#then we’ve clearly been watching different shows

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

this garden you've grown ⋆˚✿˖° part three

a continuation of part one and part two, where an unexpected meeting with the Duke of Meropide becomes a budding romance between the two of you that the entirety of his fortress watches unfold with anticipation. But the closer the two of you grow, the closer you're brought to question whether you're deserving to be called "duchess".

♡ This addition to the series was commissioned so I send all my love and biggest thanks to my first commissioner ♡ This request was simply a dream come true!

Wriothesley x fem!reader II romance, fluff!

The sound of the lock on Wriothesley’s door clicking back into place upon your exit marks the third time today you’ve left The Duke’s office with messy hair and smudged lipstick.

You swear you were only in there to get his approval on some adjustments you’re making to the garden and ask him questions about his preferences, but you can only get so far into your schpiel before the dreamy way he eyes your lips throws you off kilter.

“My lord,—”

“—Wriothesley.”, he corrected with a stern edge in his voice that asserted his statement was not a request. The voice he normally uses with convicts and unruly subordinates, but that gets the butterflies in your stomach flitting about like they’re on a sugar rush. He’s not blind to the way it turns your cheeks pink.

“Wriothesley,” you complied with a shy smile, “I’d like to change the fertilizer we’ve been using in the garden…”

You watched as the look in his eyes grew soft and he tilted his head to gaze at you from a different angle as he stood behind his desk before you—you took notice that he always stood when you entered the room, a sign of respect you hadn’t seen him replicate for anyone else. The affection in his demeanor made your heart sputter, but you persevered. 

“...the…the one we’ve been using salinizes the soil, so I’d like to try this brand from Sumeru.”, you slid the paper detailing what the soil contained and its cost over to him. He didn’t break his watch on you to look at it or its price, he simply nodded. After burning under his infatuated gaze for another handful of seconds, you averted your gaze to try to get through your next statement without him derailing you. 

“...I know it’s a little more expensive than the brand we’re using but…”

“I’ll put in the order right away.”, his firm, definitive statement sent your heart skipping once more. 

You tried to thank him, but your words caught in your mouth when you turned your attention off of the floor and back to him. He was staring at you hungrily again, an expression he’s neglected to fix ever since the first kiss the two of you shared in his office a couple of weeks ago. An expression that told you exactly what he was thinking about. You’d thought two long kisses today from the last two check-ins you had would be enough to satiate him, but that was clearly not the case. 

With a soft, dreamy sigh, you gathered your courage to lean up and press another soft peck to his lips, he watched you the whole way up with that handsome, proud smirk on his face. He ate up any affection you’d show him with the greatest satisfaction, and found your nervousness to give it adorable. 

Of course, he met your shy lips with fervor, bringing a hand up to tangle in your soft hair and encircling your waist with one of his arms to draw you closer.

Once the two of you had crossed the threshold from distant, longing looks to close physical affection, you found that the serious, dignified Duke was fiendish for touching and kissing you. He was like a man starved, craving you every minute of the day. Any type of allowance you’d give him was met with gratitude, whether it be capturing your lips with his or something as small as holding your hand. In every case, you couldn’t be in the same room with him without him getting his hands on you. He loved the softness of your skin, the flush of your cheeks, the sound of your shaky, excited voice. It made him greedy, but he wouldn’t apologize for it. 

Not only would he indulge in you while secluded in his expansive office, but also in the various nooks and crannies scattered about Meropide that he’d catch and pull you into throughout the day. 

He was like a wolf, constantly hunting and circling you…but you found it exciting. To be something desired so vitally by him that he felt the need to seek you out sent thrilled shivers up your spine and had you looking over your shoulders in anticipation every so often while tending to your garden throughout the day. 

You giggle to yourself as you remember the feeling, walking down the hall while fixing your hair and waving shyly at staff you happened to pass by on your way out with The Duke’s approval of your new fertilizer.

Your love affair was Meropide’s biggest “not-so-secret” secret—giving the fortress’s gossip industry a delicious meal to savor and share. 

Speculators would discuss a possible marriage proposal in the works; the women of the fortress swooned over what he might say to you, how and where he may do it…

Would he spring the question on you in the middle of your garden? No, they wouldn’t have that—a proposal for the beautiful relationship the two of you share must be equally if not more beautiful! Maybe he’d take you to a destination? They’d chat about what areas of Fontaine looked best during this time of year, or ask the outlanders about the prettiest harbors and havens of their homelands. The Duke’s closest subordinates were tasked by the nosy citizens with delivering pamphlets of travel guides, classy event decorations, jewelers and any other inspirations for a proposal to his desk, hoping he’d catch the hint and just make you their duchess already! You were so endlessly caring and kind to them, so crucial to the lifeblood of the fortress, they couldn’t risk their Duke letting you get away. Beyond that, they were tired of watching you labor away in the dirt wearing your common clothes and aspired to see you strut down their halls adorned in his noble colors! Archons knew you deserved it. 

Many of the older ladies of the fortress also mused about a possible heir to the duchy in the making and if the two of you were already in the process of creating one. They giggled and blushed at the thought, peeking at you from around corners to see if you’d gained any weight in your belly, asking you if you’d been feeling sick recently or offering you certain “aids” such as ginseng tea—all to your great confusion. You appreciated their doting, but you couldn’t imagine what for!

And special deliveries of figs and oysters to Wriothesley’s office certainly had him raising an eyebrow. 

They even made a list of baby names in preparation for the announcement they were praying for, secretly polling the Meropide residents on which name they liked best. Meropide’s citizens took the decision very seriously and some even formed election parties in favor of a specific name. You’d wonder why you were overhearing so much bickering over matters so small as the distinction between “Maximus” and “Maxwell” as you walked about the fortress. Why ever would a discussion of a name get someone so heated? Little did you know, this was their future Duke or Duchess they were fighting over—the heir would have to have a name befitting their title! (like it was their decision and not yours and Wriothesley’s. And there wasn’t even a baby or discussion of a baby between you two to begin with!)

“Caspian” and “Tallulah” won the popular vote.   

While the whole of Meropide was planning your proposal, wedding, and design for your baby’s nursery, you and Wriothesley were still in an unspoken period of stasis. 

Neither of you had blatantly confessed your feelings to the other; the both of you just wordlessly moved forward in tandem, like the big step of physical affection you took together wasn’t a step at all—it was just the natural course you were to walk together. This left you to only assume the intentions of the other. You unfortunately believed you were most likely just a passing entanglement for him; he was a Duke after all, his serious hunt for a partner would no doubt be among the rest of the nobility. You were just a commoner, a new citizen of his fortress, that’s all. 

He, like the rest of Meropide, believed you were his future wife, and acted accordingly. 

Although you tried not to get your hopes up, the things he would whisper to you while you were in his arms would have your fluttering heart wishing and pleading for something more…

“You smell like heaven, my lady.”, his voice would rumble, his nose against your temple as he pressed soft kisses to your hair. “Just like your lavender. I wish I could keep you by my side at night, I’d sleep so well. But it’s better that I don’t, otherwise, I’d have to keep you there—I could never rest without you again.”

He’d hold your face gingerly in between his hands and brush his thumbs across your cheeks in awe, saying, “If you told me you were a doll come to life, I would believe you.”, then press a soft kiss to your nose, “you’re too perfect to be real.”. 

You especially felt like something more than just a bit of fun to him when he’d had a bad day at work and would ask for you alone, to slip his arms around your torso and hold you desperately close; like he lived off of you, like you held him together. You’d let him hold you like that for as long as he needed, sometimes even hours. 

But you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, because if you were to get your heart broken by Wriothesley, you’d never ever recover. You’d made such a life for yourself here; you loved the garden you kept down here, you loved the citizens of Meropide and were devoted to making sure they’re fed nutritious and lively meals…and you loved Wriothesley. You loved him more than you thought it was possible to love another person. You wanted to stay by his side, stay here in Meropide, for the rest of your life. But if you were to confess and be rejected by him, the humiliation and grief would be unbearable. You’d have to leave, move back to the city in the overworld, abandon your home, all you’ve worked for, and all you loved. So you were content to remain a wordless association with The Duke; you’d take what he’d give you and ask for nothing more….

…If only you knew that he’d give you the world—you were his, and he cherished you like the most precious pearl the ocean has ever and could ever make. 

He thought he’d made that painfully clear, but shy little thing you were, you needed to hear it. 

Which is why it caught you so off guard when, in the middle of you watering a new section of the garden you’d prepared to experiment with legumes, Wriothesley had snuck up behind you and slipped your free hand into his, interlacing your fingers and giving you a small squeeze before springing a question you were wildly unprepared for on you.

“My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me as my date to the Epiclese ball tomorrow night?”

The way a man of such high stature would refer to you as “my lady” never failed to make you flush; it was one of those small things Wriothesley would do that made you feel like something greater than you are, like someone special to him that he put on a pedestal—a place above himself. But in this moment, you were less taken aback by the honorific and floored by the question.

The Epiclese ball was the grandest event in Fontaine, held at the famed opera house once a year for the Fontanian nobility—only those sitting in the highest places or holding the most important positions were invited to attend. Naturally, Wriothesley received an invitation, since he is arguably one of the most important men in the nation…but you were very far from important, let alone memorable. Not a single individual of the nobility knew who you were or your name, and they were justified in their ignorance—you were inconsequential at best, nothing at worst. 

This invitation meant you’d be wrapped around Wriothesley’s arm in a place you were never meant to be in. 

…would he really be proud of being seen with you?

In your shock, you’d stared at Wriothesley with wide eyes and parted lips for too long of a moment. He’d find this expression quite cute if it didn’t make him nervous that he caused you some form of discomfort.

“...I don’t have anything to wear.”, was all your jarred mind could come up with.

His concerned expression melted away into his charming grin once again, making your heart flutter and temporarily forget what you were so anxious about. 

“I’ll prepare something for you.”, he said, a glimmer in his eye betraying the fact that he already knew what he wanted to dress you in…or that he’d already prepared it. 

That excitement in his gaze broke your resolve; you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so happy at the prospect of attending with you, even if the thought made your knees want to buckle and anxiety twist in your stomach.

So you nodded, your acceptance met with a grateful kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll have it waiting in your room when you have finished with your work tomorrow. We’ll leave for the party at 9:00 pm. Alright?”, he squeezed your hand reassuringly once again, drawing a sigh from you as you took comfort in his touch. 

“Alright.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

The high rotunda ceilings and large, crystalline chandeliers that hung from them over the fanciful ballroom of the Opera Epiclese had you both struck with wonder and feeling incredibly small. You’d never been more out of your depth in your life. You couldn’t help but nervously shift on your feet as you and Wriothesley waited at the top of the stairs to be introduced. 

You had no reason to feel intimidated, with the way you were adorned, not a single individual in the room would take you for anything less than a duchess. 

When you’d entered your living quarters after finishing up in the garden earlier that day, to your surprise, several attendants and beauticians were waiting for you alongside a vanity full of products. You felt a bit silly that Wriothesley had led you to believe you’d be getting ready alone, but maybe he neglected to inform you since he predicted that you’d make a fuss about not needing so much care and resources. If you were too timid to ask for nice fertilizer, how could you accept his offer to be made-up like a queen? You wouldn't, so you supposed he’d made the right call. 

Steam flowed into the room from a bath that was drawn for you in your restroom, and the most beautiful gown you’d ever been honored to be in the presence of was laid out for you on your bed. You couldn’t believe you would be wearing such a thing tonight; it was so refined, you feared that it may just slip off of you on its own for not being a worthy enough wearer. 

The attendants spent hours on your look—carefully tucking and curling each strand of your hair in silver clips and coils, gingerly coating your lips and cheeks with rouge, silver glitter on your lids, shimmer on your shoulders and collarbones so they’d glow when hit by the ballroom’s lights. You had no idea how Wriothesley knew your measurements, but the dress fit like a glove—and it held onto you tight, it wasn’t going anywhere. Your gown was of his colors, a deep red velvet fabric that ran all the way from your sweetheart neckline down to splay out on the floor around you. The dress was sleeveless, but a black fur was draped over your shoulders and clipped together at your chest to hang around you and shield the majority of your exposed skin from view. The look teetered between displaying your beautiful features and keeping them obscured for only one person’s view. 

When you finished being dolled up and dressed, you stood back to look at yourself in the vanity mirror. 

The woman looking back at you was just as surprised as you were when you met her eyes—you’d never seen her before in your life. She was beautiful. She looked like the perfect picture of elegance and grace. You tilted your head at her, and she tilted hers back; her eyes held that same shade yours did. Her bone structure and arch of her eyebrows, length of her neck and arms, pout of her lips and angle of her nose, all the same…but she was so much better than you. It made your stomach grow heavy with envy—she was exactly the woman that deserved to be with a person of the nobility, especially one as special as Wriothesley. You were so jealous of her…

But you realized, that was you.  

You would’ve cried at the sight of yourself if it weren’t for the attendants fanning your eyes and fretting about you ruining their hard work. 

You were just so overcome with emotion. You looked like you belonged exactly where you wanted to be—by Wriothesley’s side. You were wearing his colors, adorned with silver pieces that matched the same shine as the buttons on his coat and handcuffs at his hip. The way you were dressed not only told the world that you were worthy to share a room with nobles, but that you belonged to a specific noble in particular; one of the most prestigious at that, and the one that claimed your heart. With one look at you, no soul in the room would doubt that you were Wriothesley’s and Wriothesley’s alone.

You tried to steady your breathing as your date took your arm in his and brought you forth to the top of the grand staircase. He noticed your panic and gave you a reassuring smile—a warm expression that greatly differed from the typical wolfish grin that made you fizzle. This one quelled the tension in your body, it made you feel safe and cared for. 

It promised you that you could relax when you were with him; nothing could go wrong when Wriothesley was looking at you with that smile

As you two stood at the precipice of the herald announcing your arrival to the ballroom, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered in a quiet rumble, “I hate this part too, but I’ll enjoy it this time—I’m looking forward to hearing my name said with yours as a pair.” 

The heart in your chest stuttered at the confession. You hadn’t thought about it like that; here, you felt like you were being thrown to the crocodiles, when really, you were being introduced at the side of the man you loved…

With a soft smile, you realized you were looking forward to hearing your name paired with his too. It’d give you a moment to live out a daydream where you could pretend you and Wriothesley were an actual couple.

The herald must have needed his eyes checked, because although you and Wriothesley were not married, instead of introducing the two of you as Duke Wriothesley and his date, he confidently called to the room with his full chest;

“The Duke Wriothesley and Duchess [name] of Meropide.”

You comported yourself, white knuckling your grace and taking care not to show your shock and embarrassment to the crowd although your mind was shrieking. You braced for Wriothesley to correct the herald, for the herald to make the distinction to the crowd that you and him were, in fact, not together…but the humiliation never came. 

Wriothesley just held you closer with the most satisfied smirk on his lips as he led you down the steps into the ballroom, taking care to look back at you and make sure you were holding your head high.

It was hard not to when he looked at you like you were the brightest star in the sky. 

The hall was filled with hushed whispers and gossip regarding the two of you, the nobles squabbling about not having known that the duke had gotten married and why they hadn’t been invited to such an event. As you walked by, you caught whispers of your name—whispers you’d prepared yourself to hear beforehand about not being fit to stand next to Wriothesley…but instead, you heard oohs and ahhs about how beautiful you were, how you and The Duke looked like a perfect match, how they wanted their husbands to look at them the way he looked at you. 

That last comment made you snap back to reality and turn to face Wriothesley again, only to be met with his warm, amorous eyes drawing over every inch of you as if he was committing your image to memory. He looked enthralled by you—like the entirety of this ball and all of its regalia could fall away and he would still be more than satisfied with having you alone. Nothing else mattered to him. 

The way your cheeks painted with rouge grew even pinker when you met his gaze made him chuckle. He couldn’t understand what still had you so shy around him. He certainly wasn’t shy around you anymore, but still, he found it adorable. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips; not a scandalous one shared between lovers at an otherwise dignified banquet…but a respectable, loving one between a husband and wife. The way it felt to be treated so dearly to him, especially shamelessly in a place where he needed to maintain heirs, made you feel like you weren’t just some moment in Wriothesley’s life, you were forever.  

When he pulled away, his heart swelled at the expression on your face; soft and puppy eyed. His signature wolfish grin shone back at you. 

“What did I do to earn such a look, fair lady?”, he hummed in amusement, standing so close that you were almost wrapped within his long coat alongside him, so he could lean over and listen to you speak close to his ear.

“...are you going to tell them we aren’t married…?”, you asked, timidly.

“I’m more inclined to tell them we happened to have forgotten our wedding bands on our bedside table.”

His comment sent those butterflies in your stomach that adored him so much fluttering again, but you pouted at him impatiently.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he countered with ease, bringing your left hand up to his face to ghost his lips over your ring finger. “If you’re worried about the title, don’t be. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have it.”

Your heart felt like it was just one more word away from rupturing. You’d spent so long bottling up your hopes, so long reminding yourself that you were not enough…to be given exactly what you’d been dreaming about since the day Wriothesley had entered your garden would certainly make you burst.

“...why not?”

He smiled down at you like the answer was obvious.

“Because the title is for the woman I love. So it is yours.”

You really did nearly explode, your knees buckling as your breath caught in your lungs. He pulled you flush up against him to steady you, laughing lightly at your reaction. You fussed too much, but he adored that about you; he just hoped that as you settled into your title, you’d allow yourself to be more demanding with what you deserve. 

Until then, he’d shower you with all of the assurances you needed.

“Do you need to hear it again? I love you, [name]. The love I have for you was made by you—you sewed it within me with your own hands; it is a feeling no other has raised in me nor will be able to replicate because it is yours alone. You claimed my heart like you’d claimed that barren patch of land I met you in and grew love from it like you did the lavender that helps me rest at night.”

He was relentless with his musings, tilting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to make sure you were accepting every word he was giving you. The glitter of your eyes on him promised him that. 

“Then I brought you home, and you continued to grow your love in my fortress and cared for my people hundreds of leagues under the sea. They love you, I love you, and I would never let another dig their hands into the soil you cultivated, no matter who they are or how noble their blood. Both Meropide and I have accepted you as ours, so the place of duchess is rightfully yours.”

Now, you really were going to cry. You could hear the shrieks of anguish from the many attendants who'd doting on your makeup all afternoon. Wriothesley only chuckled and fetched his handkerchief, using his hold on your chin to tilt your face so he could dab at your tears before they smudged your mascara.

You sniffled and spoke through your shaky breaths, "I love you and Meropide more than I've ever loved anything else. I'd be honored to be your duchess."

Without another word, you leaned up your teary face to press an ardent kiss to his lips---like you were sealing a contract between the two of you.

You'd be his, and he, his fortress, and the entirety of his duchy would be yours in return.

Yours to continue to bless with life, yours to care for and maintain, and yours to bring to blossom full of love---he'd watch and admire you every step of the way.

And you'd both be confidently fibbing to the inquiring other guests tonight that you had indeed left your wedding bands at home.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x fem reader #wriothesley x you #genshin x reader fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wriothesley imagines

[erospandemos]

Winter's mission

Aespa Winter x Reader

Winter finds your secret diary and most importantly, your secret bucket list. Upon the discovery, she decides to fulfil every possible desire. The problem, however, is that every aspiration revolves around Winter herself.

Minjeong and you agreed to do a marathon to watch the whole drama you had both been saving up to watch. Your friend came to your house right before lunch so you could start eating with the first episode. It was just like the other times: she promised she wouldn’t get too invested and after two episodes she’d start screaming from frustration when the main leads were this close to kissing but backed away. You’d be laughing and she’d be yelling at you because it was a serious matter.

In the late afternoon, Minjeong got hungry. She begged you to get her favorite snack, the pepero sticks. You bought them two weeks ago and put them somewhere in your kitchen but didn’t remember at all. Still, your friend wanted one thing and one thing only. You tried to refuse but when she showed you her googly eyes and puffed her cheeks, you gave in. She was just too cute.

So you stood up and reluctantly made your way to the kitchen.

However, you made a big mistake by leaving the room without checking the stuff on your table, most notably your diary. Minjeong saw it clearly, the weathered journal peeking out from under a pile of books on the bedside table. She knew it wasn’t a notebook because she’d been your friend long enough to have memorized all your preferences and you were too cheap to buy such a nice diary.

Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment to think if she should do it or not. She chewed her lower lip, with a light sense of guilt. You were gone to find some hidden and forgotten snack, so it should have been long enough—she had enough time. The more she waited, the more dangerous it was. 

Minjeong made up her mind. She lifted the books and took out the notebook. She sat cross-legged on your bed, ready to reveal your secrets. As she contemplated opening it, a rush of adrenaline hit her veins, causing her heart to quicken and her muscles to tense up. She hasn’t even read a single letter yet but sweat was already dripping down her back.

“I probably shouldn't be doing this, but... what's the harm?” she whispered to herself, sighing deeply. “Okay, just a peek. It won’t hurt anyone.”

Minjeong took one last deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she started to open the diary. The creak of the leather seemed to echo in the room, she was alone. She started reading the entries, a mix of doodles, random thoughts, and personal reflections. 

Some of the pages only had silly ramblings like how you noticed a game’s sale too late and had to pay 5 dollars more. Minejong giggled lightly but the adrenaline was still there. Her breathing became shallow, her gaze scanning the words on the page. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon an entry that caught her off guard.

She raised her eyebrow as she started reading it: 

SATURDAY 21 OCTOBER, 2023 I’m pretty sure Minjeong is playing with my heart. She’s been acting a lot more touchy lately. She was hugging my arm, hugging me and constantly touching me. She hugged me before as well since we’re friends but it just feels different these days. It’s probably because I’m a boy and she’s a girl. Even if we’ve been friends for a long time, she’s too cute for me to ignore. I think I like her. My heart beats faster when she’s around. I get nervous and fidgety. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s quite weird.

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Her curiosity took over her, she had to know. She had to know more. 

TUESDAY 7 NOVEMBER, 2023 I almost had a heart attack when I saw Minjeong with someone else. They were acting so friendly and I just felt my heart shrink. I’m not attractive compared to them. Maybe I should go to the gym. But that wouldn’t change my face, would it? Dear Diary, I really really like her.

“Wait, this is all about me?” Minjeong whispered to herself. She skimmed through the stupid entries and found even more pages about herself. She covered her mouth, blushing madly. “Oh my… I had no idea.” She couldn’t help but smile and continue flipping through the pages.

