killing people, so we can’t take a break from researching.” He replied, a sigh following his response. 
(Y/N) groaned. He unclipped the binding on the side of the book and opened it up to reveal the yellowed pages. “I wish these damned monsters would get a life and take a vacation.” He grumbled. 
Dean snorted from beside his brother, eyes glued to his laptop as he took a swig of beer. “You and me both.” 
“Well, if I’m going to keep researching, then I’m going to be listening to music while I do so,” (Y/N) reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He placed one into his ear. “Just tap my shoulder if y’all need something,” he mumbled before placing the other bud into his ear. 
He began to search through the different playlists that he made, each of them meant for a different mood he was in. There was a playlist dedicated to helping him relax, one to help wake him up, one to help him sleep, one to pump him up for upcoming hunts, and many more. At that point, the last thing he wanted to listen to was quiet, soothing music. He needed something to keep him awake and hype him up while continuing the research. Once he settled on a playlist, he clicked on the first song before setting his phone down on the table beside him. 
The music soon began to flow through the earbuds, encasing (Y/N) in his own little world as his gaze moved to the text in front of him. For several minutes, his eyes were trained on the book as different pop, hip-hop, and rap songs filled his ears. His head moved up and down slowly in a rhythmic motion as he read over the faded words, flipping the pages to try and find the answer they needed. 
Soon, a familiar tune filled his ears, followed by the words to one of his favorite songs. 
Whores in this house
There's some whores in this house
There's some whores in this house
There's some whores in this house (hol' up)
I said certified freak, seven days a week
Wet ass pussy, make that pullout game weak, woo! (Ah)
(Y/N)’s head movements immediately shifted to the rhythm of the song and he fought back the urge to sing along. As the song played, he was finding it more and more difficult to focus on the book rather than the lyrics. It was a great distraction from the necessary research at hand. 
Tie me up like I'm surprised
Let's role-play, I wear a disguise
I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage
Make it cream, make me scream
Out in public, make a scene
I don't cook, I don't clean
But let me tell you, I got this ring (ayy, ayy)
(Y/N) had now completely abandoned the book in front of him as he continued to listen to the song. His eyes were still cast down at the book, but nothing was sinking in as he scanned over the same line of text over and over again. He began to sing along to the song in his head. 
Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me (Yeah)
Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me (Yeah)
I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be (Huh)
I'll run down on him 'fore I have a (Ayy) runnin' me
A light tap on his shoulder startled (Y/N) from his trance. He turned towards the direction of the tap to see Castiel pulling his hand back towards him. (Y/N) raised his brows as he reached over, paused the song, then took one of his earbuds out. 
“Yeah?” He asked. 
Castiel stared at him with a confused expression, opening his mouth to speak but finding himself unable to find the words that he was looking for. He looked down at the table, the floor, then back at (Y/N). (Y/N) reached up and took his other earbud out, giving Castiel his full attention.
“What’s up, Cas?” He asked once more. 
Still, Castiel couldn’t seem to form the question he wanted to ask. Dean glanced up over his computer screen and took another sip of beer. “Just spit it out, Cas,” he chimed in.
Castiel was finally able to find the words that he was looking for. “(Y/N)...” he trailed, his voice filled with uncertainty. “What is…what does ‘wet ass pussy’ mean?” 
Dean choked on his beer, causing it to spill out of the corners of his mouth. It threw Dean into a coughing fit. He scooted his chair back and leaned forward. Sam stared at Castiel with wide eyes for a moment before he looked over at his brother. He reached over and began to pat his back. Meanwhile, (Y/N) stared at Castiel with a wide deer-in-headlights look, mouth hung open. Castiel studied the three for a moment before he shrunk back into his seat. 
“Did I say something inappropriate?” He asked in a quiet tone, a look of shame crossing his face. 
(Y/N)’s mouth moved up and down, the flabbergasted expression still present on his face as he tried to think of a response. At that point, Dean had stopped coughing and his and Sam’s eyes were staring right at (Y/N). 
“Um…uh…” (Y/N)’s mind was blank, still in shock from the question. Castiel stared at him intently, sharp blue eyes seemingly piercing into his soul. Finally, (Y/N) cleared his throat and sat up. “Why, um…why do you ask?” 
Castiel gave a gentle nod toward (Y/N)’s phone. “You were listening to a song.” He said. “It mentioned something about ‘wet ass pussy’. I’ve never heard that term before, so I was curious as to what it meant.” 
“Was my music too loud?” (Y/N) asked, trying to steer clear of any explanation he had to give. He glanced towards Sam, then Dean, then finally at Castiel.
Sam and Dean shook their heads in response, their eyes still attached to him. Castiel shook his head as well. 
“No. your music was at an adequate volume. I heard it in your head.” 
“Ah…” (Y/N) nodded his head slowly. He folded his hands on the table in front of him and bit his lip. 
“I believe ‘wet ass pussy’ has something to do with sex when it is compared to the other lyrics of the song.” 
