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2hoothoots · 2 years

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So what exactly is Dion’s deal did he never apologise to raz after raz ran for camp or the whole joining the psychonauts thing I think it’s a bit silly to still hold a grudge for so long especially from what your ten year old brother did when you were a teen or is it a series of misunderstandings mix with miscommunications that piled up over time????

(for reference, this post introduces where Dion is in FSAU and his relationship with Raz!)

the answer to that is kind of a big ol' "it's complicated". but a large part of it is just that, yeah, they kind of never really resolved that tension of Dion being angry at Raz for running away? i was gonna write an essay but actually i think a ficlet is a more interesting way to get the same ideas across, so:

"Y'know, you still never apologised."

Dion's hands stilled over the knot on the tent rope. He met Frazie's eyes, and Frazie grimaced. She shook her head.

Don't, her mind urged, nudging against the dull embers of his own. I know you've been needling each other all day, but can we please just once have a get-together without you two blowing up at each other?

Dion either didn't notice her suggestion, or flat-out ignored it. He fastened the knot, and then rose to look over his shoulder at Raz.

"Apologised for what, exactly?"

Raz was stood over by the tub, washing dishes with his back turned to the two of them. His body language was casual as he shrugged, but Frazie didn't miss the shivers of tension that rippled off his aura.

"Oh, you know," he said lightly, "for how you treated me when I came back from Whispering Rock. And come to think of it, how you've treated me every year after that, too. But hey, who's counting?"

Dion strode over. Frazie's mental urgings became a klaxon - don't, don't, for god's sake Dion just let it go this once -

"Funny that you think I should be the one apologizing."

Raz set a dish down hard on the table.

"Funny, huh?" There was unrestrained venom in his voice, now. Frazie turned her focus to him, but her mind had barely brushed against his own before there were iron-clad barriers slamming down. It was like having a door shut on your fingers, and Frazie recoiled, wincing as a headache blossomed across her temples.

"That's right," Dion said. "After everything you did, you still think you deserve an apology?"

Raz dried his hands off, and turned, slowly. Dion had come right up to him, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin in every effort to reduce the height difference between them. Raz leaned back, a careful, obvious display of nonchalance, and Dion moved forward another inch.

"Everything I did, huh?" Raz said. "Hey, Frazie, are you hearing this? Dion says that I-"

"Can you two just stop, already?" Frazie cut in. "I'm so sick of - you have this argument every time! When is one of you going to grow up and-"

Dion thrust his finger at Raz, and Raz flinched back another inch. "Yeah, right, like he wasn't the one who started this whole-"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Frazie hissed.

"I'm not! I'm talking to-"

"I started it, huh?" Raz's grin was almost a snarl, a wary animal showing teeth as he eyed up Dion. "Now how's that figure?"

Dion turned back to him, eyes blazing.

"Don't play dumb," he said. "You know what you did."

"Explain it to me, smart guy."

"You want me to say it? Fine! I'll say it!" Dion flung his arms out - he was really yelling now, the same way Dad always had, and Raz's snarl pulled back to his molars. "You abandoned our family! You betrayed the man who raised you, you turned your back on the circus-"

"The circus?!" Raz crowed. "This is about the circus, now?"

"Don't act like it's not," Dion fumed. "We've lost half our act. Did you even think about how hard it is to keep things running, to put shows together with two less pairs of hands?"

"The circus is doing fine-"

"You knew this was Dad's dream!" For a moment, Dion's voice cracked, something other than anger showing on his face. "You've heard him talk about it, same as I have. About how all he wants is to bring the family name back to its old glory. But that's right, you never cared about any of that."

Raz straightened up, setting into his stance as Dion moved closer into his space.

"Dad wanted me to be happy," he said.

Dion scoffed. "Sure. Because all you ever think about is yourself."

"Yeah, well, you know what?" Raz shot back. "I am happy! I bet that's more than can be said for you, isn't it, Dion?"

"I know there's more important things than-"

"Gotta make sure you're Dad's favourite, isn't that right?" Raz was holding himself back from shouting, but the words were picking up speed like a freight train. "Gotta make him happy! Gotta live his dreams for him, because god forbid you think about yourself for once in your miserable life! Or maybe you're afraid, huh, maybe you're scared that one day he'll be angry at you and-"

"Our father is-"

"Enough!" Frazie yelled. "I am done with having to listen to this from you two! Either take it outside the camp, or can it."

The two of them locked eyes with her for a moment, Dion with his jaw clenched and Raz's shoulders rising and falling. Then, abruptly, Raz slammed the rag he was holding onto the table and spun sharply on his heel to stride away.

"Hey!" Dion snapped, reaching out and seizing his arm. "I'm not done with-"

Frazie felt something suddenly light up blazing in Raz's aura - tension, fear, panic, danger danger danger - and then Raz moved too fast for her eyes to follow, pivoting his torso, and when she blinked Dion was sprawled out on the ground, wheezing as the wind was knocked out of him.

Raz was breathing hard. She took a step forward, and he flinched, his head snapping up to meet her gaze. He blinked. Then suddenly the tension that had been boiling at his brow was gone, dispelled in an instant. He cleared his throat, and straightened up, brushing himself down.