TUESDAY 14 NOVEMBER, 2023 Minjeong is back at it again. I’ve met her eyes a couple of times today and it was simply enchanting. The way her face lit up when our eyes connected mate my heart skipped a beat. She looks honest. Happy and amazing. I wish I could see her eyes every day, see every feeling in her pupils, knowing she wouldn’t be afraid to hide anything from me. Of course, I’d do the same. Minjeong is already a great friend, she’d be a great girlfriend as well. I thought about confessing for the first time. It was really a stupid thought. There is no way someone like her would accept me. I’m just a bum. I don’t even like myself, why would she? Eventually, someone will come and take her away, I just have to accept it. I love you, Minjeong.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER, 2023 Am I a pervert for looking at Minjeong’s legs? My eyes were glued to her thighs. Maybe for a couple of minutes. Yeah, that’s definitely too much.

Minjeong glanced down at her shorts and bear legs and suddenly she felt too exposed. She regretted wearing such revealing clothes.

MONDAY 27 NOVEMBER, 2023 I want to love Minjeong properly. She’s such a perfect girl. I want her to feel loved. I’d cuddle and hug her a lot if she was my girlfriend. I daydreamed in class instead of listening to the literature lesson and this thought came to me: Minjeong backhugging me. That’s it. That’s the thought. It was enough to make me a blushing mess. Dear Diary, I have a problem.

Minjeong didn’t feel exposed anymore, she just felt warm and flustered. “You silly…” Minjeong said. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then hugged the diary close to her chest. “I never knew you felt this way…”

Fearing that you might be coming back, Minjeong thought that she had read enough and it was time to put it away. She just stood up and was about to put the diary back on the desk when a piece of paper fell out. It looked like it was sandwiched between the hardcover and the last page. She picked it up from the ground and read it.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Top marks Try skiing Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

Minjeong didn’t have the time to put it away when she heard your steps. She just stuffed the diary under the books and kept the paper in her pocket.

Minejong quickly recollected herself. She straightened out the few messy strands and the wrinkled clothes. She took a deep breath and shook off the agitation, anything could have been suspicious in your eyes. You weren’t dumb—although you weren’t exactly smart either—so Minjeong had to be extra careful. That said, she had to think of a way to put the little paper back in place because surely you would have noticed the next time you were going to write about how fantastic the latest wrestling match you watched was.

“Here you go,” you said, throwing Minjeong the box of pepero. “You had me looking everywhere for those… fortunately they were still good.”

Minjeong smiled, picking up the box from her lap, a natural grin on her small lips. “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

You had no words to reply but only another smile. You exhaled, letting your body drop lifeless on the bed, beside your friend. The episode was still at the 26:56 mark, and you were recollecting what happened previous to the still frame.

“Oh, by the way, I also got a bag of chocolates,” you said. You took the plastic bag you left on the corner of the folded covers. It was full of those little bite-sized chocolates you’d buy to decorate your tables in the living room when someone was coming over during the winter; or for a bunch of kids. But you got the smaller version, which also cost a couple of bucks more because it was of “fine quality”.

“No way!” she said, letting go of the pepero, forgotten like it never meant anything to her. You looked at the Oreo-looking box and blinked a few times. Why did it feel so relatable?

“You know I love chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I bought it,” you said. 

When you pressed the space bar on your laptop and the episode restarted, the room fell into a comfortable silence. You could only hear the dialogues coming from the speakers and Minjeong cutely munching on her peperos. You were grinning widely, having more fun staring at the hamster beside you than the scenes on the screen themselves.

Minjeong on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy. Sure, the joy from her discovery was still lingering in her mind but so was the shock. The crunchy sticks of chocolate and biscuit took the roles of her nails, on which she nervously munched without stop, box after box. She would steal glances at you from time to time, and seeing you smile so happily, laughing and passionately talking to her, made her feel things she had never felt before.

She wasn’t sure if it was indigestion or butterflies in her stomach, but the thing was, Minjeong couldn’t focus on the screen at all. Her mind was still processing the revelations from the secret diary, she tried to act nonchalant, and fortunately, you couldn’t see her well, but her cheeks were betraying a faint blush.

“The cat is so round, it looks like a bag of potatoes, don’t you think?” you laughed.

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. Winter cleared her throat, “So, what do you think will happen next in the drama?”

“What do you mean? They’re like—they’re gonna kiss. Look at the romantic tension. I bet it’s gonna be a cliffhanger.”

“Right, right…” Minjeong continued to stare at the screen. Didn’t the protagonists kinda look like you and her…? She swore they were very similar at that moment. Somehow she could see herself in the shoes of the girl, while you could have been the protagonist, with that manly shoulders and features—ehem—you had the same eyes. Yes, that’s exactly what Minjeong was thinking, or at least, that’s what she wanted to think.

The protagonists, Ji-hoon and Soo-mi, stood close, their eyes filled with emotions, concealed, to the point of overflowing. Just like her and you.  Ji-hoon tenderly reached out, cupping Soo-mi's face in his hands. With a soft smile, he gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, his touch lingering. His fingers looked very gentle, you always have been gentle too, maybe if it was you doing, it would feel… 

“Minjeong.”

“What?!” The girl squirmed lightly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly self-aware. The romantic scene felt really closer than usual and her facade was slowly falling.

“I think it’s about to happen,” you said, still keeping your eyes attached to the screen. “They’re gonna kiss, I feel it.”

“Uh,” Minjeong started, terribly awkward. “These romantic scenes are always so... uh, intense, right?

“What do you…” you turned around and saw her heated cheeks. You looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You're blushing, Minjeong. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Me? Blushing?” she fumbled. “No, I'm perfectly fine. It's just... you know, the drama.”

On the screen, the air crackled with tension as Ji-hoon kept cupping Soo-mi's face, his eyes searching hers for consent. Without words, their lips finally met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of their hearts and the intoxicating warmth of the embrace.

Minjeong was watching everything but the kiss. 

“You're not usually this flustered,” you observed. Minjeong’s behavior was really weird. You looked back at the screen and it all looked normal. They were in their slowed-down shot with the ballad in the background.

“Yeah, well, it's just a really good episode,” she said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You tried to look at her by bending down and tilting your head but likewise, she turned around to avoid you. It looked strange but you just continued to watch the drama, accepting her answer.

As the episode concluded, Minjeong heaved a silent sigh of relief. She attempted to divert attention by reaching for more snacks, hoping to distract both herself and you from the lingering awkwardness.

You continue to the next episode. 

You turned around and tried to get one of the snacks that were on her side. As you stretched, your hand brushed against Minjeong’s thigh. At the touch, she jolted with a loud gasp. It was like you sent a shock through her body.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said apologetically, retrieving the box to your side.

“N-no problem at all,” she stammered.

You continued to watch without thinking much of it but Minjeong was completely on the edge. When you shifted and adjusted yourself, your leg would accidentally brush against hers. Or when you wanted to take the water bottle and you’d hug her shoulder by mistake. The blush on her cheeks continued to grow and she started to want to get out of there.

Your touches continued, all the ones that you were both accustomed to before, now sent a ripple of flustered nerves through Minjeong. 

Eventually, the episodes ended and you came to the end of the drama. Minjeong’s nerves finally relaxed. You helped her gather her things and after chatting for a while, you bid her goodbye. You insisted on bringing her home, especially since it was quite late but she didn’t want to hear any of it and ran outside.

Minjeong slept well that night. She had all sorts of dreams and fantasies—was someone in the hallway, they’d think an actress was rehearsing for her future role. When she woke up, however, it was another story. Thanks to the newly found clarity of mind, the realization hit her harder than ever.

You liked her.

You! You.

You liked her.

Minjeong sighed and sat up on the bed.

She liked you.

Yes, she.

She liked you.

Now she had two options: either ignore it, act like nothing happened, which was both the easiest and hardest choice she could take; or deal with it. Minjeong didn’t like the idea of ignoring what she found. It would be like playing with your feelings. Really, you confessed indirectly, she has read all of your honest words, letter by letter, and now knew all of your feelings. You confessed to her. 

But she also didn’t want to talk to you about it. Because, well, it was embarrassing. 

What if you didn’t feel ready for a relationship? Maybe your journal was an outlet for your stress where you poured out all of your feelings knowing full well you couldn’t be with her.

Maybe it wasn’t a journal, maybe it was a fictional diary that you were writing. Like some sort of diary of a wimpy kid but for lovers.

Maybe you were writing about another girl. You knew that someone could have found your diary, just like Minjeong did, so you used another name. You could have been in some sort of Romeo and Juliet type of affair and the repercussions could have been deadly.

Minjeong was just making stuff up at this point. Let’s face it, you were just a normal person and what she read were real journal entries. 

She sighed heavily. “Why?! Why did I…” she yelled. Minjeong closed her eyes and remembered your words—how sweet they were, how honest and meaningful—then shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

The piece of paper was still on the desk, crumbled and waiting. She got up and held it in her hand, skimming through your bucket list again.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Try skiing Top marks Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

She just ignored your last desire—the crossed-out line was still pretty readable but it was too embarrassing right now. You have helped her a lot until now, making most of the dreams from her bucket list come true. Yet, she has never had the chance to pay you back. Minjeong thought carefully and realized that this was the perfect occasion. She liked you so she would have liked it too and if you didn’t want to get into a relationship with her, at least she could fulfill a couple of your desires.

Minjeong clutched the paper with determinatione; it was her mission.

Objective 1: Secure the date

When Minjeong made up her mind and got up, two steps from the door of the room, she realized one thing: she had never been on a date. Such a pretty girl like Minjeong should have been asked out at least ten times by now. Especially since she wasn’t exactly shy or intimidating. And truly she had been asked out, but she never accepted. She’d say she had to focus on her studies, or that she wasn’t ready, or that it wasn’t the age for that kind of thing.

Minjeong turned while holding her chin, her eyebrow furrowed in deep thought. She had a location—the skating ring—that was a starter. But now, what do you do on a date? Minjeong tried to recall all the dramas she had watched: maybe she’d get some sort of idea. She has watched plenty of shows, surely there was something useful.

Characters would usually kiss each other ‘accidentally’ for example. Minjeong tried to imagine the scene: you and her walking in the frozen streets, her tripping and falling in your arms… some kids bumping into you, your lips brushing against her in a split second. Minejong started to blush terribly. “No, no, no, that’s not good,” she shook her head to get the thought out of her mind.

She was definitely overthinking this. You probably didn’t know any better than her and couples don’t really prepare that much before a date—it had to be natural. Minjeong decided to call you. There was a skating ring opened in the city during that period so that was the right occasion. 

She gripped her phone, inhaled and exhaled. “Just hanging out,” she pointed out. “That’s right, don’t stress Minjeong, it’s just a hangout between friends.” 

After Minjeong decided what to say and prepared all the possible dialogue options, which took about half an hour, she dialed your number and called. She couldn’t even calm her mind that you already picked up.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey,” Minjeong answered.

“Oh, Minjeong, how are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea for you.”

“Shoot.”

Minjeong swallowed her saliva. “How about we go skating at the ice rink? They opened it in the city center, I think it would be fun.”

“Skating, huh? Uhm… well, I’ve been thinking about it,” you said, you’ve been really thinking about it. It was such a weird coincidence that Minjeong asked you about it. However, “I haven’t done that in ages. Are you sure I won’t end up flat on my back?” You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your crush.

Minjeong laughed jokingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back… or, well, I’ve got your back if you do fall. But trust me, you’ll learn pretty quick.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really convinced.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. They also sell hot chocolate and crepes. I’ll buy it for you if you come!”

“Free food? Okay, you’ve convinced me. When do you wanna see each other?”

“How about Saturday? We should both be free.”

“Sounds good. Alright, thanks, see ya.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hung up, Minjeong started jumping around like a maniac. She felt like she was a kid again, so excited and happy. She just forgot to tell you at what time to come. Whatever. She could have texted the time later. Plans were just going as planned.

The plans did not go as planned.

Objective 2: Find a replacement

Minjeong spent her whole morning preparing for the date. She looked at all the possible cafés and restaurants and food places you two could go to in case you got hungry. Then she looked at all the possible outfits she had in her wardrobe. She called her friend, Karina to help her decide the clothes. They ended up giggling and talking for about 5 hours about Minjeong’s story with you and Karina’s love interest. 

In the end, they decided to go for the simplest sweater and pants they could find. It was to “not hide Minjeong’s natural beauty” as Karina put it. Whatever that meant.

You met right at the entrance of the city. You were already waiting there. 

You found it hard to recognize Minjeong. She was bundled up in a big cozy scarf, a huge hat, and big gloves. The jacket was also quite thick, making her look like a snowman. You knew Karina didn’t let her go out of the house before dressing her up properly. You smiled, she looked very cute.

The both of you made your way to the ice ring talking about uni, friends, work, and so on. Being with Minjeong was always a pleasure as you could confide in each other about whatever problem or worry you had.

Hand in hand, you scrolled through the city, the subtle crunch of snow beneath your feet providing a serene soundtrack. There were a lot of people on the street. You came early but the sky was already starting to darken. 

When you reached the ice rink, you gulped. Minjeong instead, was extremely excited. You paid for the skate shoes, slipped them in, and stepped on the ice. 

The ice beneath your skates glistened brightly, it felt like ice, ready to crack, ready to swallow you in case you fell and gave in to the demons of the cold. Minjeong was still excited. She was already laughing while looking at the small kids tumble down the ice like bowling pins. 

Wrapped in the warmth of your scarf and being alongside Minjeong, provided you enough confidence and comfort to aid your attempt. You stepped slowly, your legs shaking. Your friend held your hand and guided you through the edge of the ring until you found the right rhythm to continue on your own.

Your confidence grew, maybe too much, and you tried to make a tight turn and slipped. Your heart skipped a beat and your life flashed before your eyes. Fortunately Minjeong, with lighting reflexes, reached out and grabbed you. 

“Oh my god, thank you Minjeong, you saved my life.”

“Be more careful!” she laughed.

After the incident, you started to be more careful and continued skating. 

At one point, tiny snowflakes began to fall down the sky, soft and gentle. Both you and Minjeong started smiling brightly, thinking it looked like a scene from a romance movie. It really looked like what you’ve always dreamt of, skating with Minjeong under the snow.

The snowfall intensified, turning the ice rink into a snowy spectacle. It added a layer of magic to their already enchanting evening, and you continued to skate with carefree joy, leaving behind a trail of swirling snowflakes. However, as the snowfall grew heavier, the twinkling lights began to fade, and a voice over the speakers announced the temporary closure of the rink for safety reasons.

Minjeong panicked. She couldn’t end the date this way. 

“Isn’t that a shame?” you said, walking away from the ice ring. “Well, I still had fun nonetheless, thank you for today, Minjeong.”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted you. “Uhm, it’s still pretty early, wanna go back to my place?”

“Heh? Well, why not? Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

“Then let’s go.” Good job, Minjeong.

Objective 3: Look at the sky

You entered the pitch-black living room and turned on the lights. The room was well-lighted but still felt small and comfy, it probably was the darkness from outside the window. You glanced at Minjeong as she folded a blanket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. The air held a chill, a reminder that winter had firmly settled outside the confines of your makeshift refuge. 

She nonchalantly dropped a stack of DVDs onto the coffee table, the worn covers hinting at countless movie nights spent in this room. Minjeong leaned over the desk, planting her hands on the edge. Minjeong's gaze shifted to you, What do you feel like watching?"

I shrugged, my gaze scanning the room as if the answer lay hidden in the faded wallpaper. "Anything. Surprise me." She picked a random DVD, its label scratched and worn. She put the disc into the blueray reader and grabbed the remote. The sofa creaked as Minjeong plopped down, patting the cushion next to her. "Grab a blanket. It's gonna get colder."

You complied, dragging a fuzzy throw from the back of a nearby chair. You two draped yourselves in layers of warmth, settling into the groove of the well-worn sofa cushions. The silence enveloped you, a familiar companion that required no words.

Halfway through the movie, however, Minjeong looked at the sky: it stopped snowing. It was like the snow had purged all the previous filth between the clouds and smog and left it a pure black, only decorated by the glowing stars. Minjeong kept slapping at your leg and pointing at the sky until you turned around and the view stunned you.

Objective 4: Hold that hand

“Wow…” your friend whispered.

“Yep,” you said back. The two of you continued to watch the sky, while Kung Fu Panda 2 was becoming noise in the background and your conversation shifted to the sight. You raised an arm, pointing at the bright dots.

“You know, the color of a star indicates its temperature,” you said. “Hotter stars appear blue or white, while cooler ones look red.”

“How is it red if it’s colder?” Minjeong said, puzzled.

“It’s about the waves of light emitted. To put it simply, cooler stars emit less blue light so they look red.”

Minjeong smiled, “That's interesting, but you know, in astrology, stars, and their positions also play a significant role. I'm a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and it says a lot about my personality.”

As soon as you heard the word ‘astrology’ you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes, sliding down the sofa. Minjeong has already filled your head with that stuff to the brim. Whenever she had time or whenever she bought a magazine from the news kiosk, she’d start reading the entire thing of the signs, you don’t even remember what it was called.

“Astrology, Minjeong? Seriously?”

Your friend furrowed her eyebrows from annoyance and spoke defensively, “What? It's fascinating! Capricorns are disciplined, ambitious, and practical. I mean, doesn't that sound like me?”

“Disciplined? Sure. But practical?” you laughed. “You're the one who believes in star signs.”

“Well, you're just a typical Capricorn skeptic. But I bet you secretly find it intriguing.”

You chuckled and shook your head. You two laughed it off and the silence resumed. After a brief moment, where your breaths signed the passing of time, you noticed Minjeong’s glow in the dark. Your heart fluttered as you watched her profile against the moonlight. Sometimes you forget your true feelings for your friend, but they always come back. 

You sighed while turning back to the sky. “It's such a beautiful night, isn't it?” you whispered, masking the true meaning of your words because you weren’t really talking about the night. Both of you talked in codes, not on purpose but none of you could be honest. You were too scared of her possible answer and Minjeong was too scared to lose you.

“Yeah, it is,” she said softly. As you continued stargazing in comfortable silence, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions. The recent revelations from your secret diary still lingered in her thoughts, and her unspoken feelings were twisting and turning inside her. 

Her hand slowly crept up near you, a subconscious action maybe, a planned incident perhaps; but it was the perfect occasion. You felt her touch and didn’t think twice to hold her hand. The initial contact, when your fingers intertwine, sends a wave of warmth through you. The touch is surprisingly intimate, it felt like a bridge between Minjeong and you. In a way, her feelings were coursing through you.

Objective 5: Spill it out

“Today was perfect,” you say. Minjeong silently watches you with a soft smile. “You know, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment. To watch the stars with you…” your air suddenly blocked in your throat, “Well, I—” “I already know.”

“What?”

“I already knew it. That you wanted to watch the stars—and that you wanted to go skating… with me.”

You opened your mouth to ask her how but Minjeong was faster and pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, the title ‘BUCKET LIST’ was still visible. You panicked, your eyes flicking between her stupidly satisfied smile and your embarrassing, horribly written list of desires.

You gulped and started talking, stuttering, mumbling every word, “S-so did you see the di-diary?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god… I wanna die.”

“No, wait—”

“Forget everything Minjeong, no, well, you obviously can’t,” you blurted out, you didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry you had to read that. It was gross. I’m going to move out of the country, buy tickets, pack things, you’ll forget about me and I’ll start my new life—”

“I like you too!”

“What did you just say?” you stopped and looked at her with wide eyes.

Minjeong's admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound between you two was the soft rustling of the crumpled bucket list paper in her hands. Your eyes widened, locked onto hers, searching for any sign of jest or misdirection, but all you found was true sincerity. Her pupils stared at you, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"You... you like me too?" you stammered, hesitant and scared that you might have heard the wrong words.

Minjeong nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes. I like you. I read your list, and it wasn't gross. It was... endearing. Honestly, it made my heart race a little."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of relief and newfound anxiety. "I thought I'd scared you away with that stuff."

Minjeong chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not at all. It made me realize we share the same dreams, the same desires. I've been wanting to do those things too, you know?"

The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a warmth that settled deep within. You felt a connection, a shared vulnerability that made the revelation less daunting. "So... what does this mean?" you asked, your voice soft.

She leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "It means we don't have to dream about those things anymore. We can make them happen together."

A grin broke across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. "Yeah, together."

Minjeong's hand found yours, and this time, it wasn't just for a casual touch but a deliberate, reassuring connection. The stars above seemed to twinkle in approval as you both sat there, hand in hand, in the quiet realization that your shared dreams weren't just fantasies on a crumpled piece of paper anymore—they were possibilities waiting to unfold.

“There’s still a last wish on that list I can fulfill…” Minjeong whispered. She took a deep breath and went for it. 

She kissed you.

Minjeong's eyes, soft and inviting, met yours, and at that moment, the world outside faded into insignificance. 

"I've been wanting to do this," Minjeong whispered, her voice a delicate murmur that hung in the space between you. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The proximity between you became charged, the magnetic pull undeniable.

You didn't need words. The unspoken agreement lingered in the air, and with a gentle tilt of her head, Minjeong closed the distance. The first brush of her lips against yours felt like the tentative caress of a butterfly's wings, a delicate exploration that spoke volumes. It was a moment of hesitancy and boldness, a dance between vulnerability and longing.

You didn’t say anything else, the look in your and her eyes understood each other perfectly and you kissed again. The first one was a quick peck, a mix of fear and sudden braveness. The second one was the overflow of your feelings, a long and deep kiss, a slow fusion of warmth and connection. 

The world outside might have continued its relentless pace, but within the embrace of that kiss, time became elastic, bending to the rhythm of your shared heartbeat. It was a stolen moment, a stolen kiss, and yet, it felt like something long overdue, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring your lips together in this tender collision.

When the kiss finally broke, your lips naturally curled into a large smile while she hid under the blanket from the embarrassment. Minjeong emerged only a moment later, red and flustered. “Uhm, I wasn’t too bad, right? That was my first kiss…”

“It was my first too, and no, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I just like how I dreamed.”

Minjeong and you laughed together. This was just the start of the many more desires you two would fulfil together.

Mission completed

THE END

Written, 03 December 2023 - 14 December 2023

#aespa #aespa winter #winter #kim minjeong #kpop fluff #kpop #aespa fluff #winter fluff

[malestransforming]

Chronivac Twins

The moment I saw this AI image, I knew I had to write something. Probably one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

Special thanks to @octuscle for the image inspiration. Here is a link to their original story.

- - - - - - - -

Empty beer cans filled the table in front of the two men. The room was silent, the TV showing the console home screen, and darkness was creeping in from the night. The night was winding down, and the two friends were enjoying peaceful moment before the night truly wrapped up.