“Cas, can you please stop saying ‘wet ass pussy’.” (Y/N) spoke in a slightly strangled tone of voice. 
“Was I correct?” 
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before he looked towards the brothers, who both had mirroring looks of amusement. “A little help here,” he grumbled between gritted teeth. 
Sam and Dean both shook their heads. Sam threw his hands up, signaling that he was staying out of it while Dean smirked and reached for his beer again. “This is all on you, buddy,” he piped up. 
(Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. Certainly, he couldn’t explain what ‘wet ass pussy’ meant to an angel, right? That was just guaranteeing him a one-way ticket to Hell at that point. He weighed his options. He could be teased relentlessly as he explained what the term meant to Castiel while simultaneously securing the number one spot in Hell next to Crowley, or he could be teased regardless and hope that he could still get into Heaven. 
He decided to save himself from any further embarrassment. 
Quickly, (Y/N) stood from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping against the concrete floor. He closed the book in front of him and brought it close to his chest.
“I think I’m going to continue researching in my room.” He stated. 
He grabbed his phone and struggled to place it into his pocket, followed by his earbuds, before escaping the room as quickly as he could. Sam and Dean watched him with smirks on their faces while Castiel just watched in confusion as his friend retreated. Sam and Dean looked at one another, Sam shaking his head before he returned to the book in front of him. Dean, on the other hand, let out a deep chuckle before turning his attention back to the computer screen. Castiel’s eyes were cast down, his lips pursed and back slouched ever so slightly. 
After a while, Castiel sat upright in his seat and placed his folded hands in his lap. 
“What is ‘wet ass pussy?” He asked, looking towards Sam and Dean for some type of answer. 
Sam and Dean looked up at him, then at each other, then back at him. 
“We’ll have (Y/N) tell you later, Cas,” Sam finally answered. 
Seeming slightly satisfied with the response, the three of them got back to researching while (Y/N) sat in his room, forgetting about the case altogether and trying his best to rid himself of the horrible feeling of discomfort he was experiencing. 
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thavron · 5 months
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I do love the ‘Astarion is based on a cat’ thing. It gives me all kinds of hilarious head canons.
For example:
You and Astarion sitting together at opposite sides of the room. You are reading a book, he is just silently watching you reading a book.
Nature calls, so you venture upstairs to the bathroom. Just as you’re getting down to business, the door slowly opens an inch or two, and a pair of red eyes stare at you through the crack.
You ask him if he’s ok, because obviously this is a little weird. He blinks slowly and then runs off down the corridor into the darkened bedroom.
You’re done in the bathroom, so you head back downstairs. Just as you’re halfway down the stairs, Astarion sprints out of the bedroom, pushes past you and then stops abruptly in front of you.
Slowly he turns, smiles, kisses you on the cheek and the legs it back to his chair where he patiently waits for you to return for your book.
Also something about purring when stroking his hair. 😆
🤷🏻
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ailelie · 2 years
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"So be mine!" Tim said, feeling desperate. His efforts to reunite the Waynes were failing one by one. "Be a Drake." Inwardly he cringed. No way would Jason ever be interested in being Tim's family. Besides, making Jason a Drake wasn't going to help reconcile Jason and Bruce so that Tim could (would have to) make his graceful (reluctant) exit.
Jason scoffed. "And how exactly would that work?"
He'd stopped leaving. Jason was listening. Tim's mind threw into overdrive. "We'll say you were stolen as a baby."
"What?" Jason asked. "I think people would remember that."
Tim started pacing, the plan, such as it was, flying together. "No, they wouldn't. People forget things all the time. They trust evidence more than their own minds, so we'll just give them evidence."
"Look, I don't see why you're so--"
"It would work," Tim interrupted, the excitement of a new impossible task settling over him. "We can spoof hospital records, assign doctors and nurses who are retired or dead now, fake some police reports, embed some news articles in the paper archives. If I get my team to help, we can probably spoof a broadcast or two with a good deepfake. Everyone knows my parents were often absent--it was because of you. I'll backdate a payoff to suggest that's why they stopped talking about it."
He pointed at Jason. "I'll have to doctor your DNA record in the Batcomputer, but as long as you don't give Bruce any new samples, it should be fine. I'll find your birth certificate and go to the media. Ooh, I bet I could get Vicki to run with the idea without even talking to her. Stephanie loves planting rumors. She'll help."
"Tim," Jason said, his hands falling onto Tim's shoulders, stilling him. Tim blinked. "Are you listening now?" Jason asked.
"Yes?"
"You are talking multiple levels of fraud here, including conning Batman, and--" Jason paused. "You're not going to tell B the truth?"
Tim shrugged. "It's more airtight if he believes it."
Jason stared at him for a long moment and then laughed, stepping back and releasing Tim. "You know what? Fine. You manage to pull this off, I'll come home. To you. Not him."
Tim grinned. "Accepted. Any opinions on your birth name?"