Mason breathed a heavy sigh, comfortable in his current state. He was clearly drunk, but happily drunk. He fished around in his pockets, feeling for the recent purchase he had received that day: a brand new Chronivac tablet. He pulled it out of his pocket, powering it on for the first time, watching the screen suddenly brighten, flashing the Chronivac logo. 

“Check it out!” Mason suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with his boldness. “I got this new Chronivac in the mail.”

Beside him sat Chris, Mason’s best friend since grade school. Chris was drunker than Mason was, with his eyes closed and his body still, but he too was in happy state of intoxication. 

“Oh yeah? What is that?” Chris slurred from the other end of the coach. The back of Mason’s head was resting on the top of the sofa, leaned back in an almost unnatural position. A massive drunken grin was plastered on his face, highlighting the comfortable state he was currently in.

Mason held up the sleek tablet to an oblivious Chris. A loading screen flashed again as the system booted up. 

“Yeah, it’s a tool that lets me change a part of my body. Actually it will change a part of both of us. They had a deal on the twins package.”

“Cool…” Chris breathed.

“Yeah. I know you have been feeling down lately, so I thought it would be nice to spice things up for you. Plus, you know you’re my bro. We’ve been buds since we were five years old. I figured it was time we made it official.”

Mason began tapping at the screen, swiping at different sliders and dials. There were dozens of different settings with labels like “Hair”, “Muscle Levels”, “Race/Nationality”… Mason balked at the overwhelming choices and options, but forced himself to stay focussed; this was a change he had wanted for a while.

“So I was thinking of doing some kind of mixed race. Hmm. Japanese and Mexican? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. I bet that would look hot. With jacked muscles, like body builders. And since we’re gonna be twins, you’ll get it too. Sound good to you Chris?”

Chris only smiled and laughed to himself, the way drunk people often do. It was clear he was not fully present in the moment. Mason took Chris’ drunken laughter as a sign of agreement and continued with the settings page. He slid up the muscle slider to the max, added jock personalities and details such as personal trainer and fitness influencer. He double checked the ‘Race’ tab, making sure that Japanese and Mexican were both checked off. Pleased with his work, he continued on to the last section, “Target Selection” and “Transform”. He allowed the device a few moments to calibrate before confirming the two bodies in the room. He double checked that the “Twins” button was selected and hovered over the Transform button.

“All right bro. This is it. See you on the other side!”

And with that he tapped the button. The screen went blank for a moment, creating a quick sense of panic in Mason’s heart, but reappeared with a white, animated progress bar.

Mason looked down at his hands and arms. “I don’t feel any different,” he said. 

He checked the screen again. The progress bar had moved up by one pixel and showed a time remaining of 1440 minutes. 

“Oh shoot! I set the transformation duration to be 24 hours. Well that’s okay. When we wake up tomorrow, we’ll definitely see some changes! Next time you see me Chris I’ll be be a huge muscled-out bro. And a completely different race. And so will you! We’ll be twins. Pedro and Miguel. We’re gonna be so fucking hot.”

A gentle and rhythmic breathing came from the other end of the couch. Mason turned his head and grinned at Chris who had passed out on the couch. 

“See you in the morning, Miguel,” he whispered. 

-

Bright sunlight was pouring into the apartment. The morning was late, but the day was still young. Chris stirred on the sofa; he was now lying horizontally on the couch, shirtless and in his underwear. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, rubbing his eyelids with a balled up fist, and stretching against the soft cushions of the sofa. His broad feet pushed against the far armrest, and his arms stretched off behind him. He sat up, and noticed his first change.

Looking down at his chest, Chris saw his pectoral muscles had ballooned out in front of him to a God-like proportion. He cupped his chest, making note of how his nipple had slipped down below his eye line, and squeezed the new muscle. 

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “Why do I have tits?” 

Mason launched himself off the sofa and dove into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent light clicked on, revealing the extent of Mason’s initial changes. Below his chest were the unmistakeable beginnings of 6-pack abs. Mason ran his fingers over top of his stomach, remembering the slight beer gut that had been there the night before. 

He leaned in closer to the mirror and begin poking and prodding his face. His nose seemed wider and his eyes were narrower. His lips were plumping as well, into two thick pillows. He ran his meatier fingers through his darkening hair; it seemed thicker, curlier and shorter than it had before. He pulled a strand and watched it bounce back into place on his scalp. 

The sound of a door slamming brought Chris out of his trance. He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the main room.

“Bro!” Mason called from the entry-way. “Are you up?”

“Yeah! What the fuck is happening to me?” Chris replied in anguish.

Mason came around the corner and Chris immediately became aware that the changes he was going through were also happening to Mason. Mason appeared to be several inches shorter, and Chris noticed that he was roughly eye-level to himself now. His chest and abs were similarly large and muscled as Chris’ were, except Mason’s shoulders and arms were much wider. Veins pulsed across Mason’ skin and over his bulging biceps. His nose and eye shape seemed strangely familiar, as did the plumpness of his lips. Mason noticed that Chris’ hair was shorter on top with a shaved, faded appearance on the side.

“Mason, what the fuck is happening? I pass out drunk and wake up all top heavy like this! And then you waltz in looking like that! What the fuck?”

“Chill out bro,” Pedro said. “And my name isn’t Mason anymore. It’s Pedro. And your name isn’t Chris, it’s Miguel. You’re turning out to be such a hot twin.”

Chris/Miguel was unable to get anymore words out as sharp pains coursed through his arms and legs. He hunched over, wrapping his growing limbs around his torso. In front of his eyes he saw the muscles in his arms and legs double, triple and quadruple in size, into massive slabs of muscle. His trap muscles ached and burned as the fibres inside re-stitched themselves, growing to match the mass of his arms and chest. Across the room Pedro grinned in anticipation, as his adonis belt thinned out, becoming lean and chiselled, into his tight pelvis and butt. 

“Miguel, we’re going to be so hot!” Pedro’s voice was deeper and more coastal sounding. His jock-instincts were bubbling in his brain, overwriting whatever personality he had before.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Miguel. I mean Chris.” Chris stammered. “How did you even do this?”

“Bro, it was the Chronivac. I told you last night. Just embrace it. I paid good money for this twins package.”

“I need to call them. There has to be a way to reverse this.” 

With a wide stride, Chris/Miguel walked over to where his phone was, but doubled over as a burning pain seared through his stomach. He squeezed with his hands, feeling the muscles underneath swell and grow under his touch. Before his eyes his abs went from flat and empty to being completely ripped. His waist got tighter as his adonis belt and hip muscles also tensed and flexed, just like Pedro’s had.

“Bro, I have a six pack!” Chris exclaimed, his voice cracking as it matched the timbre of Pedro’s.  

“They match mine, bro!” Pedro said.

Chris shook his head. If he could just call the company and explain what the problem was, then he figured he could stop the changes. He found his phone and brought it to his face, waiting for Face ID to unlock. The phone vibrated in his dark and meaty hand, refusing to unlock. In the black mirror of his phone, he saw a completely different face than the one he was used to. His nose was wider, and his jaw was leaner. His eyes had narrowed into Asian-like features and his hair was shorter and darker than before. His face was looking identical to Pedro’s, right down to the plump lips.

In a panic, Chris typed in his passcode and Googled the number for Chronivac. The phone began ringing.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other end.

“Hello, is this support? My name is Miguel, I mean Chris. My name is Chris. I don’t own your product, but my brother Pedro — I mean my best friend Mason does. He used the Chronivac on me last night and I woke up with big muscles and my face is looking Japanese and Mexican? And the same thing is happening to him! He says we’re becoming twins. This has to be against your Terms of Service! I didn’t agree to this.”

A dark skin spot formed on the back of Chris’ hand, spreading across his skin and up his bulging arms. His skin was darkening, to match his new ethnicity. 

“It sounds to me like it might be too late to intervene. Our records show Pedro and Miguel Watanabe.”

“That’s right,” Miguel interjected. He was Miguel, not Chris.

“Yeah,” the agent continued. “So your brother got the Twins Package, and since you are legally twins now, there’s nothing that can be done to change back the transformation. But it’s going to be great being a pair of super hot Latino-Asian influencers, right?”

“Yeah,” Miguel replied absent-mindedly, and in a voice that was deepening. “Thanks anyway. Peace.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone aside. Pedro wandered over and wrapped his hand around his twin brother’s shoulder. 

“It’s at ninety-nine percent,” Pedro said, indicating the transformation process on the Chronivac. 

Miguel felt another spasm in his thighs and legs and saw his skin was now completely browned and tanned now. His legs were thick and bulging, and so was the rest of his body. A wave of emotions came feelings rolled over his brain, and Miguel stood silently in place as his brain and personality adjusted to match his new physique. Pedro stood still for a moment too, as the twenty-two year old twins realized they could speak English, apanese and Spanish and had a long history of lifting weights and posting work-out videos on TikTok. The transformation progress bar clicked up one last pixel to one-hundred percent, snapping the twins out of their daze. 

“Bro,” Pedro said. “You wanna get a workout in?”

“You know it!” Miguel said, high-fiving his twin brother with a grin. 

#male tf #male transformation #jock transformation #reality change #male tf story #male body transformation #jockification #ai image #chronivac #race change #race tf #race transformation #latino transformation #asian transformation

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Three

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 1482

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two

Masterlist Here

You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.

When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”

“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”

“Why did she talk to you and not us?”

You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.

“So how does a lighter work?”

“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.

Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”

“Uh…”  you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.

“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.

“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.

“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.

It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.

Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”

You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”

You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”

You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.

You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.

However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.

“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”

They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”

“Uh…”

-

Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.

“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.

Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.

You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.

“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”

“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.

You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.

“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,

Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”

“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.

You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.

-

 The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”

You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”

“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”

“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.

Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”

Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.

It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”

“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.

“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.

“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.

Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?

Part four here

Taglist Sign Up Here

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean

Vikings Taglist: @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @youn-jo @batmandallyboy @retro-baby69 @lenasdmns @thelirofnorthlands @tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @bellroclucky03 @thefirebreather00 @sashadevil766 @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @weasleytwins-41 @daughter-ofthe-forest @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703

Series taglist: @chimtaesty-main @fan-goddess @finannn @paninibit @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @obviouslyitsriley @jasontoddorjasongrace @cathattery @daenaera-t

#vikings #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x you #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe ragnorsson x reader #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd ragnorsson x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd #sigurd snake eye x reader #hviserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnorsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[impala-dreamer]

Let's Dance

A Story from The Boys Universe

~If there's one thing she knows, it's that she fucking hates Soldier Boy. If there's one thing he knows, it's that he can change her mind.~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader

1,650 Words

Warnings: Show typical grossness and sexual situations. NSFW. Amazing Soldier Boy sex talk...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "someone gets punched"

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

There was moaning coming from the next room. Loud, sensual moaning, followed by a deep chuckle.

Butcher rolled his eyes and sighed.

Y/N and Hughie looked at each other with cringes on their faces. Even after all this time, after all the crap they’d been through, there were still things that shocked them, and what lay beyond the bedroom door would send them both into a tizzy.

For different reasons.

Butcher opened the door wide and groaned at the sight.

Soldier Boy was standing next to the big bed, bare beneath a silk robe. He had one muscular leg up on the frame, the other bouncing slightly as he jerked himself off. Naked women crawled on the bed before him, putting on a show that he was clearly enjoying.

Hughie immediately turned his gaze away, but Y/N was trapped. Something about the way his shoulder was moving, the way his back muscles flexed beneath the silk, had her captivated. She felt a wave of desire wash through her and she gasped.

Soldier Boy looked over his shoulder at the intruders, specifically Y/N. “Like what you see, doll?”

Her mind told her to hurl, but her body told her to hop onto the bed and join in.

“Fuck off!” she snapped, making a show of turning away while keeping one eye on him.

He winked. The son of a bitch winked and it was all Y/N could do to keep her knees from buckling.

“Yeah, yeah. You know you want some of this,” he laughed. “And you-” He turned a bit more and jabbed a finger toward Hughie. “Keep watching. You’ll learn a few things.”

Appalled, Hughie straightened up and shook his head awkwardly. “You- you’ll learn something, you- jerk.”

“Nice one,” Ben taunted. “Limp dick little bastard.”

Having had enough, Butcher stepped up and carefully but forcefully grabbed one of the women’s arms, tugging her up off of the bed.

“Excuse us, will ya lass?”

The women bolted out of the door, plump backsides and bare breasts jiggling as they went.

Ben huffed. “What the fuck, we were just gettin’ started.” He dropped his leg and turned towards the trio, fully exposed and unashamed. His cock was hard and long, hanging down between his legs and angled slightly to the left.

Y/N’s mouth watered and her pussy throbbed. Her stomach also churned, which she decided was a good thing since Soldier Boy was probably riddled with so many STDs that one drop of cum could wipe out a major city.

“You’ve been in here for hours,” Butcher corrected. “Time’s up. We’ve got shit to do.”

Ben smirked and shifted on his bowed legs, spreading them wide and tilting his hips forward just a bit. Green eyes honed in on Y/N and she stiffened.

“I think we can spare a few more minutes. Don’t you, Y/N/N?”

She swallowed hard and sucked in a heavy breath. “What? No.”

He grinned. “I don’t believe you.” He took a step closer. “In fact, I think your sweet little tutu is just soaked right now, isn’t she?”

Her brows raised in shock. “Excuse me?”

He moved closer, his dick swaying with each step.

“Got the love lube flowing. Your little clitty is throbbing. Pretty snatch just dripping for me.”

Her cheeks burned, fists clenched.

Soldier Boy puckered his lips, looking her over as he leaned in close.

“Betcha want me to fill up that juicy sausage wallet with my massive-”

Her fist connected with his jaw and he jolted back, more from shock than anything else.

He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender.

“OK, OK… I get it. Little Miss is a prude.”

Y/N seethed. “I’m not a prude, you jackass. You’re just a first class piece of shit. Shoulda left you frozen in that hell hole till doomsday!”

He laughed again and she lunged at him, ready to claw his perfectly beautiful eyes out.

Thankfully, Hughie grabbed her just in time, his skinny arm barring her from starting a fight she clearly couldn’t win.

Kicking and screaming, he lifted her off of her feet and out of the room, slamming the door closed behind them.

“I’mma kill him,” she warned, eyes shooting daggers through the door.

Hughie sighed. “We’d all love to, believe me. But we need him.”

“Yeah,” she barked at the door, “like a hole in the head!”

Streams of pale gray smoke curled in the air, wrapping around the lower branches and mixing with the aroma of the forest.

Y/N felt like she was following a skunk.

Half a mile in, she coughed and waved a hand in front of her face. “Do you really have to keep blowing that in my face?”

“Can’t help where the fucking wind blows,” he retorted, barely finishing the words before taking another long drag on his joint.

Disgusted, she pushed past him, deliberately knocking into his arm with her shoulder. “You could be less obnoxious about it,” she huffed.

Soldier Boy licked his lip and glared at her ass as she stepped in front of him to take the lead.

“What is your problem?”

She froze and spun in place, leaves crunching beneath her feet.

“My problem?”

He pursed his lips and deep dimples popped on either side. “Yeah. You’ve been riding my jock since the day I met you, giving me a hard time for fucking breathing.”

Again, her hands clamped into fists and she let out a seething breath.

“You are a disgusting, horribly warped, uninteresting, ridiculously clueless, sexist-”

“Whoa now.” He held up a finger. “I am not sexist. I fucking love women. All kinds of women. Old, young, fat, thin-” He paused, a slick smile creeping over his face. “Bitchy sluts like you…”

Something about the way he stared into her made her heart race. His towering height kept his eyes aimed down so that dark lashes fanned out over the green of his eyes. Freckles danced over the apples of his cheekbones; wet, pink lips puckered whenever he spoke.

She fucking hated him. He was absolutely, one thousand percent, the most… amazingly horrid… awesomely… handsome man she’d ever encountered.

Fuck.

“You could be hot,” he continued, lifting the joint to his lips. “If you gave a shit. Maybe get yourself one of those fancy push-up bras, put some fucking make up on; make an effort.” He took a pull and let the smoke out in a tight stream right into her face.

She cringed.

He grinned.

She reared back and took a chance, sending all of her strength into her arm and hoping to make some kind of dent, in his ego if not his face.

Ben grabbed her fist, completely covering her hand in his. He absorbed the blow and tightened his fingers around her hand.

“You really love doing that, don’t you?”

Y/N tried to twist her hand from his, but his grip was absolute. “Let me go.”

He laughed. “So you can hit me again?”

She glared. “Maybe.”

His hold loosened and he shrugged. “I could be into that.”

Slowly, his eyes swept down over her body and her pussy throbbed, betraying everything she was trying to hide behind her outward disgust.

“Fuck you,” she bit, wrenching her arm away.

“Yeah?” He smirked and dropped the end of his joint onto the dirt. “Come on, doll.” He opened his arms, crooked his fingers, daring her to take another swing. “Let’s dance.”

Another strike defended by his right arm.

A hard kick blocked by his left.

A slap to his chest; hot fingers wrapped around her wrist. A blow to his stomach, caught by his free hand.

She was locked in his grasp once again, but this time, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

She sneered, he growled.

She leaned in, he attacked.

His tongue was intrusive and wet. He tasted like whiskey and forty years of captive sexual frustration.

“You’re disgusting.”

He pushed her back into the nearest tree. She gasped.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you mean it.”

She spread her legs for his knee, parted her lips for his tongue.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He pumped his leg up against her, held both wrists tight in one massive hand locked above her head.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m about to make you love me.”

She melted against him, pinned against the hard, sharp bark of the tree trunk and the solid, warm bulk of his imposing body.

“Doubt it.”

He pawed at her breasts, licked at the pulsing vein in her throat.

“You’ll be craving me for the rest of your fucking life after this.”

Her eyes rolled; her breath caught. Her cunt fluttered on his thick fingers.

The orgasm hit her so fast, she wasn’t prepared. Her mind blanked as she came, no snappy comeback formed in her head. She slumped against the tree and lifted her mouth to his, wanting more, needing all of him so suddenly that it should have scared her.

“See?” he chuckled. “Told ya.”

Her hips rocked against the bulge in his pants, and her body shivered.

“Please…”

He licked at her lips, swiped his thumb over her clit. “Begging already? You are a pathetic slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes…”

His voice dropped to a deep whisper that wound through her head like silk. “Want me to fuck you right here? Out in the open where anyone could walk by and see what a dirty whore you are for me?”

Every speck of will crumbled and her cunt tightened on his fingers. “Yes!”

He stared down and grinned. “I bet you would.”

Swiftly, he pulled away, leaving her an aching puddle against the tree. He adjusted his slacks and cleared his throat.

“Maybe later.” He turned away and started off back down the path. “We’ve got shit to do.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05  

#the boys #fanfic #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you

[williamrikers]

On the subject of consent in recent BLs

In this analysis, I will take a look at several love scenes in recent Thai BLs, how they frame consent and the sexual agency of the characters, and why those matter.

(KinnPorsche deserves its own post: I’m sure people have already written in detail about how much emphasis is placed on issues of consent/non-consent throughout the show and how fundamental consent is to the relationship arcs of both KinnPorsche and VegasPete, and I won’t belabor the point here. Also, special shout-out to The Warp Effect for what it brought to the conversation about gay sex, but TWE isn’t technically a BL so I decided not to include it in this analysis.)

I am going to take a closer look at the following shows in this essay: Not Me, The Eclipse, A Boss And A Babe, Step By Step, and La Pluie.

Not Me and The Eclipse predate the other shows by two years/one year respectively, but I feel it is valuable to include them here because both show very explicit negotiations of consent that I feel are spiritual successors to the wonderful scenes we’ve been getting in the other three shows.

Why am I even writing this? There used to be an unfortunate tendency in the genre to have a power imbalance between the “seme” and the “uke” character, which translated into the seme deciding when to have sex and what kind of sex to have—and even though recently, several shows have done good work in dismantling the seme/uke dynamic and questioning the associated stereotypes, it cannot be denied that the archetypes are still an important part of most BLs, and even in cases where the tropes are played with and questioned, understanding those subversions still requires a knowledge of and familiarity with the original tropes on the part of the audience.

However, gone are the days of Until We Meet Again and Dean’s “I’ve waited long enough, make sure you’re ready.” (I enjoyed UWMA a lot but that was. Yeah. Not Great.) Now, we see characters actually talking about and negotiating their limits, and doing what feels good to them.

Let’s start from the very beginning. Not Me was an absolute trailblazer in this regard, and not mentioning it here would be a gross oversight. The first time Sean and White have sex, it happens in their version of the beach episode. (Which, in Not Me, is the two characters briefly living in a tent inside an abandoned building. This show is the best.) Sean and White are removed from their usual environment and protected from the outside world by two barriers: the walls of the old house and the tent that’s literally enveloping them and giving them a space that is unequivocally theirs, shared, in which neither one of the characters has any sort of power over the other. And what happens in that space when they’re about to have sex is extremely interesting: the first thing Sean asks is whether White is afraid of him, which White denies. The following exchange goes like this: White: "So, what are we doing?" Sean: "What should I do to you?" White: "That’s up to you." (Watch the whole scene here.)

I find this exchange incredibly meaningful because this already turns the seme/uke dynamic that can be found in a lot of other shows on its head. OffGun as a branded pair can easily be stereotyped into the seme/uke dynamic just because of their physical appearances, and clearly spelling out that both characters have agency in this scene is incredibly important.

And then it gets better! Sean assumes that White is sexually inexperienced (which is not true but the fact that White was actually in a relationship with a woman back in Russia never comes up again after the pilot episode, so maybe the show expects us to assume this, too), and suggests they try different things and White can tell him what he likes and doesn’t like. Compared to the stuff we’re getting now, this scene isn’t very high heat at all, but it’s one of my favorite intimate scenes ever because them asking each other “Do you like this?” after every kiss, every touch, is so incredibly unique and transports a wonderful sense of figuring out sexual pleasure together, as a couple.

Sex in Not Me is not something one character does to another, it is something that is discovered and shared together, and we even get an afterglow scene in which they gently tease each other about their fast beating hearts. (And don’t get me started on the importance of White choosing to ask Sean whether Sean is okay with White not being like Black in that moment right before they have sex, because he doesn’t actually want to have sex with Sean as Black! He wants to discover and share intimacy with Sean as White, as himself, not as his brother! The layers!)

Anyway, I think that scene paved the way for a lot of the conversations around consent we’re now getting in BL, just because it is so explicitly, unashamedly putting forward a definition of sexuality that has nothing to do with one character actively giving and the other passively receiving, but frames intimacy as something that is built together. (More on giving and receiving later!)

Now, moving on to The Eclipse. I decided to include the first time Akk and Aye have sex for a different reason: while we don’t really see them actually talking about consent, we see them practicing non-verbal consent. Let me explain. Akk’s and Aye’s whole thing is teasing each other. At first, Aye is usually the one doing the teasing, but Akk gets the hang of it towards the end of the show and teases his boyfriend right back. When they’re in Akk’s childhood bedroom together, Aye clearly alludes to the fact that he thought they might use this opportunity to have sex for the first time, which Akk pretends not to understand, all while alluding to it himself. I love this guy. (Watch the whole scene here.) Anyway, Akk says he wants to sleep, lies down and once again, tells Aye jokingly he just wants to sleep, clearly expecting Aye to do what other BL protagonists do at that point and not take no for an answer (sidenote: I HATE the “saying no as foreplay” trope with a passion and as far as I’m concerned it should die already).

However, Aye is not like other BL love interests, and he backs off. He stops touching Akk, lies down with his back to Akk, showing Akk that he takes him by his word: if Akk says he wants to sleep, Aye is going to let him do just that. So now, it’s on Akk to say that, no, that’s not what he meant, can Aye please come back to cuddle. And then Akk is the one to escalate from cuddling to kissing, which is extremely important: we know that Aye has been ready to have sex with Akk since forever, it’s Akk who’s been having hangups about intimacy this whole time.

They don’t put consent into so many words on this show, but Aye shows Akk that he respects his limits and that Akk only has to tell him he doesn’t want to do something and Aye will take him at his word.

So, these are, to me, two foundational scenes of establishing consent: one that shows consent as something that is established verbally, as an ongoing conversation, and one that shows consent as something that is established physically, by showing your partner that you respect their choices and limits by way of simply acting accordingly.

Now, let’s get into the fun part: scenes we got so far in 2023. I’m writing this post on the 13th of June, and I’m sure this year still has some great things in store for us, especially because Step By Step and La Pluie are both ongoing and neither of the main couples are actually together yet at time of writing. However, they’ve both already given us AMAZING scenes on the topic of consent, so I feel it is worthwhile to write about those already.

I want to start off by talking about A Boss And A Babe.

Let me just preface this by saying that the intimate scenes in ABAAB are some of my all time favorites in BL ever, because in them, sex is something that is just so normal. When Gun and Cher have sex, we don’t see them very passionate, excited, reluctant or wide-eyed innocent (which are some of the emotions traditionally associated with sex in BL). On the contrary, in every single scene that shows them being intimate, both characters are incredibly calm. They’re certainly happy to be with each other, but in a subdued way. Someone described their second intimate scene as them seeming like they’ve been married for a few years. They’re both just… incredibly normal about having sex with each other. It’s simply something they like to do together. It’s a part of their romance but it’s not more or less important than any other aspects of their lives.

And consent is at the very heart of it.

When Gun and Cher have their first time, we see Gun explicitly asking for consent two times: first, “Can I kiss you?”, then, “Can I do more?” The second one even comes with the promise that if Cher says no, Gun will immediately go to sleep without mentioning it again. And then it is on Cher to say yes, to pull Gun close and kiss him to show him that he is comfortable with taking things further. (In the show, these two questions were shown apart from each other, I cut together a version of the whole First Time Scene in its entirety, watch it here.)

Now, things get more interesting: the second intimate scene shows Cher initiating the encounter (watch the whole scene here). Cher pretty consistently falls into the uke category, both physically and as far as characterization is concerned, but he’s certainly not shy in the bedroom. And this time, he’s the one who asks for consent from Gun: Gun asks “You’re starting it?” and Cher’s response is “Can I?” Despite him being framed physically lower than Gun, basically at Gun’s mercy, he still seeks confirmation that Gun is okay with the way things are going. Not to overstate it, but to me, this feels revolutionary. Once again, we’re being shown that sex is something two people do together, as a shared activity, and that the “seme” character isn’t expected to just be up for it. He, too, has the right to say no.

On this show, sexual agency is taken extremely seriously, and it is clear that both Gun and Cher give each other space to decide what they’re comfortable doing. This is shown in non-intimate scenes as well: there are so many moments on ABAAB in which the characters negotiate physical touch and closeness, asking each other for hugs before actually hugging each other, Cher leaning on Gun’s shoulder in the car but not allowing Gun to touch him because that’s not what he’s comfortable with in that moment, and so on. (The only exception to this otherwise pretty consistent rule is the kiss in the car scene, which I’m still extremely confused about because it seems to go completely against Gun’s character. Who knows what happened there.)

Of course, the fact that so much emphasis is placed on negotiation and consent isn’t surprising on a show that has such obvious kink undertones and whose Our Skyy 2 entry basically consisted entirely of Dom/sub roleplay at work—I’m just saying, I think someone on the writing team is way into BDSM and knows all about the importance of enthusiastic consent from all parties involved, and I would like to send them flowers.

Step By Step hasn’t really reached the point where we can analyse the dynamic between the main couple (although we can take some educated guesses based on the interactions we’ve seen so far). However, last week’s episode had an extremely important scene between Pat and Put: Pat wanting to have sex with Put, then changing his mind mid make-out (watch the whole scene here). I really like the way this scene was done. No matter how shitty Put treats Pat at times, in this instance, he immediately understood and respected Pat’s change of mind without Pat even saying or explaining anything—at the end of the episode, Put says to Pat that Pat should tell Put when he feels ready to have sex. (We already know this will never happen because of course, Pat and Put are not endgame, but I do appreciate the sentiment.)

BLs rarely include a whole storyline in which the protagonist is in an actual, serious romantic relationship with someone other than his endgame love interest (hi Moonlight Chicken!), or if they do then just to up the angst factor. In this case, however, I feel that this scene raises our expectations for Jeng even further: if the guy who is definitely not a romantic match for Pat treats Pat with this much respect in the bedroom, then Jeng has to do at least that and then some. I do feel confident that Jeng won’t disappoint in this regard, but it’s fascinating to see a show frame this kind of respect as the absolute baseline minimum, with the endgame love interest expected to do even better.

Now, the one you’ve all been waiting for. The one that made me write this whole essay in the first place: La Pluie.

Oh boy. Where to start.

A week ago, we got an incredible make-out scene on Saengtai’s floor, which ended in Patts stopping the encounter because he could tell Tai wasn’t really comfortable taking things further—@bengiyo talked about that scene in detail here. And then, three days ago, La Pluie gave us the most unique, trope-defying, timeline-changing blowjob scene of all time, and I want to talk about it.

Tai and Patts are making out on their bed, Tai is not ready to go “all the way” and stops Patts from undressing him. We see a very realistic frustrated reaction from Patts, who nevertheless immediately stops and accepts Tai’s wishes—it is clear that Patts does not expect things to go any further at this point, and that he won’t pressure Tai into anything.

And then, Tai offers to blow him.

(Unfortunately, this show is only on iQiyi so I can't link to it, but you can get a good impression of the scene here.)

I mentioned the concepts of giving and receiving earlier: other people have said this more eloquently than me, but there is a tendency not only in BL but also in wider society to view sex in terms of giving and receiving, with a lot of expectations and stereotypes attached to the roles during different sexual acts. On other shows, that blowjob might be framed as a consolidation or an apology, something that the giver does out of a sense of obligation without enjoying it much. Not so on La Pluie! Tai is shown incredibly happy and satisfied afterwards, both when they’re sleeping next to each other, as well as on the morning after (see also @ginnymoonbeam's post about that here). Tai offered to blow Patts because he simply wanted to, not motivated by guilt or anything of that sort. And he genuinely enjoyed it! In the post I linked above, @bengiyo points out that La Pluie consistently centers queer desire, or more specifically in this case, male desire for a male body; much in the same way that the camera fucking loves Force’s body on ABAAB: the sensuality of the skin, the hands, the abs, the flat chests, the broad backs and shoulders of these men is explicitly emphasized, and Tai’s desire for a dick in his mouth is made absolutely crystal-clear. Of course, since this is a TV show and not a porno, we only see Patts’s thumb in Tai’s mouth instead of his dick, but the imagery, the implications, are clear as day.

And it is such a gentle framing, too: Patts caresses Tai’s lip lovingly, Tai opens his mouth slowly, seductively, then faces Patts’s crotch with a soft look on his face. We do get a clear sense of this encounter as tender, and gentle, and most of all, desired. Tai’s queer desire is at the heart of this scene, and at the heart of the afterglow scene as well. He wanted this man’s dick in his mouth, openly suggested it, showed Patts he was sure about his decision after Patts asked him whether he was, and ended up clearly happy and satisfied with the sex they had. This post, also by @bengiyo, goes into more detail on that.

This, once again, shows us sex as a conversation rather than a series of predetermined acts, shows us sex as a shared activity, as something that can be wonderful and intimate and make people happy without following what society views as “the correct steps”. I think this is extremely important because one part of queer identity is figuring out one’s own relationship to sexuality, one’s own desires and needs, and BLs that ignore this aspect fall a little short in my opinion. Sure, those men are kissing, but do they experience queer desire? Do they experience joy in their queer desire?

For me personally, a show that does not shy away from these questions is a lot more meaningful than a show that does, and consent is at the heart of it all. By framing sex as a conversation, as something that is built and shared together, the shows I looked at here are actively positioning themselves against the idea that there should be predetermined roles for partners during sex, and instead suggest that queer joy can be found in communication and consent. Understanding sex and intimacy as something that is built together, with both partners as equals in conversation, is just as radically queer as a man waking up with a smile on his face after giving his soulmate a blowjob the previous night.

And quite honestly, a male character who clearly, passionately, unquestioningly communicates that he wants a dick inside of him—that is incredibly sexy. But maybe that’s just me.

#*mine #not me the series #the eclipse #the eclipse the series #a boss and a babe #step by step #step by step the series #la pluie #la pluie the series #i said ''is anyone going to write a 3k meta analysis on this topic'' then didn't wait for an answer

[queenie-official]

‘Friendship’ Modern!Ani

Main Masterlist

pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x reader

summary: ani and reader search through the attic on a rainy day

a/n: this is just a fun little oneshot i wrote to show off more of reader and modern!Ani’s dynamic 🙈

Boxes, lots of boxes. why were there so many boxes? how much of this stuff did your mother even need? you’d opened about 20 different ones and not one of them had what you were looking for.

you and Anakin have been digging around the attic for well over an hour now, the only thing you’ve successfully found was more dust.

honestly when you had insisted Anakin come over to spare you from a bored rainy day, and then proceeded to force him into helping you recover an old shoe box you knew for a fact your mother placed somewhere in this attic- you figured your efforts would have been successful by now.

a sharp gasp from Anakin draws your attention from the box you’re currently rummaging through.

“What did you find it?!” you ask whilst turning to face him, watching as he sticks his arm further into the box he was working through to grab something.

“I Knew it!” he declares, making you confused as you stand up in a failed attempt to get a better look at what he found.

he turns to you standing up now as well and holding up a small toy Truck. “you did steal him from me!” he says with furrowed brows.

you squint at the truck in his hand and notice the face on the front of the truck, buck teeth sticking out. “i knew i wasn’t crazy” he adds, turning the small toy so the face was looking at him.

“hey that was mine!” you argue walking over to him to take back the Toy, just as you’re about to grab it he moves his hand out of your reach.

“you didn’t own any Cars toys” he counters, tightening his grip on the little truck. which once used to be the size of his whole hand and now fit perfectly in his palm.

“you don’t even like Mator!” you defend, going on your tiptoes in order to reach his hand but he just raises his arm even higher.

“i never said that, and he’s mine. I've been looking for him for years!” he holds you back with his free arm then takes a few steps back.

“Well he was my favorite” you pout, taking a step back yourself so that he couldn’t hold you back anymore. then quickly ducking under his arm to get to the other side of him, not willing to give up on this.

“He’s my toy!” he says frustratedly dodging each of your attempts to grab it back.

“you’re Eighteen Anakin” you glare at him and he glares right back.

“so are you!” right as you where about to lunge towards him and snatch the toy back you both here footsteps coming up the ladder leading into the attic.

“what on earth are you two-“ your moms voice rings out as her head pops up from the hole in the floor, cutting her own sentence short as she sees you and Anakin.

Anakin was frozen in place with his hand in the air holding up the toy and you were awkwardly grabbing at his arm trying to manually pull it down.

“you know, i really thought you two would have outgrown this” she says with a unamused face, crossing her arms and looking at you both with a disapproving shake of her head.

“i’m just taking back what’s mine” Anakin defends himself, quickly taking the opportunity to slip the toy in the pocket of his jeans when he sees you lower your arms embarrassed to have been caught fighting over a toy truck like two children.

“what are you both even doing up here?” your mom asks curiously, not moving up the latter further instead turning on the step so she could get a better view of you both.

“looking for something- speaking of, do you remember me having a shoebox i painted pink? it had gold glitter all over the lid and a bunch of stickers on the sides.” you walk towards your mom as you ask, describing the little box you remembered so clearly in your mind.

“y/n, we’ve had all the stuff up here packed away for years…you really think i’m going to remember a shoebox?” you groan at her answer. beginning to think she may have just thrown it out.

“forget it we’ll just keep looking” you say turning to look through another box, tuning out the conversation now happening between Anakin and your mother as you focus.

“what’s so special about this box anyway?” Anakin asks, standing beside you with his arms crossed.

“i told you already there’s stuff i put in it that i want.” he rolls his eyes at your once again Vague answer to his questions.

“honestly how do you even know what you’re looking for is in the box?” he retorts, nudging you with his shoulder before walking to open another box as well.

“because i know it’s in there” you grumble and then hear him let out a sigh, completely over this whole mini adventure.

at first digging through old stuff in the attic did sound at least a little bit fun. all the cool little nick-nacks you guys could find.

then it got way less fun when he found out there was something specific you guys would be searching for, making it seem more like a chore.

the sour mood solidified with each screech you let out when you came across a spider or anything that vaguely resembled one. he probably killed more spiders for you in the last hour then he had the whole year.

“okay well maybe if you were less cryptic with what it is we’re actually looking for-“ you cut him off with a screech, causing him to whip his head towards you only relaxing when he saw the smile on your face which meant he didn’t have to deal with another spider.

“I found it!” you say excitedly as you pull the shoebox out, bouncing on your feet happily as you look up at him.

“oh thank god we can get out of this leaky, dusty attic��� he says dramatically, mostly pulling your leg.

although he did get a bunch of water poured on his head earlier when the rain picked up and he happened to be under a hole in the roof neither of you noticed.

so it definitely wouldn’t be much of a stretch that he may actually really want to leave.

“alright now can i know what’s in the stupid box” Anakin asks as you both walk into your room.

you take a seat at your desk and then place the box down. “nope” you turn towards him in the chair and shoo him, he lets out a dramatic gasp.

putting up a hand to his chest to really sell the offended act. “i put in all that work and i don’t even get to see what it was for? that’s cruel”

you roll your eyes and start to push him away, he eventually gives in and walks over to your bed. huffing as he falls back onto it.

“i’ll show you in a minute just give me a sec” you mumble as you lift the lid off. and look in with a pleased smile.

there were unused stickers, some glitter that must of rubbed off from the lid, quite a few pieces of old candy. a Polaroid picture of you and Ani from when you were eight and both lost the same tooth, and lastly the very thing you were searching for.

Two beaded friendship bracelets.

one was blue and had white beads with black letters on it that spelt out Anakin. the other was orange, the same white beads with black letters on it only this time they spelt out your name.

“i wonder if the elastic is any good” you think out loud as you grab the orange bracelet, sliding it over your hand and admiring it as it sits on your wrist. a bright smile on your face as you stare at it.

you’d made them both, wanting to have matching bracelets with Anakin. only problem was you’d never ended up giving Anakin his, or wearing your own for that matter.

if you had given him it you knew for a fact he’d have worn it until it broke- most likely would have even asked you to make him another one to replace it.

well you knew that now, little you on the other hand had her doubts.

in your defense you had seen Padme hand out bracelets she made for everyone in the class the very same day you’d planned on giving Anakin the one you made and Anakin very clearly detested the idea of wearing one to her.

how were you supposed to know he would have worn the bracelet you made without a second thought if he’d known you’d made him one.

“okay close your eyes” you say excitedly, taking the bracelet you made for him all those years ago into your hand. standing up from the chair slowly, making sure the bracelet couldn’t be seen in your closed hand.

“what why?” you turn to face him with your brows furrowed, ready to argue with him on this but his eyes where already closed. you can’t help but smile at that.

“why ask if you’re gonna do it anyway?” you question him as you walk over, grabbing his arm that laid across his stomach. his eyes twitch slightly, wanting to open them and see what you were doing but he resists.

“because i know it annoys you” he teases, flashing you a shit eating grin. you roll your eyes, maneuvering his hand so you can slide the bracelet onto his wrist.

as soon as it’s on his eyes flutter open before you can even tell him to look.

you watch as his eyes soften slightly, then he sits up and turns his arm to get a better look. “when did you make this?” he says airily, brows furrowed in confusion. gently he traces over the letters of his name with his pointer finger, silently admiring it as if it was a piece of artwork.

“when we were like eight- it’s not important but i like randomly remembered i made them when i was scrolling on my phone earlier.” he snorts a laugh at your answer “you don’t have to wear it” you add before he can make a witty response.

“are you kidding me, i’m never taking this off” he says, pulling his hand away from you as if you were going to try and take it off of his wrist. you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“i’ll take that as you like it then?” you ask shyly, why you suddenly felt so awkward you weren’t sure- you’d never felt this way with Anakin.

“i love it, how come you never gave it to me when you originally made it?” you just shrug not wanting to give him the actual reason in fear it will make you feel even more awkward then you already do. thankfully for once in your lives Anakin doesn’t push.

simply smiling at you before looking back down at his wrist. you could tell he was being serious when he said he was never going to take it off…

“hey wait a minute- do you still have the Mator toy we found?” your brows furrow when you remember not having got it back from him.

his head snaps up and he gives you a smile right before standing up and dashing out of your room.

“Anakin give it back!” you shout before running after him.

“it’s mine!” he shouts back, throwing on his shoes in order to run out into the rain before you could catch him and then making a mad dash to his house as you struggle in the doorway of your house to put on your own pair of shoes.

some things would always be the same.

another one😎 as you can tell i love the childhood friends to lovers trope 💅✨ anyways i personally headcannon that Modern Anakin had a total obsession with the Cars movies when he was little which really started his love for cars in general. his future as a Car guy was inevitable at that point 🌝 hope you all enjoyed 💋💋

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #rots anakin #modern!ani #atoc anakin #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #modern! anakin x reader #modern!anakin x reader #modern!star wars #modern!anakin #modernau!anakin x reader #modern au #college anakin skywalker #college anakin #collage au #anakin skywalker x reader fluff #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x reader oneshots #anakin fluff #anakin x you #anakin fanfiction #queenie’s thoughts xx<3

[showtoonzfan]

So you are aware that a lot of the same criticisms that are frequently leveled at Viv can also be brought against Brandon Rogers right? His videos have bestiality, incest, racist sterotyping, misogyny (find me a single female character he plays that isn't a screaming harpy), and excessive swearing amongst countless other forms of tasteless humor.

And he's also one of the main writers for Helluva Boss who clearly adds a lot of his own humor to the script (the video he did with the Blitzo and Moxxie puppets really highlights this), yet no one ever blames him for how HB is written. It's always Viv that catches the blame, Viv that gets thrown under the bus.

Why is that? Why does she get held to different standards than Brandon Rogers does?

For me personally, I do mention Brandon frequently when I talk about how bad the show is. (And I won’t speak on his personal content cause I have no desire to watch it so don’t take me as a legitimate source if this stuff is true) but I will say the reason why Viv gets blamed the most is….well…she’s the creator, and in charge writing wise. She has the power over everything because it’s her show, so even if she wasn’t the one to write an episode, she’s still the one who decides what to keep in and what to take out cause it’s her story. She’s the one who goes over the scripts and decides “yes, let’s publish it like this”- and she’s the one who makes the decisions.

Not to mention that…let’s be honest, Brandon seems to be REALLY absent in the writing department, especially for season 2. Viv wrote episodes 1, 4, 6 and 7, while Adam Neylan wrote episodes 2, 3, 4, and 5, all of season 2. Throughout this entire season so far, Brandon hasn’t gotten anything but a story credit. He hasn’t written a single episode that was purely him or even collaborated with Vivzie or Adam to. The last time he had a writing part was back in episode 6 of season 1, and so far in season 2, all we’ve been getting from Brandon are mere ideas and concepts, while Viv and Neylan are responsible for the dogshit execution and writing.

Brandon handles the comedy aspect of the show, (or…at least he did in season 1) so don’t get me wrong, whenever I talked about season 1 episodes I always shitted on the humor, cause it’s really bad. Like…REALLY bad. But while Brandon isn’t a perfect writer either, people are pinning the blame on Viv and Adam recently cause they’re the ones writing season 2, not Brandon.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #reply #ask

[astarionmademewriteit]

Mission: Chaos

Astarion (Unascended) x (unnamed) f!reader/tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI. 18+ ONLY. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 5.6k

Tags: Smut; Sorta Act 3 spoilers but not really; Blood, gore and graphic violence; Oral sex (Male receiving); Tav is switch-coded; Mostly adventure; some cute lil fluff

Summary: Astarion and Tav are tasked with a mission only two rogues could accomplish. The looming danger sparks a heated moment. The pair continue to unleash chaos in their wake.

Part Two

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

I exited my tent at nearly the same time as Astarion stepped out of his. We look each other over, admiring our matching black tactical outfits. Our hoods were drawn, shrouding most of our facial features. Astarion had his matching daggers fastened to his hips and bow fastened to his back, while I had my twin scimitars crossed against mine.

I take in the way his muscular frame is outlined by the fitted armor–the various golden buckles and straps only adding to his lithe elegance.

He flashes me a sharp toothy smile that nearly stops my heart, “Are you ready, my love?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I sigh. I turn to the rest of the camp, our companions watching us patiently.

“Hells, that’s adorable,” Karlach laughs, her eyes aflame with delight and perhaps a hint of jealousy, “We should all get matching gear.”

Astarion chuckles and flourishes his hand through the air waving off her comment, “Please,” he breathes, “Not everyone can look this good.”

I roll my eyes playfully and turn back to the group. Gale steps forward, “Okay, you two. Do you remember the plan?”