"Nah, surprise me." And with that, Jason tossed Tim a casual salute and left.
Two months later, Jason turned on the news for background noise while he cleaned his guns. He wasn't paying attention until he heard Tim's voice from the TV.
"I've always wanted a brother," Tim said, talking to Vicki Vale. "I know it is unlikely, but I really want to hope William is still out there and that we can be reunited." Then Tim turned toward the camera. "William, if you're listening, I'm going to find you. Whoever you are now, it's time to come home."
Jason laughed. The little shit had done it. He pulled out his phone and sent a text. "William?"
Tim replied a few minutes later. "Shakespeare and Darcy. Your middle name is Austen. Want to help plan the reunion?"
"Count me in."
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gumnut-logic · 1 year
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Scott goes to the zoo
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This resulted from a typo in chat - it was meant to say ‘Scott goes zoom’. It didn’t. Also @onereyofstarlight​ is a chaos creator and this is the result :D
Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​ for the inspo and encouragement, and the read through ::hugs you tight::
This is pretty much crack. Wee!Tracys. You have my apologies.
-o-o-o-
He really had no idea where things had gone wrong.
It should have been simple. He was eighteen, responsible, head of his class, and excelled in leadership challenges. He was a top-of-the-line Rescue Scout, he had all the badges. This should have been easy.
But it wasn’t.
It had been Virgil’s suggestion. Though more correctly a Gordon-suggested-Virgil suggestion. Scott would have much preferred a trip out to the local airstrip and John had made it very clear that he would have rather visited the local space centre.
But Virgil had pulled the ‘we always do aerospace, this is unfair to Gordon’ card. And the annoying thing was that Virgil was right. Gordon usually got the short straw in group activities because his interests lay in different areas to the vast majority of the family.
He did have a powerful advocate in Virgil, though. Fully capable of poking every button Scott had to get his way.
Younger brothers may be everything, but damn they could make life difficult.
Maybe the fates had sent this one as a learning experience.
He stared down at the chicken currently perched on his knee. It was one of the fancy breed types. Small, fluffy, barely able to see beyond the end of its beak, and exactly the perfect size to fit in Gordon’s pocket.
This wasn’t an empirically tested fact, but Scott could not work out how else his little brother had smuggled it out of the petting zoo. Perhaps he should be glad it hadn’t made it out of the actual zoo and onto public transport, or, god forbid, back to the hotel room…and Dad.
He was trying not to think about Dad too much right now, because explaining this was likely to get them all grounded until Scott had as much grey hair as his father.
Though at this rate, that might not be too far into the future.
“Scotty, can I have an ice cream?”
He turned to look at his tiniest brother and was assaulted by his big blue pleading eyes.
This was seriously not fair. His brothers had weapons like this that Scott had so much trouble denying. “No, I’m sorry, squirt, we have to stay here until the Zoo Manager comes back.”
“But I’m hungry.”
Gordon, still dripping wet, on the other side of Scott, poked his head around. “Told you, you should have eaten all your lunch.”
“Shuddup, Gordy.”
Hmm, maybe Scott had said that phrase a few to many times if Allie was picking it up. “Gordon, I wouldn’t be saying anything right now if I were you.”
“Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Then whose, exactly?”
“I was saving Frilly! She can’t swim!” As if to emphasise that fact, the chicken on his knee fluffed up its feathers and flicked water in his face.
He closed his eyes and wiped a hand over his eyes. “And who exactly endangered Frilly in the first place?”
“She wasn’t in danger! I was protecting her!”
“By stealing her from her home?”
“Scott! We have a farm where she can play and be happy.” Gordon screwed up his face. “Not be trapped in that horrible cage.”
“Gordon, we have been through this. She is well cared for.”
But his little nine-year-old brother folded his arms over his chest, screwed up his face into a massive grump, and turned away from Scott, conversation ended.
Water dripped silently onto the wooden bench.
“I want an ice cream.”
Scott closed his eyes and sighed.
The chicken pooped on his jeans.
-o-o-o-
Perhaps it had been a bit much to ask of Virgil. His younger brother had spent most of the year eyebrow deep in his studies. It couldn’t be easy having John the genius waltzing through several subjects enough to catch up and then having to work alongside him to get final grades. There were three years between Virgil and John, but John was quick, and while Virgil was his own kind of smart, it didn’t equate academically to Johnny.
Virgil took it well, but Scott, while proud of both his brothers, knew it couldn’t be easy for the elder of the two.
So if Virgil had been distracted enough for this to happen…
No, that wasn’t fair. This was Scott’s responsibility and he trusted Virgil with everything.
When Alan had wandered off and disappeared, Scott had no issue with leaving his other two brothers under Virgil’s care while Scott tore through the zoo trying to find the missing three-year-old.
There had been announcements over the PA, staff alerted, and a hunt.
Apparently, while Scott panicked - yes, he would admit to himself that his response was a little haphazard and, if he was honest, frightened - Virgil had chosen to distract their two youngest brothers by taking them to the small aquarium.