Astarion rolls his eyes, clearly tired of having to recite the plan for the umpteenth time just to soothe Gale’s obvious dissatisfaction at being left behind. “By the nine hells, yes Gale,” Astarions says his name with unfiltered disdain, “Remember, Tav and I are the most capable individuals for this mission. The last thing we need is a wizard lumbering about and slowing us down.” He crosses his arms over his chest and frowns, clearly irritated with Gale’s questioning.

Gale plays it off cooly, throwing his hands in the air and backing away, “Just be careful and stay imperceptible. Minimal casualties and all that.”

I nod my head before grabbing Astarion by the arm and pulling him after me, ready to be done with the tense conversation.

This mission was a departure from our usual. We were never really the group to plan things out in advance, and our best laid plans usually entailed stomping into the middle of enemy territory and taking them out by sheer force of will. No, this mission was entirely different. It was a reconnaissance. We sought information–information that would surely aid us in beating the Absolute.

There was an unsuspecting enemy fortress in the lower city, crawling with a faction of Absolutists. It was rumored that there was information related to the Grand Design inside the heavily guarded stronghold. Information regarding the crown of Karsus, blueprints and maps revealing the location of the brain, and relevant information related to the Illithids were also rumored to be residing somewhere behind those looming walls.

As the only two rogues in our merry band of misfits, Astarion and I were the best chance we had at infiltrating and obtaining that information and walking out completely unscathed.

We enter the lower city, our long strides and unbreakable determination keep us moving forward. While I am deep in thought, recounting each step of the plan over and over again until it is etched into my brain, Astarion slips his hand through mine and squeezes it softly.

I look up at him pleasantly surprised by the small affection. It warmed my heart to know that he was comfortable with me in such a manner. After everything we’ve been through, and after everything he has had to endure, small affections like this show me that I make him feel safe enough to express his true feelings.

“Nervous?” I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully. I squeeze his hand back as we round a corner. The streets of Baldur’s Gate are bustling, even at night. Street merchants shout at passersby hoping to entice a drunk patron with deep pockets. The taverns lining the street are practically bursting at the seams, loud music spilling from their thresholds and backdropped by the low murmur of drunk customers seeking temporary refuge from reality.

“Ha!” Astarion laughs exuberantly, “Darling, a magnificent and deadly creature such as myself doesn’t get nervous! However, you looked like you needed some comfort,” He pulls his hand from mine and drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close. I try to stifle the stupid grin on my face, but I’m unsuccessful in my pursuit to remain cool and collected.

I glance at him and, despite his words, he does look concerned. “As long as we watch each other’s back, we will be fine,” I murmur, wanting nothing more than to soothe his worries and smooth the creases in his forehead that appeared as his brows knit together with concern.

He peers down at me, his bright vermillion eyes searching mine, looking for some form of respite, “Just like old times,” he amends. I flash him a sly smile and lean my head into his shoulder as we continue walking towards our destination. His scent engulfs me completely and adds to the growing comfort.

The stronghold grows larger as we approach its imposing presence. We untangle from our embrace and fall to the shadows, walking the perimeter of the building, being careful to avoid the sentry’s posted at every entrance and window. We round the last corner to the back of the fortress and eye the cellar entrance–two swordsmen posted outside the door with bored expressions painted across their empty faces.

Astarion leans over to consult me on our plan but I’m already stumbling out of the shadows, tripping over my feet and slurring my words, waving in their direction, “S’cuse me sirs, where the bloody hells is Elfshong taverns?” My drunk performance eases the tension between the guards and I can hear Astarion hissing a string of expletives from the shadows. I try not to break character, but getting under his skin was entertaining.

“Ma’am, this area is off limits,” they say as they approach.

I trip over my own feet and fall to the ground, letting a drunk giggle escape my lips. The men rush to my side to lend a hand. I look up at the guard and reach for his hand. As soon as I make contact, I yank him down closer and the flash of my scimitar is the last thing the guard sees before the edge slices across the soft flesh of his throat. Blood sprays through the air and before it can settle Astarion is at my side, burying the dagger in the heart of the second guard.

“Bloody hells, darling,” he says exasperated, already pulling his attention away from the corpses, “warn me before you do something like that again.” He laughs breathily, obviously roused by my efficacy.

I smile up at him–blood spray painting my face, “Careful my love, you almost sound impressed,” I laugh playfully as I wipe the blood from my scimitar on the guard's attire before slipping it back into its harness.

“Oh but I am,” he murmurs, “You never look so beautiful than when you are luring others to their death.” He cocks an eyebrow and I pull my shoulder to my chin, preening at his compliment.

We focus our attention back to the cellar door and I let Astarion approach it to examine the lock mechanism. I lean up against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest and propping one foot against the wall, scanning the alleyway to ensure no one approaches us.

Astarion crouches down beside me and inserts a lockpick into the keyhole, making short work of the mechanism. His eyes rake up my body as he pulls himself back to his feet. His vermillion eyes finally meet mine and I cock an eyebrow, letting him know I caught him staring.

“What?” He whines, “I can’t help it,” he shrugs his shoulders before entering the cellar. I follow close behind him, pulling a small dagger out of a built-in holster that Astarion had sewn into the pant legs. He draws his own daggers, his knuckles seemingly paler than normal as he grips the handle. We slink into the dank, cool cellar scanning for any signs of life that might threaten ours. Stacks of wine barrels line the walls, and rows upon rows of bottled wine litter the cellar. Even the floor is covered in a pool of spilled wine. Once we are certain no one occupies the cellar, we relax slightly, looking for a doorway that will lead us into the belly of the beast.

“It’s a wonder the taverns haven’t run dry with the Absolutists hoarding so much wine down here,” I whisper, taken aback by just how large of a supply there was down here.

Astarion continues weaving through the rows of wine, searching for a way out, “Darling, one thing that is never in short supply in Baldur’s Gate, well, aside from tadpoled freaks, is booze. Here we are,” he alerts, finding a ladder leading up to a hatch in the ceiling.

I nod and follow Astarion as he climbs the ladder. He pauses at the hatch, reaching out with his senses to what lay beyond. After a minute or two he pops open the hatch and crawls out, offering me a hand. He pulls me up quickly before securing the hatch.

We are in a large storage area, boxes of food line the walls. We listen at the wooden door, noting the footsteps of a couple of guards as they patrol the corridor that lay beyond. We sit in silence, counting the minutes between each round until we have a good idea of how long we have to exit the storage and take in our surroundings. Once the guards have both made another pass, we exit quietly, scanning the area for places to hide or rooms to search.

A large corridor stretches out in front of us, several rooms line the walls and numerous hallways branch off the main path into unseen corners of the fortress. The corridor is dimly lit, the sconces overflowing with melted candle wax while newly lit ones cast a faint glow that barely illuminates the great hall.

Astarion already looks to be regretting this mission, clearly exasperated by the number of rooms lining these labyrinths. I surge forward, counting down the minutes before another sentry passes through. The information we are searching for would probably be in a room of some importance, and by the looks of it none of these rooms will contain what we are looking for.

We slink along the walls, stopping every so often to listen for approaching footsteps. Astarion is close at my heels, glancing behind every so often to make sure we aren’t taken by surprise. An adjacent hallway moves out of view and I start forward, hoping to find something–anything.

I peak around the corner and eye two cultists conspiring quietly while they stroll away from us. I signal to Astarion that two enemies are up ahead and he nods, readying himself. We crouch low and stalk slowly in their wake, our footsteps imperceptible even to the pests that scuttle about nearby. I tighten my grip on my dagger, nearing the cultists as they fuss with impatience over the agonizingly slow takeover of Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion and I react simultaneously, wrapping our arms around the unsuspecting thralls and cutting deeply into their throats, effectively cutting off any attempt to alert the others. My victim falls backwards into me and I quickly begin pulling their body into an adjoining room. I dispose of their body in an unsuspecting corner and watch as Astarion follows.

“I’ll never get tired of annihilating these tadpoled freaks,” I whisper, “The rush of adrenaline is exhilarating to say the least.” I admire our handiwork.

Astarion grins in my direction, “Yes… your adrenaline is exhilarating, my dear. It’s so palpable I can almost taste it,” he licks his lips playfully and flashes his fangs. I immediately blush, images of him drinking greedily from my throat flood my mind.

“You’re so distracting,” I say flirtatiously. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go on a solo mission with Astarion. He makes it difficult to focus, especially when he looks at me the way he is–as if he is ready to devour me.

He simply laughs in response before returning to the mission at hand. We surveyed our surroundings one last time before following the winding hallways through the fortress looking for a room that looked of some importance. We passed by rows of rooms, some sporadically containing Absolutists, too engrossed in their conversations to realize danger lurked around the corner. Most we spared simply because we were trying to keep a low profile. Others wouldn't be so lucky.

We round another corner, eyeing a large set of oak doors emblazoned with the Absolute’s insignia. I turn to Astarion who looks relieved. We slowly make our way down the long corridor when the clanking of metal armor rings through the hallway, echoing loudly in our ears. In one brief moment, a steel watcher exits a room adjacent to the one we were headed towards, and Astarion snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me off the ground and into a room directly beside us. I gasp momentarily, not expecting to be so roughly handled.

He pushes me up against a wall out of the doorway and presses a hand to my mouth. My heart beats loudly in my chest, threatening to burst through my ribcage. Astarion huffs quietly, slightly annoyed that we were almost detected. We stay perfectly still, listening as the steel watcher clangs about slowly.

Astarions forearm is pressed against my shoulders and, even though our demise looms just down the hall, I can’t help the sinful thoughts that cross my mind–especially when his hand is clasped firmly over my mouth the way it is. I shift uncomfortably, pressing my thighs together subtly. I try to suppress the growing warmth that travels to my core, rather unsuccessfully.

Nothing gets past Astarion, however, who has come to recognize my body language better than I knew my own. He peers down at me and knits his eyebrows together, sending me a quiet look that just says… Really? Of all the times.

I look up at him with rounded eyes and shrug. It’s not like I could explain myself with his hand pressed against my mouth and a metal monstrosity lurking around the corner threatening to alert every Absolute in the building of our presence.

Astarion carefully reaches out with his foot and shuts the door quietly. We stand still for several more minutes, waiting for the steel watcher to stray from its post. It seems to be assigned to this hall specifically, and if we can’t find a way into that room, the whole mission will have been for naught.

He loosens his grip around my mouth and brings a finger to his mouth, gesturing for me to stay quiet. I roll my eyes. He glares at me, a look of lustful determination dances across his face. I know that devious look.

Astarion and I have found a kindred spirit in one another. Our blood always ran hot after battle, and our sexual tension was always palpable during moments of high danger. It was an odd little quirk–one that usually awarded us concerning looks among the other companions. They knew we would disappear for hours on end after a particularly difficult battle, choosing to get lost in one another. At least,that was before he truly opened up to me. He confessed his feelings regarding sex, assuring me that what we had was something more, but that it was just too much for him to process–too much to handle. I understood.

It had been weeks since we were last intimate, not that I particularly minded. I had fallen head over heels for this man and I only wanted him to have time to heal. I respected his space, because it wasn’t his body or his looks that took hold of my heart–it was all of him. His soul. It was his fierce protectiveness that he tried so hard to hide that captured my heart. His undying loyalty for his friends. His passion for something more than what the last two centuries had offered him.

He has slowly started exploring physical touch with me again. Placing small kisses along my shoulders. Running his fingers through my hair. Idly tracing shapes on my skin at night. If he allowed it, I would return the small affections, always making sure that he was happy and present.

Our currently shared predicament ignited something in me tonight. I don't know if it was the jarring realization that I loved Astarion more than words could ever properly describe, or the fact that this little mission of ours just reinforced how badly I could not lose him. Perhaps it was both, but a deep yearning for him settled in the pit of my stomach. But it wasn't just about what I wanted. If the way he was looking at me was any indicator, it seemed like he desperately needed me too. Of course, we'd have to be positively mad to indulge in that kind of behavior right now, but we never classified ourselves as sane, rational people to begin with. The heat of the moment was almost unbearable.

A look passes between us and I cock my head to the side, a silent question on my expression. He flashes me a devious smile, which is all the answer I need. He leans in slowly, his hands tracing the curves of my body as he makes his way to my face. His fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls me in roughly, crushing his lips to mine with such eager desperation that I all but go limp under his touch.

I return his kiss eagerly, allowing him to lead–to explore at his own comfort and pace. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, searching for my own. Our tongues mingle, indulging fervently in one another–searching for reprieve. Our lips move together in time, his taste completely engulfing me. His fangs drag against my lip and it takes all the strength in me not to moan. But that was part of the fun wasn't it?

Astarion presses his body harder into mine, pinning me to the wall with such unfiltered reverence. His arousal is evident as it digs into my stomach and my body screams for him in return. I'm fully aware that we cannot have sex here. I could not hope to stay silent during such a sordid affair, but I wanted so badly to bring him pleasure. I wanted him to feel untainted ecstasy, purely for his enjoyment (and let’s face it, for my own enjoyment as well. Nothing felt better than making him feel good). That's where I make up my mind.

With all the force I can muster I spin him around and press him against the wall, never breaking our sultry kiss. Astarion is momentarily stunned by my forwardness, but quickly relaxes and indulges me.

Our tongues continue their sensual dance, exploring one another's mouth as if it's our last night on Faerun. It very well could be. I move my hands to his trousers, playing with the ties that are keeping him restrained. I pull away from our kiss momentarily to peer up into those vermillion eyes, gauging whether he was okay with this. He pushes the hair out of my face, tucking a wisp of hair behind my pointed ears.

He gives me a look of approval which only spurs me to unlace his trousers. I crouch slowly, never taking my eyes off him. The look of pure adoration that graces his features let me know that he is okay and that he wants this. I drop completely to my knees in an act of pure worship–of reverence.

“Darling,” he whispers softly, “You're insatiable.” I give him a knowing look before springing his arousal free from the confines of his trousers. A look of triumph crosses my features, he was hard for me. I still evoked a sense of desire from him. I truly was lucky.

I peel his trousers away before looking up into his wanting face. He looks so earnestly turned on by our circumstances that it brings a devious smile to my lips. I take his cock in my hand, eliciting a quiet hiss to escape his perfect lips. I swipe my thumb across his swollen head, already leaking from the sheer excitement and looming danger. I look up at him, rounding my eyes and biting my lip–a look that drives him mad. He is delirious with desire.

I take his length between my lips, slowly taking him in until I can take no more. Astarion throws his head back, resting it on the wall behind him. His hands snake down into my hair, his fingers grasping for leverage. He moans quietly–the sound strained and full of need. He begins to guide my head gently, using my mouth to fuck himself slowly and deliberately.

My tongue drags down his length, savoring the way he tastes. I suck him hard and slow, letting him guide my movements. I stroke the base of his cock with my hand which only heightens his desire. I swirl my tongue around his head, teasing him endlessly until he all but forces his cock back down my throat.

I push his cock to the back of my throat as far as it will go, ignoring the way I gag around him. My throat tightens around his length, and his hand shoots to his mouth clearly enjoying it enough that he has to remind himself to stay as quiet as possible.

I continue to suck him slowly and deeply, bobbing my head in deliberate motions, enjoying the way I can pleasure him so intently. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I continue my pace. His hands drag down his body and he pulls his shirt up slightly, giving me a peak at his toned abdomen.

I lock eyes with him, never stopping my pursuit and I can tell that action alone is enough to push him over the edge. His grip in my hair tightens, pulling at my hair painfully in just the way I like which spurs me to continue.

I pick up the pace, his cock hitting the back of my throat repeatedly and causing me to gag more frequently. More tears escape from my lash line and the sight of me has Astarion panting heavily, his knees practically buckling from the intense pleasure.

I pull away for a moment and let my hand continue to service him, a string of saliva hangs between my lips and his throbbing head. I look up at him with rounded eyes, trying to convey a look of pure innocence. I can tell the sight drives him wild. I find him on the precipice, so close to falling over the edge.

He whimpers, a rare sound to escape his lips, but one that lets me know how he is feeling, “Please,” he begs. It is such a rare moment to find him begging for release, and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

“Please, what?” I ask teasingly. It is not very often that I get to coax such desperate words from his lips and I plan to take advantage of our situation. I want him to tell me what he wants.

He huffs, clearly seeing through my ploy. He surrenders to it almost instantly, unable to hurl a quip in my direction with the way my hand falls down his slick length slowly.

He struggles to find the words while he is so completely at my mercy. I cock an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently as I continue to massage his cock languidly in my palm. I teasingly swipe my tongue up the length of his shaft, hoping that it will motivate him to tell me what he wants.

“Please,” he says breathlessly, “I want to come.” He peers down at me, his eyes a pool of desperation and mad with desire.

I nod my head and quickly take him fully in my mouth once more, letting my throat accommodate as much of him as I can possibly muster. He inhales sharply, enjoying the way my warm wet mouth fits so perfectly around him. He grips my hair even tighter and I stifle the moan that wants to escape my throat.

He sets the pace for me once again, my head bobbing fervently as I suck hard and quickly. His cock hitting the back of my throat at a punishing pace as he thrust himself into me. His breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts more erratic. I can tell he is chasing his own release.

“Gods,” he whispers, his voice gravelly and thick with lust, “Please don’t stop.”

I chance a small groan, despite our current situation, and the vibrations are surely what sends him over the edge. His pace slows as his seed spills into the back of my throat. I swallow it greedily, his taste giving me my own sort of pleasure.

I can tell Astarion wants nothing more than to moan out in pleasure, but he keeps quiet, throwing his head back against the wall as his orgasm rocks through his body. His release sends a wave of pleasure through his entire body.

I swallow every drop of his spent, savoring its unique flavor. Once he has stilled completely, I pull him from my mouth with a quiet pop. He looks down at me, trying desperately to bring his breathing under control. I can feel the slickness between my thighs and note the ways my body longs for him.

I swipe my thumb along the corner of my mouth and down my bottom lip before helping him fasten his trousers. I stand completely and meet his vermillion gaze.

“Gods below,” he finally whispers, his voice raspy, “You’re going to be the death of me, my dear.” He brings a hand to my face and swipes his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped earlier.

I drag my hands through his ivory curls and look at him with unfiltered adoration. His eyes flit to my lips once more and he pulls me in close, kissing me so deeply and with such devotion that my knees threaten to buckle underneath me.

After a moment he pulls away, “We better make it through the night, darling,” he purrs, “Because I’m taking you for myself when we get back to camp.” he drags a knuckle down my neck and gently traces my collarbone. He sighs with longing, before releasing me from his embrace. My body shivers at his promise, steeling my determination.

Back to the task at hand. There will be more time to indulge in one another later. Astarion chances a peek through the door. He eyes the steel watcher, blindly marching up and down the long corridor.

“One more rotation and we can make a break for the door while its back is turned. We’ll only have a few seconds to get inside, so we’ll have to be quick and deliberate,” he whispers. I nod in understanding and wait for his order.

The steel watcher clanks down the hall, passing by our door. As soon as we are out of eye sight, we quickly and silently head towards the oak doors. Astarion quickly begins lockpicking while I watch the steel watcher near the end of the hall.

“It’s about to come back,” I say urgently. I hear the lock give way under his deft fingers and we slink in and shut the door just when the watcher rounded on its heels. I rest against the oak doors, trying to calm my nerves and taking in the surrounding room.

The room had vaulted ceilings, only lit by the low burning candles on the wall. The opposite side of the room had floor to ceiling shelves filled with dusty tomes. A large ornate desk sat in the middle scattered with papers–none of which looked particularly important. Against a sidewall sat a large table with maps strewn about, battle plans inscribed across them.

Astarion studies the maps before stuffing them into his pocket. I eye a chest against an adjacent wall and make my way over, studying it for any signs of a trap. Satisfied that I detect none, I crouch down to begin picklocking.

Before I can, however, Astarion yanks me to my feet and I look up at his worried face. “Darling, do be careful. It is obviously a trap.” His face is concerned–scared even. The thought of me getting hurt because I failed to detect the trap creeps across his face. Usually, in these situations he would be more annoyed than anything. But all I see is real fear.

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping aside to allow him to disarm the trap and unlock the chest. He makes quick work of both, his lithe hands working gracefully and efficiently. After a moment, the chest pops open.

We both look inside. It is filled with several folded letters containing useful information related to the Grand Design. Several tomes related to the Crown of Karsus and its Netherstones were also nestled inside. Lastly, a large map marking a location deep beneath the city looked particularly interesting. Perhaps that is where the elder brain was located. We stuff the contents of the chest in our pack and ready ourselves to leave.

“Let’s get the hells out of here,” Astarion says, relieved.

Before we can exit the room, the door swings open. We react instantly, melting into the wall just out of eyesight of the door. An armored woman walks through the door completely unaware of our presence as she is too engrossed in a letter she has in her hand. Before the door can fully shut, Astarion leaps forward from behind her and places a hand over her mouth. She looks up at me, terror and recognition fills her eyes. I’m the last thing she ever sees as he snaps her neck with powerful force.

Her limp body falls to the floor. I snatch the letter from her hand and read it quickly. There is some kind of charm or enchantment concealing the actual message. I stuff it into my pocket, hoping Gale can find some use in it.

We peek through the door, waiting for the watcher to turn its back. Once the coast is clear, we begin our complicated dance–maneuvering in and out of rooms as the watcher passes us by. Once we clear the corridor, we begin our long journey through the maze of corridors, eliminating stray cultists if we come across them and picking up any gold we find along the way.

By the time we make it back to the storage room, our pockets are heavy with gold and various loot. We descend down the hatch and back into the cellar, giggling quietly at our success. A mixture of relief and satisfaction washing over us as our tension melts away.

We burst through the cellar door and into the alleyway, the cool dark night welcoming us. I turn to find Astarion calculating, a diabolical grin graces his features. I cock my head to the side, wondering what he is planning.

“Stand back, darling,” he says, flashing his fangs. In one fluid motion he lights the end of an arrow and nocks it. He pulls the arrow back until the string is taut. His muscles strain against the force and he has never looked quite as beautiful than in this moment–right before causing unimaginable chaos. He aims squarely at the still open door of the cellar and releases the arrow. Before it lodges in the side of a barrel of wine he turns and bolts towards me. He leaps gracefully in my direction and we both topple to the ground. He shields my body with his, pinning me firmly to the cold hard ground.

As soon as we hit the ground a large explosion rings through the air as a chain reaction ignites the lowest level of the fortress. The heat from the explosion pricks my skin as a large orange glow rises into the dark night. The building gives way, its structural integrity buckling under the sheer force of the explosion.