After all, Gordon adored aquariums. Good decision. Excellent choice.
Perhaps not so much.
By the time Scott located Alan, who had somehow hitched a ride on a tour buggy that had disappeared into a jungle exhibit, both Gordon and Virgil were soaked to the bone, and John had been ‘arrested’ by zoo staff.
Hugging Allie to his chest, not sure he ever wanted to let him go again, Scott had walked into the aquarium to discover chaos - with his three brothers at the centre of it all.
John was the biggest surprise, really. His middle brother was the academic achiever, smart and more inclined to spend time with himself than hordes of friends.
But then they do say it is always the quiet ones.
John had dismantled a holographic sign, re-coded it and changed the display.
“What the hell? Why, John?”
Showing zero remorse and if anything, disgusted that he had had to go to the effort, his brother replied, “They were disseminating incorrect information. That was not a Leafy Sea Dragon, it was a Weedy Sea Dragon.”
Scott had stared at him for a full moment. “How the hell do you know that?”
John rolled his eyes. “He’s my brother, too, you know.”
And then he’d been mobbed by zoo staff demanding to know how to fix whatever it was he had done.
That left Virgil.
Who had fallen into the central aquarium itself while trying to get Gordon out of the water.
Did Scott love his fishy brother?
God, yes.
Did he want to throttle him?
There was a strong possibility.
Virgil could swim, of course, but it had been an aquarium with other denizens of the sea in there with him and while Gordon was quite happy chasing stingrays and sharks, Scott completely understood Virgil’s not so positive reaction to sharing marine real estate with them.
There may have been a little too much water swallowed and so much coughing afterwards that the zoo staff had called in their medical team.
Yes, Scott could feel a grey hair popping up through his scalp right about now.
Virgil’s apologies kept being cut off by his hacking cough.
So here Scott sat, a little brother either side of him, a chicken on his knee, one brother getting the third degree from the zoo technical staff, the other being given oxygen just in case he hadn’t finished drowning.
Scott’s brother radar was pinging in so many different directions he was at a complete loss how to respond. This was a new experience.
He always knew what to do.
But apparently not now.
So the sight of his grandmother walking through the door set off such a wave of relief he nearly went down under it all.
“Grandma!”
“Honey.” And he was wrapped in her arms, the chicken taking flight as he stood up, and two little brothers jumping in to make it a group hug.
She stroked his hair.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Always, honey.” She pulled away gently. “Now, get me up to speed. I need a sit rep.”
He stared at her.
Both the chicken and Allie were attempting to climb his legs.
So Scott Tracy straightened up, reported in detail…
And handed the situation off to his superior.
Grandma would know what to do.
-o-o-o-
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err4o4r · 1 year
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crack!fic, in der Leo endlich einsieht, dass er tatsächlich eine Pause braucht, wenn er den kompletten Kollateralschaden in seinem Kopf verhindern will. Er lässt sich vom Dienst freistellen und macht einen Yogalehrer-Kurs, der übrigens auch ganz praktisch mit dem Tanzschullehrer-Modul kombiniert werden kann, und lernt dort einen süßen Adam-Doppelgänger kennen. Der echte Adam versucht währenddessen, seinen neuen, extrem verdächtigen seltsamen Kollegen nicht einfach irgendwo auszusetzen und Leo nicht zu sehr zu vermissen. (Ihr wisst, wie die Geschichte ausgeht: Es passiert natürlich ein Mord, aber ohne Leo ist es nicht mehr so schön und auch gar nicht auszuhalten, also kündigt Adam mittendrin und macht die Ausbildung zum Tanzlehrer, um zusammen mit Leo ein Studio für Yoga und freie Tanzkünste zu eröffnen, ganz im Sinne der Harmonie und Entspannung lol.)
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bitchin-beskar · 1 year
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Late Night Rendezvous - An April Fools Crack Fic
Rating: E
Pairing: Sheev Palpatine x Jar Jar Binks (yes, seriously)
Warnings: bondage, lingerie, flogging, Jar Jar Binks’ horrid grammar, horrific metaphors, I compare Sheev Palpatine’s dick to a lightsaber and it’s exactly as bad as it sounds, masturbation. I’m so sorry.
Word Count: 955
A/N: This… this is a cursed fic. I blame the discord entirely for encouraging this… this… this blasphemy. This is crack, and is NOT meant to be taken seriously. Please. This is not a pairing I ship, I wrote this entirely because it was the most cursed thing I could think of. I’d say enjoy but… you’ll probably wanna bleach you eyeballs if you actually read this.
It was late on Coruscant, very late. Even the most dedicated politicians had gone home hours earlier, and the corrupted ones had finished their own after hours business and were home sleeping in their beds dreaming of power and money and whatever else corrupt politicians dream about. The Senate Building, theoretically, should be empty, aside from a skeleton crew of guards and the custodian droids.
But if one were to look closely, they’d see the soft glow of candlelight coming from the Chancellor’s office. That alone wasn’t unusal, the Chancellor had a certain fondness for the scent of Jorgan fruit candles. But this late at night was certainly strange. If one were to venture closer, they’d realize candles aglow were not the only strange thing about the Chancellor’s office that night.
“Oh! Mesa feel berry, berry strange!”
Now, Senator Binks visiting Chancellor Palpatine was not a strange occurrence. Both were Nubian natives after all, even though Jar Jar was a Gungan and Sheev was human. If one couldn’t find Senator Binks, it was usually a good bet that he’d popped into the Chancellor’s office for what many assumed to be a chat or spot of tea.
Those assumptions could not have been more wrong.
Were someone to enter the Chancellor’s office that night, the chances of them ending up permanently catatonic were astronomically high. For the sight that would greet that unfortunate soul was one that would drive even the most composed, collected, rational being insane.
Spread out on the expensive Nubian silk sheets that adorned the Chancellor’s bed in his attached chambers, was Senator Jar Jar Binks. He was dressed in the finest lingerie, red and black silk and lace accentuating his curves and contrasting quite nicely against the puke-brown of his scaly skin.
His hands and feet were spread apart, tied to each or the four corners of the bed with fuzzy black cuffs. His abnormally long muscular tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and a gorgeous greenish flush spread across his face and exposed chest. His haillu twitched, betraying his nerves.
Across the room, in a decadent armchair, sat Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. He was enveloped entirely in a velvet robe of the blackest night, the hood drawn up and only revealing his pale, wrinkled chin and his thin, pallid and chapped lips, which were curled into a smirk.
A gnarled, wrinkled hand poked out of the voluminous robes, one finger crooking in a come hither motion, the nail bed a sickly yellow color, akin to jaundiced eyes.
Jar Jar let out a wanton moan as the phantom sensation of the Chancellor’s touch caressed his body, soft and delicate like the feather from the feathered lizards of the forests of Pzob. His lover always started soft, teasing like a little boy pulling pigtails on the playgrounds.
The application of the Force was always unexpected, even after many years of private dalliances and secret rendezvous. It was weird for Jar Jar, the disconnect of seeing his lover across the room with his eye-stalks, yet feeling his loving touch over his scales was one he still had trouble understanding, much like the proper grammar of Galactic Standard Basic.
“Sheev, give mesa more pleasen!”
“You want more, my greedy young Senator?” Sheev crooned, voice dripping sweetness like Vashkan Apidactyl honey.
Before Jar Jar could confirm that he did, indeed, want more, a flogger floated over to the bed and with a quick turn of a crooked finger, the fine bantha leather flashed through the air like a lightsaber, and the crack of it on Jar Jar’s skin made him cry out in ecstasy, the primal noise similar to that of a Acklay’s mating call.
Sheev cackled, rough and throaty like a Gizka. He used the Force to continue to inflict glorious pleasurepain on his lover, whilst simultaneously parting his own voluptuous robes to reveal his hardened man-meat.
His stiffened rod was roughly the same size and shape as the hilt of a lightsaber, and arguably just as deadly. Many an innocent had fallen before his massive saber-dick, and Jar Jar was just the latest in his long list of impressive conquests. The Gungan had lasted longer than expected, and Sheev couldn’t say he was disappointed.
His pale hand wrapped around the turgid length, stroking in time with the sound of the bantha leather cracking against his sweet little Gungan’s skin. The slick sounds of his hand stroking his nerf sausage made the Gungan’s eye stalks swivel over to Sheev’s form, the soft pants falling from his bill creating a symphony worthy of the Coruscanti Orchestra.
Both of them were quickly climbing towards explosive climaxes that would make the destruction of the two Death Stars look like child’s play, if one ignores the timeline jump for a moment.
The sound of bantha leather striking scaly flesh and wrinkled hand stroking swollen man-flesh sped up simultaneously, gasps and groans adding the the musicality of it all as both Sheev and Jar Jar made noises that wouldn’t be out of place in a Rancor pit.
“Mesa close, Sheev! Mesa ganna come!”
“Good, good. Let the pleasure flow through you! Do it, my young Gungan, do it!”
At the same time, Gungan and Human climaxed with rapturous roars, shaking the room and giving any Tatooinian nearby flashbacks to a Krayt Dragon attack. Sheev’s hips shot up and off the seat of his armchair, like Elon Musk’s Space X Rocket. Jar Jar wriggled and writhed in his binds like a particularly slimy Stifling, or perhaps a Quacta.
As both lovers came down from their orgasmic highs, they knew this was going to be far from the last time they engaged in such pleasures of the flesh.
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Hey writer! I've been going through your stories and I think they're great! I have an idea but I can understand if you're uncomfortable with it but I think you're funny enough to do something cool with it.
So Reader introduces Loki to weed, maybe? How do you think he'd be like? What would it be like to babysit him?