I burst out laughing, tears coming to the surface as my laughter turns into uncontrollable guffawing. Astarion joins me in laughter, and the sound is beautiful. We allow ourselves to fall apart, finding entertainment in our own chaotic decisions. The glow from the explosion paints his features in a warm aura, and at this moment I have decided I cannot live without my vampire.

I run my fingers through his snowy curls, looking at him with pure devotion hanging heavy in my heart. “I love you, Astarion,” I whisper lovingly.

He stares at me and his features soften, “I-I love you too, Tav.” He leans down and kisses me in the alley way, all our fears melting away and forgotten as the building crashes down behind us. We are just two love-sick people who thrive on chaos. I cannot think of a place I would rather be. He continues to surprise me, and I surmise our future together is going to be beautifully chaotic.

“Let’s get you back to camp, darling,” He whispers as he pulls away from our kiss, “We have some unfinished business to attend to.”

#Astarion #astarion x female tav #tav x astarion #bg3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #f!reader x astarion #f!tav x astarion

[slytherinsallows]

Sleepover in the ROR: Part 2 (Mc x Sebastian x Ominis x Garreth Smut 🌶️🌶️🌶️)

Tags: oral, slight breeding kink, foursome

A/N: Ty for the love on the first part, here’s part 2 of their sleepover! Warning: it gets pretty wild 🫢 I’ve got some other ideas for fics/ oneshots but don’t hesitate to suggest me some I’d love to bring them to life! Anyway, enjoy ;)

“I think we should play a little game of naughty truth or dare…” Sebastian teased as he ran a finger down Mcs arm

“I thought you all were just going to fuck me” she pouted, clearly unhappy with the delay in sex. “We can’t make it that easy for you, now can we?” Sebastian laughed, a hint of evil showing up, knowing this would all be pure torture for her.

Garreth rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Now this is more like it…don’t worry love, I have plenty of questions for you” he winked, subtly stroking his growing bulge. “I suppose I should start, truth or dare my dear?” Ominis whispered, eager to start the game, his tongue tracing across her ear lobe and neck as he spoke.

“Do I get to get you guys to do dares?” She asked excitedly, thinking of all the scenarios she could have the power to get these men into. “Hmmm… after we’ve had our fun with you, I’ll think about it. You are OUR toy after all.” Sebastian smirked.

“Okay fine, dare” she said boldly, hoping one of them would just give in and fill her up already. Unfortunately they weren’t gonna make it as simple as that for her…

“I dare you to take off that pretty little top of yours” Ominis whispered, sucking along her neck. “Easy!” She exclaimed, swiftly removing it, exposing her erect nipples to them.

Garreth let out a small gasp, suddenly getting an overwhelming urge to suck them, wanting to run his now veiny hands all over her pretty pink buds. Ominis listened out for when she took it off and grasped at them softly, mesmerised by her silky smooth skin.

“Well that’s a good start” Sebastian remarked, licking his lips subtly. “Okay now it’s my turn…” he decided.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you… to make ominis cum”

“Okay easy-“

“Dry humping him” Sebastian finished

Ominis’ face was a crimson red now, a stark difference from his usually pale complexion. Even though Sebastian could be very possessive over mc, watching her so needy for cock, not just his cock at that, turned him on massively. Plus he’d get an amazing view of her ass bouncing as she desperately humped him.

“O-okay.” Mc swallowed, this was all just testing her patience massively. Ominis lay back as she straddled him, fitting perfectly on his lap, her pussy right over his clothed member. Ominis moaned softly as she started grinding against him, working his cock under two layers of fabric. It was a glimpse of pleasure each time it ran across her clit and it was just making her more feral and desperate to take it. She quickened her pace, Sebastian and garreths eyes both locked on her juicy ass as it moved back and forth across Ominis’ lap.

“Mc-“ Ominis breathed, already seeming close from her work. “I can feel how wet you are even through all this” he groaned, throwing his head back and enjoying her doing all the work on him. His little whimpers and moans filled the room and were everything, not just turning Mc on but Garreth and Seb as well . Mc was panting heavily from her frustration and it was more than enough to throw Ominis over the edge, completing her dare. She watched as a dark patch on his crotch spread, the cum leaking out a little. Ominis smiled shyly, kissing her forehead for her work. Mc pouted softly, “what a waste omi… that could’ve been inside me” she complained, trailing her finger in his wet patch.

“Soon love” Sebastian chuckled, tapping the ground to get her off the boys lap.

“I suppose it’s my turn now. Fuck that was hot to watch.” garreth groaned, sweeping his long messy red hair out of his face. “Truth or dare love?”

“Mm truth” mc said, needing a minute to catch her breath after that intensity.

“Mm okay, what’s your biggest fantasy?”

All the boys listened for her answer, eager to listen and maybe even fulfil whatever came out of her mouth.

“Well… I’ve always dreamt of being tied up I guess…”

“Garreth give me your tie” Sebastian snapped his fingers at the redhead before pulling at his collar hastily.

“Wait! You need to let me pick a dare for you first!” She complained.

“Okay brat, so what do you want to see us do princess?”

Sebastian’s and garreths cocks were about ready to explode at this point, whilst Ominis was already getting hard again after his release.

“Hm… I wanna see you suck…Garreth off” Mc smiled, folding her arms across her exposed breasts.

Sebastian choked on his saliva, unsure how to react. Part of him was in shock, he had never really thought about being on a boy before until tonight but his curiosity had tested him, he’ll admit. And the other half of him just wanted him to do it, shamelessly try it, and surprise Garreth. “Depends if Garreth could handle me” he tried at a tease, eyeing the redhead up and down.

“I’m too fucking horny sallow, go for it” Garreth moaned, ripping off his trousers, desperate to get something. He’d normally be a little shy at this kind of scenario, but something peaked his interest at the idea of seeing Sebastian on his knees for him; the boy who’d constantly ridicule and bicker with him, teasing him at any opportunity would suddenly be submitted to him. Who knows? Maybe he’d enjoy this…

Sebastian smirked, getting to his knees and massaging Garreth through his pre cum stained boxers. Although HE was the one on his knees, it still felt and looked like he was in control here as he slowly pulled them down, making direct eye contact with the gryffindor before circling his tongue over the tip of his cock. Garreths leg jolted up, a natural reaction to this foreign sensation. “Ah” he groaned, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth slightly as mc watched Sebastian begin to work his length.

“Look at me garreth” Sebastian’s voice went dark, as he demanded the boy to look at him. Garreth sat up, doing as he’s told as he watched Sebastian take his member in and out of his mouth. Garreth moaned as he did, resisting the urge to grab Sebastian’s messy hair and face fuck him.

Sebastian took it further, getting turned on knowing mc was enjoying this, taking garreths cock right to the back of his mouth. He gagged a little at garreths length, he was a similar size to him but a little bit thicker. “I’m literally gonna cum already” garreth wriggled, trying to hold out longer, but he was just too pent up. He was expecting Sebastian to pull away but to his surprise, Sebastian swallowed his seed, looking him in the eyes as he did, seductively lapping up and savouring every drop.

“Bloody hell” he groaned, still coming down. Mcs jaw was basically on the floor at this point, ridiculously wet at the view of t he two.

“Well that was different” Sebastian coughed. “Bet you didn’t expect that Weasley” he winked.

“I think you two should do that instead of arguing over something next time. It’s much faster and a lot hotter” mc piped up, giggling at the two.

“Oh yeah? And I think you should get on that bed, slut… before I have you all for myself” Seb threatened, pushing her harshly on to the centre of the bed.

Ominis handed him his tie whilst garreth calmed down, and Sebastian took her hands and tied them up to the headboard in a pretty bow. “Look at you. You just can’t wait for us can you?” Sebastian replied to her moans and struggles.

She shook her head frantically. She looked down at her soaking wet shorts and back at Sebastian, as if she even needed to imply what she craved.

“Since I haven’t cum yet, I think it’s only fair I get the first go” Sebastian stated, smirking. Garreth joined them on the bed having finally came down from his high, him and ominis ready waiting their turn inside of her.

“Fuck your little cunt is so pretty and wet for me… Im going to ruin it completely” Sebastian stated after tugging her shorts off. He quickly tore his clothes off before giving his cock a few pumps and lining himself at her entrance.

“Sebastian…” she cried.

“I haven’t even put the tip in yet love, there’s a whole lot worse coming” he told her as he teased her slit.

“Listen to her Sebastian… she needs you” ominis said, feeling sorry for mc at this point, knowing how pent up she must be by now.

Without warning Sebastian slid his length inside of her walls, pinning mcs legs down as she wriggled in pleasure. “Is this what you wanted you needy little slut?” Sebastian asked as he reached her ends, holding his cock there for a minute so she could adjust to his length.

“Yes… exactly… fuck” she cried, tossing and turning at how he felt, all she had imagined coming to fruition. Sebastian thrusted, letting every inch of him fill her every crevice as garreth watched her struggle against the constraints. The sounds alone of Mcs wetness as Sebastian fucking her was getting ominis riled up again, desperate to make love to her and make her feel amazing.

Sebastian quickened his pace, his thrusts starting to get sloppy and desperate as he held MCs waist down, getting as deep in her as physically possible. “Such a good slut… you gonna take garreth and ominis like a good girl after too hm? Once I’ve spilled in you?” He asked her, feeling himself getting close.

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes from the pure pleasure, feeling so exposed and vulnerable. She loved it.

Sebastian came, pushing his cock deeper inside of her as he did, making sure she caught all of his seed, still rocking his hips while cumming, pushing it into her womb.

He then pulled out, much to mcs disgust, as she was just getting close to her high. Sebastian helped Ominis line himself up at her entrance next, eager to get another cock pumping inside of her. “Ominis… please” she cried, begging him to push himself in.

“Of course my dear…mhm” he groaned as he pushed himself into her, feeling all Sebastian’s warm seed making way for him. “Fuck… We’re gonna make such a mess of you my sweetheart” ominis groaned as he thrusted, his hands roaming up and down her body, desperate to envision every crevice of her body inside his head. Just as she was getting close again he pulled out, smiling.

“What the fuck Omi” she moaned, being edged yet again.

“Stop edging me” she begged, looking at the three boys she had indefinitely wrapped around her finger now. “Now where’s the fun in that?” Sebastian laughed as Garreth lined himself up next.

She freed her hands from Ominis’ tie, and tugged Garreths shirt, the only clothing still remaining on in the room. “Please garreth…” she pleaded with him, desperate to cum now.

“Okay, okay my love! Let me get in you first” he laughed, pushing the head against her slit. He began thrusting, grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders, making mc melt beneath him.

“Shit garreth…” she screamed out, feeling his cock in her stomach he was so deep. “Do you like that love?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her through his fiery locks.

She nodded frantically, feeling herself getting very close, “I’m close… please” she cried, grasping at Sebastian and Ominis as she did.

“Cum my good girl… cum on his cock” Sebastian whispered in her ear, pushing her over the edge. Her pussy locked garreth Inside of her, throbbing around him as she pulled at his hair. That was his weakness, making him spill in her too. They lay like that for a minute or so, sweaty and panting whilst ominis massaged her shoulders, helping her come down.

Garreth slipped himself out when she finally loosened, his and Sebastian’s cum dribbling out of her when he did. All the boys collapsed on her chest, exhausted and satisfied having had their turn. She hugged them all close to her, their faces being mushed into her breasts, not to any compliant. “Thank you… that was one of the best sleepovers ever” she giggled.

“One of them?” Sebastian chuckled, tickling her softly. She laughed and wriggled before answering, “Okay. The best” she admitted, kissing them all on the lips, letting all this limbs tangle together, Sebastian falling asleep after hearing that, his hand full of her tits. Ominis snuggled up on chest, just below, while garreth spooned her, his now drained cock resting against her ass. She drifted off to sleep, happy and fully content in their embrace…

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #garreth weasley smut #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt smut #ominis x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #ominis x mc x sebastian #sebastian x mc #garreth x mc #ominis x mc #sebastian x reader

[absolutebl]

Rules: List 10 of your comfort shows

tagged by @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle (thanks doll)

I rarely pass along tags but you should do this one and tag me if you do so I can see, comfort watches are my absolute FAVORITE.

This is a BL blog and I've watched most of them, so I will be picking BL. But I will only be picking BL I am rewatching for comfort right NOW.

Some of these may surprise. Ready?

My Top 10 Comfort BL's right NOW

1 kiss x kiss x kiss - perfect scandal (short)

My favorite of this series because it's basically office romance sexy bits we all wanted from Old Fashion Cupcake.

2 Jun & Jun

his show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smile every moment I'm watching. This is very much MY style of BL.

3 Love is Science (BL cut)

Mark and Ouwen gotta be one of my all time favorite side dishes. LIS? is a noona romance with added mature side couple as well as these two, mostly interwoven. It’s a big buy in just for Mark & Ouwen but WORTH IT, and some kind soul uploaded a BL cut to YT. Everything is a touch quirky but the BL boys are beautiful, earnest, and high heat. It's one of Taiwan's favorite dynamics: the bisexual himbo meets the confident gay, but they are just LOVELY, plus tiny queer family at the end.

4 2 Moons 3

What can I say, it's utter trash but there is something about the main couple I love. A Thai pulp that felt like it came out 5 yrs ago with many of the flaws inherent to that time and studio system, including manufactured angst and convoluted plot, but an ultimately sweet main couple that (as a pairing) feels a bit more modern and is satisfying to watch. This will probably go down in history as one of the few BLs where I genuinely didn’t care about any of the side couples.

5 Love Class 2

But only "my couple." ( the mature student and the TA). I still hold that they probably should’ve had their own series.

6 Big Dragon

I didn't love this when it first aired but I am coming around to it more on the rewatch. (I may even up its score from 7 to 8 if the eventual movie sticks the landing). This is a pairing that proved itself to be a lot more sophisticated than I expected with nods at kink in a more respectful way than Mame could ever dream, plus excellent chemistry.

7 Why R U? Korea

The Korean remake of Why RU? is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. There is something comforting in watching the Cliff's notes version of a show I enjoyed before just in a different BL style. I don't know why I like this one so much, but I really do.

8 Takara & Amagi

I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show first time around. Now I still love it but I'm more calm. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning.

9 About Youth

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth.

Clearly I'm having a bit of a high school phase because I've been thinking of doing this one next:

10 My School President

Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but I still ADORED this. And there is a lot to be said for the classics being re-executed perfectly. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny?

#comfort bl #what am i watchign right now for comfort #comfort watches #best bl for me #maybe for you? #japanese bl #perfect scandal #korean bl #jun and jun #Love is Science #taiwanese bl #2 moons 3 #2 moons amnassador #thai bl #Love Class 2 #big dragon #why r U? korea #Takara and Amagi #About Youth #My School President #GMMTV

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 14

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, arguing, dead parents, mentions of major character death, fluff, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: We’ve finally made it to Philly!!!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You stretch as you sit up in your seat as the plane starts to descend for landing. You’ve spent the last few hours with your head tucked on Bradley’s shoulder. You lean the other way now, staring out the window at the city of Philadelphia. It’s not your first time in Pennsylvania but you’ve never been to Philly. You turn to see Bradley watching you, a fond look in his eyes that makes your cheeks heat. You reach for his hand, threading his fingers with yours. “You ready?” You whisper and you watch emotions swirl in his eyes as he looks past you out the window. For over a decade, this was his home, and he had been unfairly ripped from it just a few months ago. You know the wound is still fresh and aching and while you’re excited to see the city he loves so much, you can’t help the way your heart aches for him. You wish you could just go back home and wrap him in your arms, chasing away his demons with the strength of your feelings for him.

Home. It’s weird how natural it feels, to call Bradley’s apartment your home. Since the other day, you’ve been spending more and more time there. Feet swinging as you perch on the counter while Bradley cooks for the two of you. Curled under soft blankets on the couch, wrapped in his arms. You hadn’t spent the night again, though. Not for any particular reason, at least that’s what you tell yourself. It definitely has nothing to do with the sheer strength of your feelings for Bradley. They’re growing every day, at a rate that threatens to overwhelm you. You know you made a choice that day, asking Bradley to kiss you in the kitchen, where it had become clear that he was clearly as desperate for you as you were for him. That knowledge is the only thing keeping you from spontaneously combusting at the size of your feelings. You love him. You know you should tell him, let him in all the way, but you’re terrified because you’re not sure you’ve ever loved anyone this way. Sure, you’ve said the words before, to other men a lifetime ago, but you were a different person then. One that didn’t yet know loss and perhaps didn’t even know love. Not the romantic kind, at least. You’d always known love. Your mom made sure of that, and your dad too. And then Mickey, showing you love in little ways until you broke apart and let him show it to you in bigger ways. And now Bradley, showing you love in the quiet.

You squeeze his hand gently when he doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifts to you and you smile softly at him. “Where’d you go, Bear?” He shakes his head, bringing your clasped hands to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles.

“Nowhere, Honey. I’m right here.” You know he’s lying but he’ll come to you when he’s ready. The two of you are similar in that way.

***

You glance down at your keycard, trying not to frown. Cyclone had eased up on his insistence on you babysitting Bradley since he stopped causing trouble during games and as a result, you’ve no longer been assigned to share a room with him. Technically, you’re sharing with Dragon but she’s sleeping in Mickey and Bob’s room and Mickey’s now your roommate. “Ready, roomie?” Mickey chirps excitedly as he slings an arm around your shoulder. You force a smile onto your lips, trying to disguise your disappointment. Mickey’s not a bad roommate by any means, you lived with him for two and a half years after all. There are far worse people you could be stuck rooming with than your best friend but you can’t help but consider the alternative. Mickey skips off to chat with Bob about something and you drop the smile as a chuckle sounds in your ear.

“Someone looks disappointed.” You turn to scowl at Javy who’s grinning mischievously at you. You’re about to tell him you’re not in the mood for his teasing when he dangles a keycard in front of your nose, a smirk twisting his lips as your eyes widen in surprise. “I’ll handle Mickey, go get your man.” You can’t help how your face lights up instantly and you can’t even find it in you to be mad as Javy laughs at your transparency. He hands you his keycard and takes yours with a wink. “Don’t forget to use protection.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the giggle that spills from your lips as you turn to track down Bradley in the crowded lobby. “I think he already headed upstairs, sweetheart,” Javy informs you and you turn back to him, full-on grinning now.

“Thank you, Javy.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes and he waves you off.

“Just go, before Garcia realizes you’re gone.” You nod and check around to make sure no one’s paying attention to the two of you before you make your way to the elevator. You can’t help the way you fidget as the elevator climbs the floors and you can’t help but think of a different elevator you’d stood in with Bradley, the night everything changed between the two of you. You can’t help the way your thighs clench at the memory of Bradley growling in your ear, his brazen hands squeezing you close. The elevator reaches your floor and you collect your things, lugging your suitcase and garment bag after you as you search for the room listed on the cardholder. You hesitate, considering knocking, but Javy gave you the key after all and so you simply pass it over the reader, turning the handle when the green light flashes and the door lock clicks open. You push open the door, awkwardly as you struggle between your luggage and the heavy door, one hand still gripping the keycard. You manage to shuffle in, loudly clattering down the sort hallway that opens into the bedroom. Bradley’s sitting on the bed by the window, socked feet up on the covers when he turns, brow furrowed. “Machado, could you please try to be at least a little quieter-” the words dying on his lips as he takes in your slightly disheveled appearance, laden with your luggage. “Honey?” The question is instantly in a softer tone, one you’ve realized is reserved for you and Dare.

“Hi,” you manage before starting to move again, and then your suitcase’s wheel spins roguely and slams into your ankle and you let out a squawk of pain as your balance is thrown off and you throw your full hands in front of you in an attemp0t to avoid faceplanting onto the carpeted floor. You brace for the impact, squeezing your eyes shut but it never comes. You carefully ease your eyes open to look up at Bradley who’s got his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

“Honey,” his voice is concerned and exasperated as he chides you gently. You give him a rueful smile as he helps you stand, taking items out of your full hands. “What are you doing here?” He asks, raising an amused eyebrow and you feel your cheeks heat as you show him the keycard.

“Javy told me to, and I quote, ‘go get your man.’” Bradley's eyes brighten and he chuckles as he bumps your nose with his.

“You man, hmm? I wonder who that is? He’s a lucky man.” You giggle and rub your nose against his.

“Is he now?” You whisper and he gazes down at you with a fondness that makes your knees weak.

“He is,” Bradley affirms before stepping away and you try not to whimper at the loss. He hangs your garment bag in the closet, and you place your suitcase in there as well as he places your purse on the desk. You lean against the empty bed that would have been Javy’s, suddenly shy as Bradley comes over to you, gently pulling you with him as he backs up towards his bed. He raises an eyebrow in question when the backs of his legs bump the bed and before you can answer, your phones chime, reminding the two of you that you’re expected back downstairs ASAP after freshening up and changing. The boys have a full evening of practice at the Flyer’s rink.

“We should get ready to go,” you remind Bradley and he lets out a groan, leaning his forehead against yours. You nuzzle his nose with yours. “You ready for this?” You whisper. He lets out a heavy sigh and you feel his body press harder into yours as he leans against you. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, gently, threading your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. You feel him relax into your embrace. “I’m here for you, remember that. If you need me, I’ll be right there. And if you need me to kick anyone’s ass, I can do that too.” He chuckles at that and you smile at the sound. “I’m also pretty good at blackmail if that’s the route you want to take,” you continue and Bradley pulls you close, swinging you off the ground as you squeal, tightening your grip around his neck. “Bradley!” You yelp as he chuckles, easing your head back to look at him. There’s still uncertainty swimming in his eyes but you can tell that the smile on his face is genuine.

“And if I want to burn it all down to the ground?” He whispers, his voice a low rumble.

“Then I’ll bring the matches,” you assure him and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that he returns. A banging at the door makes you both jump.

“Hurry up, lovebirds, we’re going to be late!” Javy’s voice calls from the hallway and you scowl at the door as Bradley growls. He reluctantly places you back down and excuses himself to the bathroom to change into gym clothes for practice while you touch up your makeup in the full-length mirror.

When he comes back, you can feel his eyes on you, watching as he ties his shoes. You turn to him, fidgeting with your hands slightly. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful,” he says before you can even finish the sentence. “You always do.” He reassures you and you feel your cheeks warm at the compliments.

“Anything I should know about the Flyer’s PR rep?” You ask as you collect the things you’ll need for the rest of the day. He shakes his head.