*In Marge Gunderson voice* Oh dear, my first crack!fic request!
So, I hope you don’t mind that I changed it up a bit. Planning this one out, I couldn’t really see Loki as the type to partake (not judging, I blaze it myself). So, I switched the places: Reader is the one smoking and Loki is the babysitter. Also, I added Thor so Reader had a smoking buddy.
“Blazing with the Boys”
Summary: To celebrate a mission well done, you and Thor decide to take a few hits of the devil’s lettuce. Loki takes it upon himself to take care of you and see to it that you and Thor don’t paint the town green.
Pairing: Loki x F!Reader Content Warning: cannabis use, fluff/crack!fic (or is it weed!fic?) Word Count: 1.5k
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“It’s like being drunk, I guess,” you explained to Thor as the pair of you sauntered proudly down the hallway (Loki following two steps behind) towards the kitchen of your living quarters on the Avenger’s compound. “Only you don’t really lose your motor skills so much as just want to eat a lot.”
“Now, repeat the part about laughing?” Thor asked, interested.
“Everything becomes funny, depending on the kind you get,” you said. “Even Adam Sandler movies! So, are you in?”
Thor shrugged. “It sounds like something worth trying.”
You’d just returned from a difficult mission, or rather, would have been a difficult mission had you and Thor not rolled Nat-20s on your strength checks and kicked serious Hydra ass. You and Thor had discussed on the way back that you wanted to celebrate with something special, and your cousin had managed to sneak in a quarter of good-quality sativa and your favorite glass bowl (hand blown and shaped like an avocado). Thor was interested to hear more about it and had decided to indulge with you upon your return.
You were extra excited, seeing as Loki had been able to see you in action, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was more than a little impressed with you. However, now that you all were back, Loki had reverted to his normal, dignified self. “It sounds like more effort than drinking,” Loki scoffed. “Y/N, do you really need to--?”
“—Loki, it’s actually safer for a Midgardian to have a hit than take a shot. We don’t have livers of steel like you all seem to do out on Asgard.”
“Its true,” laughed Thor. “It takes an entire keg to get me feeling anything these days. Your mead is like water here.”
You shrugged and turned to Loki, still behind you. “I think it’d be fun if we made a trio, though.”
Loki smiled at you. “I trust you know more about this cannabis substance than I, but as someone who has enough chaos swimming in his brain all day and night, I think I’d prefer to sit on the sideline for this one.”
You frowned playfully. “I’m sorry you don’t approve, Reefer Madness.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t approve. Perhaps I could stay around and make sure you and my brother don’t ascend to too much trouble?”
You smiled and winked at your still-new lover. You and Loki had been casual for a while before deciding only a few weeks ago to become exclusive to one another, and you were still having a good time with your ‘honeymoon phase.’
“I suppose that could work. We need to make sure Thor won’t eat all the pop-tarts,” you suggested, slipping a hand into his.
Thor laughed. “I can contain my hunger, Y/N. No need to worry about my self-control!”
-----------------------
Thor had lost all self-control, tearing through box after box of the mass-produced breakfast pastry. The S’mores hadn’t stood a chance, and those Wild Berry ones were next. Open boxes and discarded wrappers made up a pile at Thor’s side, a few more un-ravaged ones set in a pyramid on the coffee table in front of him.
“Thor, you’ve had three hits,” you said, holding the bowl in your hand and taking small sips of smoke out of it. “For someone with a liver of steel, you seem to have a brain of jello.”
Thor looked up from his current conquest. “Jello? Where?”
Deciding to only invite the Asgardians to your reefer party, you’d set up the sofa in your suite in front of a television, turned on a random station, and started passing the cannabis back and forth while Loki sat at your side, observing with keen interest. You had been afraid for a moment that Loki would judge you, but you were now pretty impressed at how he was acting less like a babysitter and more like a researcher.
“It smells terrible,” was the only criticism he’d given.
“That’s what the incense is for,” you’d replied, lighting a stick of lavender incense and setting it on the table. The two herbal scents mixed together in the air, making your living room smell like Tommy Chong’s van.
You passed your bowl to Thor, who inhaled deeply, not even coughing a little (impressive!). “EXCELLENT! ANOTHER!” he yelled, raising the bowl in the air.
“No!” you and Loki yelled at once. You were barely able to duck over the arm of the sofa to catch the avocado bowl as Thor tried to throw it on the ground. “Chill out, Lonely Island! Smash this and we can’t have anymore!”
The television station you’d flipped to (for being an Avenger along with tech-savvy super-billionaire Tony Stark, you sure did have shitty TVs) was showing an episode of Columbo, which made you smile.
“D’awwwww my dad and I watched this all the time!”
“What program is this?” asked Loki, absentmindedly reaching out and tucking a loose tendril of your hair behind your ear.
“It’s a mystery show! Only you always see who the killer is in the first act, and the rest of the show you try to find out how the little Italian cop figures it out!”