“Maria’s nice, you shouldn’t have any problems with her.” You’ve spoken with her before, of course, when negotiating Bradley’s trade but that was before you knew Bradley and how his team had stabbed him in the back. You’re nervous about the next few days, to say the least. Bradley’s clearly on edge and you can tell that Mav and Dare are too which isn’t helping things at all. This city holds painful memories for all three of them and you can only hope that they can escape without adding more wounds to their tally. “Shall we go?” Bradley asks then and you nod, slipping your hand into his as the two of you make your way out.

***

“BRADSHAW!” An elated voice calls out as the Dogfighters enter the rink. They’d gotten situated in the visiting locker room and suited up for practice. The Flyer’s PR rep had been called out of the office on a last-minute errand so you’re observing practice until she returns. One of the Flyer’s players is waving excitedly from the ice. You watch the man skate over, leaning over the boards so far he almost topples over and throwing his arms around Bradley. Shaggy dirty blonde hair pokes out from under his helmet and frames an angular face that’s stretched into a huge grin. “Welcome home, brother!” He’s missing a tooth and it makes him look even more boyish, causing you to smile.

To your surprise, Bradley returns the enthusiastic embrace, hugging the man close before pulling back to examine him. “Lucas, good to see you.” He’s smiling in a way that you’ve only ever seen him do around you and even then it’s been rare. You feel your smile tug wider as Lucas looks him over.

“You look like you’ve aged ten years, man, sure you didn’t retire to Florida instead of San Diego?” Bradley rolls his eyes and shoves Lucas’s shoulder in a gesture that you can tell is riddled with affection. Javy howls a laugh at that and pushes himself in between the two to introduce himself to Lucas. Dare decides to get along with practice then, and Lucas skates off back to his team.

***

After spending a long afternoon with Maria, setting things up for the game tomorrow, you’re looking for Bradley. You know better than to barge into the locker room, so you’re waiting outside when Javy comes out. He grins at you before nodding back up the tunnel towards the rink. “Loverboy is still out there. Quite the little social butterfly, who would have thought?” He smirks and you roll your eyes, thanking him and hurrying up the tunnel.

Bradley’s sitting on the bench, a couple of Flyer’s players either leaving up against the boards or sitting beside him in various states of sweaty disarray. They’ve discarded their helmets and gloves and their hair is plastered to their foreheads with sweat from the hours of practice. You smile at the scene as Bradley chats with the guys until Lucas notices you standing there and smiles, nodding in your direction. “Hey Bradshaw, I think there’s someone looking for you.” Bradley turns at that and smiles as he takes you in and you smile back shyly, he waves you over and you push through the tiny door that leads to the bench.

“Hey Honey, how was your day?” He asks and you balk at the casual term of endearment he’s tossing out in front of his old teammates. You’re instantly shy and he reaches out a hand to you that you take, trying to ignore the fact that every one of the other guys’ eyes is on you as Bradley scoots over to make room for you to sit next to him on the bench. He kicks at the guy next to him. “Scoot, Torp,” and the dark-haired man rolls his eyes before scooting over so there’s room for you to sit down.

“Who’s this beaut?” Lucas asks and you can hear the humor in his voice as your cheeks heat.

“Guys this is my girlfriend, Zam.” He introduces you and you give a shy wave. “She’s our PR rep.”

Lucas whistles at that, “Damn Bradshaw, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you.” He grins at you then, holding out a hand to you. “Lucas Bailey, nice to meet you Zam, that’s an interesting name.”

“Oh, it’s a nickname, short for Zamboni.” You explain, embarrassed and you feel the man to your left shift in surprise.

“Zamboni? Did you go to the University of Wisconsin?” You turn to face the man, surprised. He’s got short black hair and piercing gray eyes dancing with curiosity. You nod, confused as his eyes widen.

“No way! One of my buddies from back when I played in Toronto used to talk about you all the time. He said you saved one of his friends’ careers, he was super grateful for what you did. Neil Jackson, you know him?”

“You know, Jacks?” You ask, surprised as he nods enthusiastically.

“Man would sing your praises from dawn to dusk.”

“Well, how about that, small world,” Lucas remarks with a grin. “What’d you do for him?” He asks and you sigh. You remember Neil Jackson plenty.

“Jacks was one of my best friend’s teammates. I used to hang out with the hockey team a lot because of him and so I got to know the whole team pretty well. My friend, Mickey, who plays for the Dogfighters now actually, got into it with a rival team’s player and the guy didn’t take it well. He tried to frame Mickey for drug possession and use.” Bradley stiffens next to you. “I wasn’t in the best place mentally at the time…” You hesitate, shaking your head before you can get lost in your own thoughts, “but I couldn’t watch him lose everything that he had worked for so I got involved, found a way to prove it was the other player. It was a whole mess but Mickey got off clean and the other guy got off with a slap on the wrist.” You clench a fist tightly in your lap. “It’s actually what got me interested in PR, and it’s the reason I have this job.” You shrug, trying to downplay it and alleviate the now-tense atmosphere. “How’s Jacks doing?” You smile at the dark-haired man who’s studying you carefully.

He nods slowly, “He’s good. He’ll be over the moon to hear you’re doing well.” He smiles then, holding out a hand to you, “Alex Torp.” You smile back and shake his hand.

“So I know we’re all trying to be nice and all, but what on earth are you doing dating this old man, Zam?” The guy on the other side of Bradley says with a grin at the two of you and Bradley jostles his shoulder with a look of faux irritation mixed with fondness. He’s the youngest of the group and his white-blonde hair is sticking up in every direction from his helmet. His features are boyish and they match the grin spread across his face that lets you know he’s just teasing.

You shrug, a soft smile gracing your features as you bump Bradley’s shoulder gently. “Someone’s got to look out for him, and he’s not too bad at looking after me too.” You reach for Bradley’s hand then, feeling braver and lacing your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and smiles back at you. The blonde man gags at that and you laugh.

“Whenever you get tired of the vintage model, you can always give me a call,” he says without an ounce of seriousness in his voice. “I’m Wyatt, Wyatt Eaton.”

“Not a chance in hell, Wyatt.” Bradley cuts in, frowning at him and Wyatt just shrugs.

“Fine, but I’m just as excited to get a mom,” he says and Lucas howls at that as Alex snorts. You blink surprised as Bradley groans.

“Wy, cut it out, I’m serious.” Wyatt just grins.

“Mom, you’re definitely joining us for dinner, right?” Your cheeks heat in embarrassment as Alex joins Lucas laughing as Bradley lunges at Wyatt and he scrambles up to his feet, backing up from the much-larger defenseman. He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, ease up Dad, save it for the ice tomorrow.” He grins over Bradley's shoulder at you.

“Bradley,” you say firmly, suddenly concerned that Bradley might actually smack the younger man. He doesn’t however, swinging an arm around his neck in a loose headlock, ruffling his hair roughly.

“You better show your mom some respect.” He admonishes him and Wyatt grins as Bradley grins back as your jaw drops. He releases Wyatt who plops down next to you where Bradley had been sitting.

“He’s not actually my dad,” he unnecessarily reassures you. When I joined the team, I lived with him because I was straight out of college and had no idea what the fuck I was doing. He showed me the ropes and raised me in a way, so I call him Dad.” Your heart warms at that and you see a piece of the Bradley that you know now.

“Well,” you straighten up, squaring your shoulders before fixing him with your most intimidating glare. “You heard your dad, you better show me some respect.” You stick your chin out a little for dramatic effect and Wyatt gapes at you before grinning.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you fight to keep the firm look on your face.

“Okay, all you sweaty boys need to get cleaned up or else dinner is off the table” and the boys crowd past you heading for the locker rooms, Bradley hanging back to place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“You handled them pretty well,” he praises and you shrug.

“Handling idiot hockey boys is my job,” you remind him and he chuckles.

“And you’re damn good at it too.” You smile at the compliment before he excuses himself to go get cleaned up.

***

After getting cleaned up, the Dogfighters headed back to the hotel. You showered and changed into more casual clothes that you’d remembered to bring this time. Now you’re walking hand and hand with Bradley through Franklin Square, wrapped in the coat he bought you back in D.C. It’s chilly in the early December air as the sun sinks below the horizon and you stay close to him. He’s been showing you all around the city where he spent the last twelve tears and you can tell how much he loves it. It shows in the way he talks about the restaurants that he tells you about, describing the good food, and the way Wyatt got them all permanently banned from one of them. He shows you the apartments he lived in when he first moved to the city and even takes you out to the suburbs to show you the house he spent most of his time in. After his third year in Philly, he’d felt the urge to put down roots so he’d bought the house and that’s where Wyatt had eventually moved into the guest bedroom and made the place a home that at least one or two other teammates, usually Lucas and Alex, would be hanging around.

“It’s always made me feel closer to him,” Bradley explains as the two of you pause in front of the fountain that’s actually turned on today, not quite cold enough to worry about the water freezing in midair. “My dad, I mean. This was the last place he lived, the last team he played for.” You nod, squeezing his hand gently. “Have you ever been to Yale? To see the places she used to go?” He asks. Once the question would have sent you spinning off your axis but now you just shake your head.

“She never took me, I think maybe she was afraid of running into Cyclone. Or maybe she just wanted that part of her life to remain just the way she always told me about them, like a fairytale. Too good to be true.” He nods, quietly. “Are you okay?” You ask after a long beat. “Is this too much for you?” He shakes his head.

“I thought it would be, you know? That I’d miss it more, but I don’t think I do, not anymore.”

“Why not?” You ask, tentatively.

“You,” he says and his raw honesty takes your breath away. “This isn’t home anymore, because it doesn’t have you, San Diego does.” You feel tears well up behind your eyes and you squeeze his hand tightly, three words on your tongue that you’re desperate to let break free.

“Bradley,” your voice breaks on his name and he pulls you close.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your hair and you can hear the emotion laced in the words. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Thank you for being my home,” you whisper back and when his arms tighten, pulling you even closer, you want nothing more than to skip dinner and take him back to the hotel, to never have to leave the safety and security that his arms bring you and you can tell he’s feeling similarly.

“We could skip dinner,” he suggests and you roll your eyes, the suggestion sounding ridiculous now that he’s the one saying it.

“And miss out on hearing all the embarrassing stories I’ve been looking forward to all evening? Not a chance.” You giggle as he scowls when you pull away enough to study his face. His expression softens as he takes in the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and he leans forward to kiss away your tears until you’re smiling against him.

“Honey?” he asks when he’s finished and simply leaning against your forehead, relishing the closeness and you hum your answer. “Can I kiss you?” Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to see the waves of emotions in his brown ones and you nod, unable to deny him such a simple request when you want this as badly as he does.

“Please,” the words have barely passed your lips when he leans forward and connects his lips to yours, the kiss sweet yet deep and full of all the unspoken words between the two of you.” You’re not sure how long the two of you stay that way, simply enjoying each other’s company until a text from Lucas asking what time you’re all meeting and Bradley pulls away from you begrudgingly leading you out of the park off towards the pizza place the other boys had selected for dinner.

***

You let out another laugh, tears tracking down your cheeks as Bradley rolls his eyes for the thousandth time as Wyatt regales you with yet another story from his time as Bradley’s roommate. You’re warm and full of pizza, leaning comfortably against Bradley in the round booth with Lucas on your other side. You’re glad you’d insisted on not ditching your dinner plans because you’d loved every second of this. You’re seeing a side of Bradley that you’d never seen before and it’s so special. Here he wasn’t a lone wolf who kept to himself but rather poked fun at his friends of over a decade, teasing and comfortable in their presence. It makes your heart ache at what he’s lost but gives you hope for what could be once he gets more comfortable with the Dogfighters. You’re also immensely thankful that he’s willing to share this part of his life with you. He trusts you, and you trust him, even more so after your conversation in the park. You can see a future with him, you realize, and slowly, but surely, it brings you more comfort than fear.

A/N: Bradley Bradshaw has… FRIENDS?????

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #san diego daggers hockey au #top gun Maverick #TGM #top gun #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Checo Perez with wife reader? He had some insecurity about his abilities to race against the grid and she just hugged and comforted him. Add something else to it if you want to. Tag me later Thanks!! :))

The pressure is insane… - Sergio Perez x Wife! Reader

Plot: Checo replacing Alex was probably the best thing to happen to him in his Formula One career. However, so much pressure comes from being in that second Red Bull seat, not just the team but the fans too, and Checo doesn’t like the pressure on him.

Credit to checorita for the GIF

When Checo came into the seat, and performance wasn’t great, people in the team told him it would be fine and to keep his head up because everyone knew he was getting used to how different the Red Bull Car is thanks to Max’s driving style.

But at it came to his second season, and it didn’t seem like things were improving much, Christian kept talking to him, explaining what was expected of him as if he hadn’t already informed him over 100 times.

He was just struggling with a car that was clearly built for their main driver, which is why Pierre crumbled under pressure and it’s why they couldn’t put up with Alex when he didn’t learn the car quick enough for them.

The gave Checo the benefit of the doubt throughout 2022, but when Red Bulls most dominant season came around it was without a doubt that your husband had to step up.

And in your eyes he had, getting two race wins under his belt, but he wasn’t consistent enough for Christian and it seemed that he wanted Checo to be actually challenging Max more.

It got worse when the Ferrari and McLaren started to beat him despite being in the worse car, and it was deemed a ‘driver issue’

Sergio felt awful, for a man who had been racing for as long as he had, he never felt doubtful of his abilities to put on a show and drive to the best of his ability.

But now, in the Red Bull seat, he actually understood the words ‘under pressure’ because he was under it constantly.

“Baby what’s wrong with you, you’ve been jittery all week” you ask your husband who was currently watching over some of his old races with a notepad.

“Hmmm?” He asks not even throwing a glance in your direction.

You knew he wasn’t listening.

“Well I just think that when aliens invade Earth that we should have a bunker ready and prepared so that you and I can help create a new civilisation after the government kill them all …” you say trying to grab a reaction from him.

“Hmmm yeah that’s really nice” he starts but then he looks up and his head cocks to the side as if his brain just processed the words you said. “Wait what?” He asks.

You chuckle and little bit happy to have his attention.

“I just wanted to see if you were listening, I asked what’s been up with you lately” you say softly, taking a seat next to him, reaching over to grab the remote and pause the race he was observing so his full attention was on you.

“Nothing wrong, I’m fine” he lies.

“Hermoso, we’ve been married for 6 years, I know when somethings up” you smile taking his hand into yours and kissing the back of it softly while watching for his reaction.

“I just … nevermind it’s stupid” he sighs looking down.

“None of your feelings are stupid baby, please let me in” you say calmly.

“I just feel like, I’m so singled out on the grid. You’ve got so many amazing drivers and then there’s me. Lewis is a 7x world champion, and and Max my own team mate has won 2, and he’s probably going to win this year by a landslide and then there’s Fernando again he has two championships, and then you’ve got all this new talent in Lando, and Charles and Carlos and now that Oscar is here, it’s getting tough” he admits and you softly smile at him.

“Where have all these doubts come from honey?” You ask, you knew he didn’t think he was the best driver, but he never once compared his abilities to individual drivers.

“Christian said that if I didn’t improve he’d replace me with Yuki, Liam or Daniel and that i might not even get a AlphaTauri seat as a replacement” he says putting his face in his hands with a soft sigh.

You pull him into a hug in which he nuzzles his head into your neck.

You are an incredible driver, there’s just such an insane amount of talent on the grid right now, you being one of them. World champion or not baby, your still one of only 20 drivers in the world that are here! Your a race winner and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. You are incredible” you smile wrapping your arms around him while you feel him shake a little, presumably where he’s crying.

“Im just awful at it all. Driving, being a husband … you’ve been asking for a baby for 3 years and I keep telling you no because I’m so career focused but I can’t even seem to be good at that career” he complains and you almost laugh.

“Oh honey, I think you forget you are without a doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to me, child or no child. And where you aren’t ready because your at a point in your career that is crucial, I’ll always understand that darling. You are all I need, you are all I want. And I married you because I’m happy with you” you say tightening your hold on him.

“You know, I would never not be ready to have a kid. If you want one, we can have one. I’d never say no” he argues wiping his eyes and looking at you, only for you to release a breath of relief.

“Thank god, that night in Saudi Arabia really stuck” you admit and he cocks his head to the side not understanding. You take his hand and place it on your stomach, there wasn’t much of a bump, but a slight and minuscule weight gain was there. Enough that when he run his hand over your tummy he could feel it.

“Are you saying?” He asks and you nod.

“I know, I know it’s not the right time because your so stressed and I’ve been so nervous to tell you because I know you’ve had a lot on your plate since being in Red Bull and it was such a shock to me” you start to ramble thinking you should have waited.

“No this is the best news ever! This has made my day, my week, my year even!” He smiles before lifting you up and twirling you round.

“I love you” he says pulling you in for a kiss, happy with life.

And now he didn’t have anything to worry about, as long as he was able to provide for you and your child or children in the future he knew he could handle the pressure because now there was something else riding on it!

A/N: hey guys I didn’t realise tumblr only lets you do 50 tags per post! So I’m not sure what to do about taglist anymore? Any suggestions?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sergio perez x you #sergio perez imagine #sergio perez x reader #sergio checo pérez #sergio perez #checo perez #sp11 x reader #sp11 #sp11 x you #sp11 fic

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I’ve loved seeing y’all’s comments so far 😈 This is the most evil I’ve ever felt when posting a fic

Warnings: Hotch being a dick (but get used to that bc it’s not stopping); brief non-descriptive smut at the end (the REAL smut comes later dw)

Don’t forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be notified when a new chapter goes up!

Two: Was it obvious to everybody else? — “No Time To Die” by Billie Eilish

Aaron seemed to be doing better after a few more weeks. He settled in more, and got back in the groove of the BAU. You encouraged him to come out for drinks or dinner with the team, and he actually agreed. Probably because you were there, but you didn’t talk about that.

You didn’t talk about how he ended up coming home with you, or vice versa. How most days you woke up next to each other, no clothes separating you. How it really wasn’t appropriate for a boss to date an employee, especially in the FBI.

But you kept things professional in the BAU office. No one knew any different. Even out with the team, you kept your distance. You stood across the table from him most nights at the bars, to exercise restraint when you had alcohol in your system. Never mind the fact that he left first, and you shortly after, but you came in separate cars, so no one suspected a thing.

He was smiling more, laughing just a little. He had his moods, his moments when the grief manifested as irritation that he couldn't hide. His short sentences made their appearances, but they did before.

Hotch really seemed to be doing better, and everyone was relieved, happy for him.

Until the next case.

Everyone saw it. The similarities to what happened with Foyet were downright uncanny. The phone call, the taunting, right down to the husband coming home to find the mother and child murdered before he was murdered as well.

Everyone saw the sudden change in Hotch.

You kept a watchful eye on him as JJ gave the case. You weren’t the only one watching Hotch, but you were definitely the least discreet. And he noticed, locking eyes with you once and returning your concerned gaze with a frustrated glare.

“Wheels up in 15,” Hotch said, standing and scooping up his files. “Y/N, I need to speak with you in my office.”

You followed him, shrugging your shoulders to the rest of the team when they gave you questioning looks. You were sure he was upset that you kept watching him, but considering how things had been going lately for the two of you, you thought he might want…something else. You tried not to let your excitement show.

Hotch stood in his office with his hand on the door, waiting for you. He shut it behind you.

“Do we have a problem?”

You took a step back, blinking in shock. Never mind on the sex, then. “Excuse me?”

“Do we have a problem?” Hotch repeated. He hadn’t raised his voice, but he didn’t need to.

“No, sir,” you answered. It had been a while since you spoke to him this way, where he was very clearly your boss, Agent Hotchner, and not Aaron who you took showers with. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, which you knew was a lie. “We have somewhere to be.”

You nodded. “Let’s go.”

+++

You sat away from Hotch on the plane, opting for a spot on the couch next to JJ. He was unreasonably angry with you at the moment, and you had no idea why, but you were determined to find out.

When he excused himself to the bathroom, you leaned closer to JJ. “Is it just me, or is he on edge?”

She didn’t need you to specify who he is. She nodded with wide eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on. This case went straight to his desk and he approved it before even showing it to me,” she said. “I don’t even know if we’ve officially been invited in. I’m trying to figure that out before we get there.”

“What?” you hissed. He never did that. “JJ, that’s not good.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking down at her file. Quietly, she mumbled, “It’s so similar.”

You heard the bathroom door open, so all you did was silently nod in reply. The details were too similar, and if he personally approved the case…

He shouldn’t be back at work. You knew in your gut that day that it was too soon. Things were going so well, you thought maybe you were wrong, maybe being back at work was what he needed to stay sane. But this was bad, especially for him.

Garcia said he passed his psych eval, but that means nothing to profilers. All of you know how to answer those questions correctly to get back to work, even if you shouldn’t be back. Everyone has done it at least once after being injured, but the situations have never been as bad as Hotch’s.

He should be retired. You knew it, even though you’d hate to see him gone.

“Y/N, I want you to come with me and Morgan to the crime scene,” Hotch announced, startling you. “It’s a big home, so we’ll need to split up. JJ, set up at the precinct with Reid, we need to know everything we can about this family. Get Garcia to send any and all information over. Emily, go with Rossi to some of the neighbors, maybe they noticed something leading up to this.”

Everyone nodded, knowing their next steps. You kept your eyes purposefully away from Hotch’s, wondering how the crime scene was going to go over with him.

+++

Morgan drove to the crime scene (you were surprised Hotch let him) and you sat in the backseat, able to share glances with Morgan through the rearview mirror.

Out of everyone on the team, Morgan is the most likely to ask the difficult questions, no matter who it is. Hotch wasn’t exempt from Morgan’s curiosity.

So you were not surprised when Morgan voiced the concerns that had been swirling in your head.

“Hotch, listen,” Morgan began, and you knew exactly where it was going. “Are you sure you want to go to the crime scene?”

“Yes,” Hotch replied, quick and sharp. “Why?”

Morgan shrugged, though you both knew the answer. “I noticed some similarities in the case file.”

“To?”

You sighed. His stubbornness was going to make this case unbearable. “To Foyet,” you blurted, ripping the bandaid off. “I know you saw it too.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment. “I did.”

“Okay,” Morgan said. “If it’s too much, Hotch, that’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine,” he snapped, his temper already rising. “If it wasn’t, I’d be elsewhere. I don’t need to be micromanaged.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Morgan snapped back, becoming just as irritated. “I’m here for you, man. I know none of us understand what you’ve been through, but we’re looking out for you.”

“Thanks.”

You shared a look with Morgan in the rearview mirror, raising your eyebrows at each other.

+++

Aaron stood idly in the living room. The father, Jonathan, was killed there. Behind the couch, a blood stain soaks into cream carpet.

Family pictures decorated the walls, mostly of the daughter, Elise. Very few had the mother, Georgia, next to the father. Marital problems were brewing just under the surface.

A lamp laid across the back of the couch, the shade ripped and crooked. The struggle lasted longer than the police initially thought. Aaron knew it had. He remembered. The fury that ignites when a father sees his wife and son together, dead, mutilated like animals.

Even if Jonathan was never going to win the fight, he was determined to do damage before he went down. To make the unsub pay. Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if the unsub has bruises and cuts at the very least, a broken rib or two at most.

Upstairs, Aaron could hear your and Morgan’s muffled voices and soft footsteps. He remembered how silent the house was when he arrived, when Foyet was hiding. No one moved, no one breathed. The house braced itself for what was to come.

Aaron turned toward the staircase, heard his body tumbling down on top of Foyet’s. The groaning of pain, he thought one of Foyet’s ribs broke then. Or maybe it finally broke when he kicked him.

The glass coffee table was cracked, surprisingly not shattered, but one more hit would’ve done it.

One more hit. One more. Just one more.

Aaron closed his eyes, his face warm with the memory of blood splattering his skin. Knuckles cracking from punch after punch after punch. Foyet had long gone silent, all that was left was the sound of Aaron’s heartbeat pounding in his ears.

His fists clenched. When he got his hands on this unsub…

“Nothing identifiable upstairs,” you said.

Hotch opened his eyes. He didn’t hear you or Morgan come down. You both insisted on taking the second floor, where the mother and daughter were murdered, and Hotch didn’t argue. He wanted to be left alone.

“It doesn’t look like they struggled,” Morgan added. “They might have known him.”

“Or he used a ruse,” Hotch said, his words clipped.

“Or that,” you nodded, not wanting to argue with him. “It doesn’t look like they suffered. Torture was not part of this.”

Hotch didn’t look at you. He knew what you were trying to do. And he didn’t want to hear it.

“The father struggled with our unsub for a while,” Hotch noted, pointing out his observations. “Our unsub is in shape, as was the father.”

“Garcia said the father had a gym membership,” Morgan supplied. Garcia had called while you were upstairs with some extra details and to check on Hotch.

“Both of you go there next,” Hotch said. “I’ll go back to the precinct.”

“Alright,” you said, glad to get him out of the house.

+++

After dropping Hotch off at the precinct, you and Morgan headed straight to the gym where the father regularly went.

Unfortunately, it turned up empty. The manager gave you and Morgan full access to all of the security footage, and you were able to see Jonathan on it, but nothing suspicious. You sent all of the tapes to Garcia to review more closely, but you didn’t think anything would come out of them. (Nothing did.)

Hotch finally told everyone to get some sleep around ten, but to be back at it by seven the next morning. It took some convincing, but you got him to get in the car with you.

“Even if you don’t sleep,” you said. “You can still shower and relax. Get out of the suit for a few hours.”

He smirked. And nodded.

And ended up in your bed just an hour later.

Not a single hint of alcohol was on his lips. His hair was wet from a shower, and his back was still damp. He barely made it out from under the water before throwing clothes on to come next door to see you. And you barely had enough time to register what he was there for before he was hovering over you on the bed.

“Please,” he whispered, toying with the hem of your t-shirt. “Let me.”

It didn’t take much more than that. You had wanted this for so long.

Clothes flung in every direction; you’d find them tomorrow morning at some point, when it mattered. It didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing that did was feeling Hotch’s skin on yours, feeling his fingertips tighten on your hip bones.

All he wanted was to make you feel good, to apologize for his mood in this one way that he knew you’d understand. He didn’t mean it when he got sharp with you, not really. He never wanted to. It always just happened. He couldn’t ever control it.

Somehow, with no words at all, you understood. “I know,” you murmured over and over, threading your fingers through his hair. With every kiss, every thrust, every breath, you knew. You knew what he wanted to say, but was too afraid to utter. You knew. You knew him.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x fem!reader #unsub!hotch x fem!reader #unsub!hotch x reader #unsub!hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #unsub!hotch #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #criminal minds smut

[pappydaddy]

i'm yours (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader *cis!female anatomical parts mentioned

requested by another lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: not having labels muddles things up. luckily, they don't need labels to know they are mad about each other. though, labels might not hurt - might even save some noses.

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543| @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover*line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: spicy, spicy, spicy. dry humping. dirty. reader is horny. blood. broken nose. punching. fluff (if you squint) 18+ please and thank you. characters are aged up as per usual!

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

 It was as if the stars aligned just the right way, because there she stood, the girl that had been consuming JJ’s mind twenty-four-seven lately. The moonlight rained down on her like a glowing spotlight, pointing her out to him as if he needed any help finding her in a crowd. And then, the stars must have shifted because as the dancing crowd moved just right, it revealed someone unpleasant standing beside her - talking her ear off, Topper. With his stupid shorts and polo top matched with his stupid boat shoes. 

  Bitterness swirled in JJ’s stomach as his face twisted into a scowl, his heart lurched, almost as if it wanted to jump out of his chest and strangle Topper. He knew what her opinion on Topper and other Kooks were - she hated him, but she doesn’t like making scenes so she suffers through conversations. She was too nice (or shy, he wasn’t too sure which yet) to tell him to piss off, but JJ wasn’t. However, something did hold him back. They weren’t official yet. And that was completely on him. He was the one dragging his feet on this one, but now he realized his mistake. 

  He’s taken it slow with her. She was too perfect and too innocent for him, so he was scared of either ruining her and her life or scaring her off with all of his baggage. Her friend’s opinions of him didn’t help his self-doubt. He knew they hated him. He knew they were telling her to move on, to forget him. But she didn’t listen. Even if there wasn’t a label, it was clear to both of them that this thing was more than just fooling around. They had feelings for each other. It was obvious when he kissed her and her first reaction is always to blush or do that cute little panicked hand flap as if she was surprised he would kiss her before her body melted into him.

�� “Screw it.” JJ’s eyes zeroed in on Topper as he inched closer to Y/N, obviously flirting despite Y/N clearly wanting out of the situation. He was a large guy, standing at six feet and having a decent amount of muscle, so it didn’t surprise him when he reached the pair quickly, but it did surprise him that he reached them in what felt like five seconds - he stumbled a bit, feeling like he was transported there instead of walking. 

  Y/N spotted him first, those beautiful eyes JJ loved looking into so much, catching his and widening as if asking him for help, which was exactly what he planned to do. “What do you want, Pogue?” Topper’s snarl made JJ look over at him, blue eyes cold and hard, as if he was aiming to kill him. 

  “I was coming over here to ask what the hell you’re doing flirting with someone who is clearly not yours to flirt with.” JJ squared his shoulders, stepping up to Topper, showing the slight but noticeable height difference between them when JJ pulls to his full height. Y/N’s mouth fell open, eyes watching JJ as he puffed his chest out slightly. ‘Hot damn!’ She thought, eyes flicking all over his body before looking back at the tense stare off. 

  “Last I checked, she was single.” Topper gestured toward Y/N, shooting her a wink, but JJ shifted to hide her from him, scoffing at this. 

  “Oh, news to me, because I don’t think what we’ve been doing screams ‘just friends’,” JJ put air quotes around the phrase, looking back at her with his jaw set in a way that made her want to drop to her knees right there. “What do you think, Sweets?” He asked her, his voice deep and dark, almost as if it was strained. The nickname. The voice. The look. The protectiveness. It all went right between her legs. 

  “Definitely not.” She confirmed, bottom lip being sucked between her teeth as she crossed her legs as discreetly as she could while standing, squeezing. She had to admit, she was already hot and bothered from watching from across the party all night, and now it was like someone opened the floodgates. She could jump him right then and there, but Topper just won’t let go. 

  “Still single, man,” Topper shook his head with his stupid smirk, making JJ whirl his head back around at such a rate it startled both Y/N and Topper. For a moment, Y/N was concerned that he had hurt his neck, but didn’t realize since he was hyped up on a mix of one beer, testosterone, and adrenaline. “She’s fair game for the rest of us-” 

  Topper didn’t get to finish his sentence before JJ’s fist met his nose, a sickening crack sounding as a loudly hissed ‘Fuck!’ left Topper’s mouth, his hands flying up to his nose which must have been broken from the amount of pain, blood, and the sound. “Hey, you saw he was disrespecting her, right?” JJ looked over to the group of people who were standing around, trying not to look like they were listening from the jump. 

  They all nodded furiously. “One of you put your information in my phone.” Y/N pulled her phone out, unlocking it and opening contacts, handing it to the group. After graduating, JJ learned his lesson - always have a witness or two to confirm his story (true or not). Y/N usually was the one who got a witness' contact information to keep in case they needed it. With Topper, they would definitely need it, he’s pressed charges before. 

  Glancing over at Topper, she saw a mass of people around him, someone holding their discarded shirt to his nose to stem the bleeding. Over the balled up fabric, he was glaring at the two of them, saying something but they couldn’t hear through the shirt and over the loud nose. Eyes flicking over to JJ, she looked up at him, his back still turned towards her, heaving. His fists were still clenched, almost as if he was ready for someone to come try to avenge Topper or Topper to come flying at them. 

  “Here you go, we put her number in.” A shaky voice pulled her eyes away from JJ. A boy held her phone out to her, his hand and whole body shaking slightly, eyes pleading with her to take the phone before JJ turned around. He was scared of JJ. He was intimidating, probably, she assumed since all she saw was a guy with such a large heart and an urge to protect anything he cares about with all his might. 

  “Thank you,” She took the phone, locking and pocketing it. “JJ, we should leave.” She shuffled the rest of the way over to JJ, her toes getting buried in the sand despite her sandals. For the first time since the punch, JJ looked over at her as she gripped his arm. As soon as his eyes met hers, they softened, but seemed to get darker. His chest rested, no longer heaving, and his fists relaxed, one arm snaking around her waist to pull her against him. 

____

  When she suggested they leave, she was more concerned about the possibility of cops showing up to bust the party since there was a strong possibility of someone snitching after that punch was thrown. She didn’t even think this could happen. She didn’t think he would want to. Part of her even thought he would be mad that she let Topper flirt with her, but as he muttered into her neck not long ago, he knew she didn’t want him. Didn’t want him the way she wanted JJ. Didn’t want him talking to her. Didn’t want him anywhere near her. He knew that.  

  Really, they barely even left the party since they managed to make it to the Twinkie and that was as far as they went. In all fairness, JJ was the one who brought it since everyone else had drives already. So the van was all theirs according to him. Imagine her shock when JJ’s lips landed on hers, lips moving against hers with such passion she kind of thought it was a dream. She had expected a fight. Maybe that was her own messed up trauma coming forth, but she least expected to have his tongue in her mouth and his hands roaming around her body. 

   She hummed into his mouth as he gently started to guide her down on her back. ‘God bless the Twinkie’s lack of seats.’ She thought once her back met the floor of the van, JJ’s weight shifting as he settled between her legs, his body pressing against her in just the right way. She could feel everything. From the heat radiating off of him to every single dip and ridge of his muscled abdomen. 

  Her eyes opened when JJ pulled his mouth away, catching a glimpse of the dark interior. JJ had parked in a rather secluded spot. With trees hanging over the van, all planted in a row behind the van, they were perfectly hidden. A bit of moonlight slipped through the leaves, illuminated the inside so softly. Her eyes shifted, looking at JJ’s body pressed against her. The way the soft lighting surrounded him, it made him look pure and soft - just like she always pictured him. “You got quiet,” JJ muttered against her skin as he kissed along her neck and shoulders. “What’s going on in there?” He asked, pulling away to look at her for a moment. 

  A ray of moonlight hit his eyes, making them sparkle like two ocean blue gems. “Just thinking about how beautiful you are.” She uttered, her hands sliding up from where they rested on his sides to cup his face. Pulling his lips back to hers, he let her lead the kiss. Soft. Loving. Tender. JJ felt like they were in one of those romance movies she loves to watch. She took a deep breath in, lips pulling back only enough to do so as if she was trying to breath him in. 

   Eyes fluttering open again, her eyes stared up at him - big and darkened with want and need. Looking into those eyes was all it took for JJ to snap. Instantly, his lips were on hers again, but only for a moment until they trailed down to the spot he knew so well - sucking. Harshly. 

  Y/N’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head, mouth opening and head falling back as she moaned. She always responded like that and JJ knew it. She also knew he knew by the feeling of his smirk against her now widely exposed neck. “JJ, careful-“ She panted, back arching off the floor as he slid his hands under her, dragging against the smooth skin of her back. “What if-“ As his hands hit the thin strap resting on her back that was holding her bikini closed, it was like she couldn’t speak in full sentences. “Someone sees the mark.” 

  She warned, but she knew it was futile since his attack seemed to have shifted from that spot and was now inching down to her collarbones as he pulled on the string of her bathing suit. “So what,” He muttered against her skin, the vibrations tickling her slightly but she was too turned on to pay anything but the need for friction any mind. “That way everyone will know you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

  His words went right to two places. Her heart, but mostly her vagina. Maybe like one percent to the heart. More will go later, after he rails her in the back of his best friend's van. “I’m yours, JJ. In every way.” 

  Too overcome with the need for some sort of relief, her hips rolled against JJ’s. A synchronous moan filled the air. She didn’t stop the movement, making JJ still his merciless teasing. She wanted to open her eyes to look at him, to see why he was frozen as she continued to rub herself against his still body. Thankfully, he was a strong guy with good endurance so even with her trapped under him, she could rub against him and get herself off. She was well on her merry way to doing just that. 

  Moans spilling out from both of them, her movements quickened and became sloppier. She was squirming now, face screwed up. Before she met JJ, she was sure this was an orgasm. She couldn’t understand how it could get any better than this, but then JJ showed her just what she was missing and she was proven wrong. 

  That’s why she sobbed when one of JJ’s hands freed themselves from where they had a death grip on her bathing suit and gripped her hip, stopping her movements. “JJ!” She cried desperately, panting as she tried to roll her hips again. 

  “Gorgeous, if you keep doing that, this is gonna be over way too quick, and neither of us want that.” He practically growled and she gasped. Partially from the shock that ran through her, feeding her beating heart and also feeding her pooling wetness. Also from the fact that with a yank of his hand her top was untied and with another, her top was off and thrown elsewhere. “Now, let me savor everything my girlfriend has to offer.” His voice was deep, in a dark and an arousing way. 

  But what really got her was how his blue eyes remained locked with hers as he dragged his lips down her body. A trail of goosebumps and tingles were left, marking the path he took. From the base of her throat, down the valley of her breasts (where there was a brief pit stop to nip and suck - knowing she loved it), down her stomach, and stopping at the top of her jean shorts.    Their eye contact was unbreakable and somehow he managed to make it a form of sexual teasing. He didn’t even look as he unbuttoned her shorts, pulling them and her bathing suit bottoms down together. Those too were thrown carelessly. He only broke their eye contact for a second, if you could even count it as a full second, to look down at her bare core. “My girlfriend is all sprawled out here looking like a whole-ass buffet. All you can eat, I hope.” He winked before dipping down, hands pushing her legs apart. The last thing she saw was that damn smirk before his lips disappeared and she gasped out a sudden moan. Eyes closing, legs widening before trying to snap shut around his head (his hands already placed to stop her), and her back arching off the floor with her head flying back.

#pappydaddy #pappydaddy's 800 follower celebration #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank oneshots #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank preference #jj maybank preferences #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank obx #jj obx imagine #jj obx fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fics #obx jj #jj outer banks #outer banks #obx3 #obx fic #obx2

[notinmyvocab]

Laundry Day

There's a mix-up at the laundromat. How embarrassing.

LarissaxOFC, swearing, general dorkiness

read part ii here

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Alice stared at the large pile of laundry on top of the dryers, recognizing a few pieces of her clothing mixed into the jumble.

“Oh my.”

Alice turned to see a tall, striking woman approach. The woman reached into the pile and pulled out a garment that clearly belonged to her. “Seems someone was impatient with the dryers,” Alice said to the woman.

“Just my luck,” Larissa muttered. Of course, her washer and dryer needed replacing right before she needed laundry done. Using the Jericho Laundromat was a perfectly logical solution until her new washer and dryer showed up, but now she was regretting the choice.

“Well… guess we’ve got some sorting ahead of us.”

“Indeed,” Larissa sighed.

“Alice, by the way.” It seemed logical to introduce herself considering they would now tasked with sorting through each other’s personal items.

“Larissa.”

Larissa. It was an exquisite name, made even more divine when said in such a warm, buttery voice. But now was not the time to indulge small crushes; there was laundry to do.

Armfuls of clothing were brought to the back of the laundromat, away from prying eyes. This would be easy, Alice was sure of it. Their styles were rather different. Everything casual belonged to her, and everything elegant belonged to Larissa. Simple.

And for a while, it was. Wordlessly, the two women sorted through the clothing, taking what was theirs and handing off what wasn’t.

The silence was then replaced by a soft melody, upbeat and catchy. Alice was humming.

“What song is that?” Larissa asked.

Alice silenced herself, a tad embarrassed. It had been an unconscious action and now she had to explain something that would probably make her sound like a complete dork. “It’s um… so there’s this… musical. And there’s a song called ‘My Freeze Ray.’ But like… it takes place when two characters are at the laundromat.”

She braced herself for the judgment; for Larissa to roll her eyes or scoff. Instead, Larissa smiled, and suddenly it was easier to breathe. The two fell into conversation.

Larissa was a principal. Alice worked at the Weathervane.

“How odd; I’ve never seen you there before,” said Larissa.

“I’m always there before opening, and in the back. I’m the baker.”

Larissa raised her eyebrows. “Do you mean to say that you’re responsible for the orange-cranberry muffins?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Those are my absolute favorites; I get one every chance I get.”

Alice blushed, grinning stupidly. “I’m actually really glad to hear that. I was messing around with a family recipe and came up with that.”

“Well, it’s delicious. You have my mark of approval.”

The two women basked in the kind moment, but it was terribly brief. They had gone through most of the laundry at that point. The idea of ending the conversation so soon wasn’t what gave each of them pause, though. It was what remained.

Alice wouldn’t say she was embarrassed by intimates, but the idea of Larissa possibly handling her plain cotton underwear mortified her. It seemed Larissa felt the same, for the older woman also hesitated.

Deciding to take initiative, Alice plunged her hand into the piling of clothing and pulled out the first thing her fingers curled around. It was her own underwear, thank god. She began folding.

Larissa watched intently, not captivated by the garment, but by Alice’s candor. Feeling emboldened, Larissa did the same, grabbing a pair of her stockings. She folded them delicately, unable to ignore Alice watching her out of the corner of her eye.

The silence that befell them wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a certain tension that Alice couldn’t name. She tried powering through it until she noticed that Larissa began folding a pair of panties that she definitely recognized.

“Oh, um… I think… those are mine?” Her cheeks flushed as red as the panties that Larissa held: lacy and revealing.

Larissa looked down at the garment, her cheeks also coloring. “Oh! I’m sorry I thought… I um… I have a similar pair; I thought they were mine.” Embarrassed, Larissa handed over the underwear. “You um… you have good taste.”

Alice giggled, more out of embarrassment. “Thanks. There was uh… there was a sale somewhere.” She dug into the pile of clothes again and grasped a pair of underwear that she prayed was hers.

No such luck.

“Here,” she said quickly, handing off the thong, trying not to let her gaze linger on it. She didn’t wear thongs, never having a need for them. But it seemed Larissa didn’t mind them; there appeared to be a few in the pile.

Mortified, Larissa snatched the thong away from Alice, and tried collecting the ones remaining in the pile.

“They’re cute,” Alice said, trying to make Larissa feel better about the whole situation. It was awkward for the both of them, but they weren’t suffering in awkwardness alone. “You… you’ve got good taste, too.”

Jesus. Could she be any more of a loser?

Alice exhaled heavily. “Okay, we have to sort through out things. People wear underwear and bras and stuff. It doesn’t have to be weird, right?”

“…Right,” Larissa agreed, albeit hesitantly. She wasn’t used to being so exposed, especially to a stranger. “I suppose you’re correct. We’re both mature adults.”

Alice wasn’t so sure about mature. She fancied herself mature for her age, but honestly she couldn’t help but imagine Larissa, this tall goddess, wearing the thong she held in her hands.

Panicking, Alice pulled out her cellphone as if someone was calling her. But Larissa saw that the screen was black. “Sorry, gotta take this,” Alice said, putting her phone to her ears and walking out of the laundromat at a brisk pace.

Once outside, she put her phone back into her pocket and took a deep breath. Fucking hell. This situation had gone from mortifying, to chill, to mortifying again. Maybe she should just leave? She could always buy new clothes, right?

“Alice?”

Alice looked over to see Larissa approaching her.

“Sorry, I just…” Alice faltered. What could she even say? She wanted to throw up.

“I actually have to get going. I have a meeting to get to,” Larissa said quickly. “If you don’t mind… I can bring the rest of the laundry to my place in the meantime, and you could… if you have the time, you can come over tonight and we can finish sorting?”

“Yes,” Alice answered immediately, not even giving a second to the offer some thought. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Give me your phone.”

Alice complied without question, handing over the device after unlocking it. Within seconds, Larissa added her contact and texted herself so that she had Alice’s number as well.

Already Alice felt immensely better about the whole ordeal. They could continue this in true privacy, and she could take some much needed time to get her head on straight.

“There,” Larissa said, handing back the phone. “I’ll send you the details when I’m out of my meeting.”

Alice agreed, and the two women parted ways, Alice returning to her apartment and Larissa storing the laundry in the trunk of the van and heading off to her meeting.

A few hours passed, and Alice wondered if Larissa would ever text her. Surely a stranger wouldn’t just steal her clothes? Then again, there were a lot of weirdos out there.

Finally, her phone buzzed. Overeager, Alice lunged for the device and opened her messages.

Sorry about the wait! All settled; come on by!

Another message told Alice the address. Perfect. Alice was about to store her phone away in her back pocket when it buzzed again; another text message with a photo attached.

And what a photo it was. Larissa stood in front of her mirror, hair pinned up still and makeup immaculate. But instead of the dress she wore earlier she wore… oh fuck.

Alice’s heart stopped as she stared at the photo, mouth going dry. Apparently the red lace panties Larissa mentioned owning had a matching bra and garter set.

Another text: you’re right, I do have good taste 😉

#larissa weems #fanfiction #my writing