“It sounds a rather cerebral show, given your current state of mind,” Loki replied.
You nodded. “Yeah, most people watch cartoons or That 70s Show, but c’mon! Peter Falk is boss,” you slurred, the cannabis finally hitting your faculties.
Loki could barely watch the program as you and Thor kept adding your personal commentary, both of you higher than Willie Nelson at Coachella. The entire time, Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of you acting like fools.
“There is no way he will find out the poison was in the tooth the whole time,” Thor insisted. “That’s a clever murderer right there.”
You shook your head. “Columbo always gets his man.”
Loki chuckled. “I preferred the last episode, where he staged the funeral for his wife. By the way, do we ever get to see her face? He talks about her constantly!”
You looked at your boyfriend, and the swirling world around you froze as you looked upon that handsome face, clearly enjoying observing you and your friend getting green-faced. “No, my love, but I’m sure glad I get to see your face every day!”
Loki grinned. “Oh, are we at this portion of the intoxication? Where you can’t keep your eyes off of the most attractive man in the room?”
You nodded eagerly, leaping over the sofa and falling into his lap sloppily. You looked up, your head in Loki’s lap, and you reached up, running a hand down his face. He began stroking your hair like a lapdog, which made you sigh with contentment.
“Can we go to your room?” you said quietly. “I love you and I want you.”
Loki shook his head gently. “No, my dear. I cannot make love to you while your mind is off elsewhere like this. Besides, someone sober needs to stay here and make sure my brother doesn’t induce a heart attack.”
You sighed, curling up the rest of your body. “But can I stay here in your lap?”
Loki smiled. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t, darling.” You rolled onto your side to face the television, your head still in Loki’s lap as he continued to softly stroke your face and fiddle with your hair. After a little while, the weed made you sleepy, and the last thing you saw before closing your eyes was Thor staring down an empty pop-tarts box, looking sad.
“I love you too, by the way,” Loki added after your eyes were closed, but just before your consciousness slipped away.
"Mmmhmm, I’m gonna forget that when I wake up,” you warned, finally drifting off into a THC-induced slumber.
Loki chuckled and traced your cheek with a loving hand. “Well then, that only means I get the pleasure of telling you all over again in the morning.”
He sat back, still petting you affectionately, and watched contentedly as Columbo saved the day again.
--------------------------------
@lokisgoodgirl @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85
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wrathfulrook · 1 year
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MontBlanc Blues
FC5 gen fic. Basically crack. Deputy Patience Ekner breaks into Seed Ranch, uses John Seed's pen, copies secret files, and kills a Peggie guard. Guess which one of those things upsets John the most.
Just a lil guy: 1.3k words
Rating: T
Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44894794
Deputy Patience Ekner heard the beeping of a Peggie’s radio coming closer, approaching from down the long hallway. She scribbled faster and faster, her handwriting bordering on illegible as she copied notes off of John Seed’s computer. She jotted down the truck convoys’ schedules as she heard the heavy thumping of a guard’s boots. The deputy quickly exited out of the file and dove behind the door. She prayed the guard didn’t enter the office to investigate and would just continue down the hall.
Patience had never been very lucky.
The smelly, hairy man walked through the doorway. If he walked any further into the room, he’d see her when he turned to leave. She stood pressed between the door and the wall, trying to stay as small and silent as possible, hyperaware of the sound of her own breathing. She couldn’t even reach her sidearm without noticeably jostling the door. The only thing she had in her hand was the pretentious-looking pen she’d grabbed off the desk when taking notes. She gripped it tightly, if only to make herself feel better.
Then the Peggie stepped further into the office.
Patience had to repress the sigh she felt deep down inside herself. She pushed herself gently out from behind the door, reaching towards her holstered gun. She quietly, cat-like, with well-practiced stealth crept forward, gently nudging the door out of her way.
It creaked.
She sighed aloud that time. The Peggie began to turn. He reached towards his belt, going for his gun or his radio. She couldn’t tell which and didn’t care; either would be disastrous. Patience attacked with the most accessible weapon she had – the pen. She leapt forward, grasping his dirty, scraggly hair and tugged his head to the side. She jammed the point of the pen into the meat of his neck with all her force. He gasped and gurgled as she lowered his struggling form to the floor, but thankfully did not scream.
She worked to regulate her panting gasps. She didn’t want something as stupid as her adrenaline-spiked breathing to give her presence away. Hooking her arms under those of the dead guard, she dragged him behind the desk, out of sight of the doorway, hopefully not to be found until she was miles away from Seed Ranch.
Again, Patience had never been very lucky.
At the sound of a man clearing his throat, Patience whipped around so quickly that her own braid smacked her in the face. She reached for her gun as John Seed raised the one already in his hand.
“Ah-ah-ah, Deputy,” he tutted. “Hands where I can see them.”
She clenched her jaw and raised both hands above her head. God, she hated the smarmy prick. He leaned against the doorframe, almost casually, one leg crossed behind the other. One eyebrow raised, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his beard. His gun was held with steady hand that pointedly undercut his lackadaisical aura.
“This is the second time you’ve invaded my home, isn’t it?”
“The second time I’ve been caught.”
“Cute,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
He pushed off the doorframe and leisurely strolled over to Patience, his gun trained on her the entire time. Rounding the edge of the desk, however, he stopped. His face hardened. He turned his angry, icy blue eyes on her, and she found his gaze made her more afraid than his gun did.
“I knew Brother Lyle. He had a wife and a baby.”
Patience scoffed. “Plenty of the people you’ve kidnapped, tortured, and killed had spouses and kids. It’s different just because he was your friend?”
“No, Deputy,” he pointedly began, turning the dead man’s head with the toe of his boot. “It’s different because-“
He stared at the man, silent and unreadable. He stood unmoving just long enough that Patience considered charging forward in an attempt to disarm him when he snapped his gaze up. If Patience had found his anger before frightening, then this was terrifying.
“What is that?” he seethed, pointing his finger at the man, but keeping his steely gaze on her.
“Uh,” she glanced quickly down at the corpse. “Dead Peggie?”
Patience heard John pointedly exhale through his nose. “And what,” he hissed, “is sticking out of his neck.”
It didn’t sound like a question, but she answered anyway, matching his hard gaze. “A pen.”
Patience may have shrunk away as his rage was unleashed by shouting, “No! Not a pen! A $2400 custom MontBlanc fountain pen!”
At that declaration, she definitely straightened back up, aware somewhere in the back of her mind of the dumbfounded look on her face, but unable to alter it.
“$2400? For a pen?”
“For a custom MontBlanc fountain pen! Which you have ruined!” His voice nearly broke in his rage.
“Okay,” she snorted. “Is it somehow different from the two identical pens over there? That hopefully did not also cost $2400 apiece?”
She lowered her hand just enough to gesture to the two metallic blue pens still capped and on his desk, both identical to the one she had used on the Peggie, right down to the small, pretentious crest, and the engraving on the cylindrical body reading John Seed, Esq.
“They are not identical.”
She stared blankly, waiting for him to indulge himself and continue, which, naturally, he did.
“One has a medium nib, which I use most often. One nib is extra fine for annotations and one is double broad! For signatures!” he hissed, his poster-boy face twisted in righteous anger, as if he was unaware he was seething over possibly the dumbest thing anyone could be mad about.
She pursed her lips, trying to keep a neutral face. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Objectively, it was pretty funny to see John Seed throwing a temper tantrum. But on the other hand, Patience really didn’t want to die over a pen.
“…You have a two and a half grand pen that you only use to sign your name?”
His piercing glare remained as level as his gun.
Patience swallowed but continued anyway, attempting a levity she did not feel. “Well, I don’t which one I used, but it took nice notes.”
“You wrote with it? Pray tell me, dear Deputy, why you would do a thing like that?”
She felt herself a hair’s breadth away from a bullet in the face, afraid to answer his question, but more afraid not to. “Because… it’s a pen? Why would you spend $7200 on pens you can’t use?”
“Pens you can’t use! Do you see this?” He bent down, ripping the fancy pen from the Peggie’s throat, letting more dark blood gush out of his body to stain the hardwood floor, before holding the bloody mess up to her eyes.
She nodded rapidly, just to get him to lower the bloody, gory thing from her. It instead urged him to push it closer, almost making her eyes cross to see it. She swallowed a gag at seeing a bit of flesh dangling from it. He used his bare fingers to wipe the tip of the pen, seemingly unbothered by the mess on his skin.
“This is a 14 karat solid gold nib. It is semi-flexible and will shape itself to the pressure and position of the user’s handwriting. If someone else uses it,” his eyes narrowed at her, “it will change the shape of the nib, ruining its usability.”
She blinked, trying to focus her gaze from the golden point inches from her face to the deranged man holding it there. “And that damages it more than me using it to stab someone?”
Patience did not see the gun coming up to whip her across the head. She reeled from the pain and shock, unprepared to defend herself from his practiced hands coming up to strangle her out of consciousness.
Over a fucking pen.
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Seven (and a half) Minutes in Heaven
It started, like most of their bad ideas did, with a note slipped under the door of their shared housing assignment. God he was so fucked.
Correction.
Mav was the one who was so fucked and by the rules of friendship, Goose was also in deep shit.
Links under the cut
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rehfan · 6 months
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There was a crack trope fic I read in another fandom and it was a world where humans could adopt other humans as “pets”. In this universe, there were shelters for them and everything. And most folks who did the adopting were wealthy bored millionaires and the people who were adopted were usually the poorer/disadvantaged classes. The theme of this particular fic was not that the adopter wanted a slave/sex object as most pets became, but just as a simple companion in their loneliness…
And now I need someone to write this for Steddie.
…or I could do it.
….should I?
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