Dion groaned.

"What the fuck was that for," he gasped, struggling to lift himself up onto his elbows. Raz flinched again, and then looked away.

"Don't - don't come at me from behind like that," he said stiffly. He flexed his hands, and then added, "I'm gonna go - check on the caravans."

He turned, brushing past Frazie as she knelt to help Dion up. Once he was out of earshot, she said, "good job, dumbass."

Dion gave her a look that was equal parts pissed-off and pleading.

"I - he - he sta-"

"'He started it'?" Frazie simpered. "Gimme a break. You need to grow up. Both of you," she added, when Dion opened his mouth to retort.

Dion closed his mouth again. But he didn't say anything straight away. He just furrowed his brow, leaning on his elbows and staring off into the forest.

"Hey," Frazie said, when it had become clear that Dion would be content to brood for the rest of the evening. "Listen, you two need to talk about this. And I don't mean another shouting match, I mean, like actually talking."

Dion pouted. "Ugh, don't start. Next thing you're gonna say I need to apologise to you, too."

Frazie usually had a pretty high tolerance for bullshit from her whiny brothers. But after everything else she'd put up with that day, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. She shoved Dion back into the dirt, and leapt to her feet.

"Fine," she said, striding away as he spluttered. "Screw you too, asshole."

#tl;dr raz and dion refuse to communicate and also they both have a bunch of trauma #raz usually has pretty good emotional intelligence but his family is a big blind spot for him #and dion is just totally emotionally repressed. he learned from the best (his dad lol)#so they never talk about it and it's something that just ends up festering between them #it's not often that they really blow up at each other but when they do it's very messy #frazie sometimes mediates because she's individually very close to both of them #but also she has her own shit to do and doesn't have time to try and mend their relationship #when what's really needed is work and communication from both of them #anyway this is very rough and not really edited but i think it's more interesting than just reading a long essay #saying 'yeah dion's bad at emotions and raz has a bad reaction to people yelling so they're still mad at each other'#fsau raz #fsau frazie #fsau dion #fsau meta

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anxietyrobot · 1 year

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every once in a while i relearn that one of my favorite tropes is two people who have a past together

#ESPECIALLY IF ITS A ROUGH ONE #because i like them working it out it feels great when they eventually do adfasdf #im not a big fan of like. exes getting back together like i never gravitate towards those #but a close relationship falling apart and then they dont see each other for ages #and then they are forced to be in the same spot together and slowly mend the relationship and start falling in love

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months

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After the timestream, the tension between Tim and three of his brothers (Dick, Jason, and Damian) is a bit high. He's been polite and cordial with them, but there's this emotional distance that wasn't there before. When he was mad or upset with them, he'd actually show it. Now, it's like talking to an underpaid customer service representative.

In one of the sitting rooms, Dick is lamenting to Jason and Damian about Tim's distance. The two of them aren't that interested in Dick's woes as he prattles on and on. Yes, they no longer hate Tim, nor do they try to kill or maim him. They also just don't like him at this point. Going from antagonistic to grudging indifference was already a huge step. It's not like they've really conversed with Tim either. There's absolutely nothing to build a relationship on besides their not so great history. They don't really care to get to know him either.

So the two are listening to Dick vent about his relationship with Tim when something the eldest says sparks a slight incredulous irritation in them. Dick acknowledges that Tim probably felt hurt by the older's actions. Therefore, Dick concludes that it's obvious that Duke is Tim's favorite brother.

Now, listen. Both Jason and Damian like Duke. He's funny, kind, and somehow still has Bruce convinced the kid isn't the chaos gremlin he absolutely is. There's bets on how long it will take for Bruce to notice some of his headaches are coming from Duke (it's like the man doesn't remember Duke's origins). Neither Jason nor Damian have any issues with the kid.

However, Duke has been a family member for a few months at best. They're still getting to know each other. Both Damian and Jason have been brothers with Tim for years. There's absolutely no way this newbie wins best brother.

The two are not happy with the revelation, but Dick keeps talking. He, as if to himself, wonders aloud who Tim prefers more between Jason and Damian.

The two turn to look wearily at each other.

The final nail is the coffin is Dick giving up on finding out because neither of them are good at talking to Tim anyways. What's the point on speculating?

This cues weeks of the two competing with each other and, unbeknownst to him, with Duke to be the better brother. That's not what they're calling the competition, but they won't lose.

Duke is confused why every time he hangs out with Tim he gets glares from both Jason and Damian. Fearing that the two might be returning to their fatricidial ways, Duke sticks around Tim even more. Tim, clueless to Duke's reasoning, is happy that someone wants to spend time with him and chat about Tim's gadget upgrades.

Jason and Damian become even more aggressively affectionate after this.

Tim, confused as hell why the two brothers that hate him are suddenly hanging around him more, starts implementing his previous routines. He starts scanning all his food, checks his room for traps, ensures his equipment isn't tampered, and tries to avoid the Manor. The fact that his checks aren't revealing anything freak him out even more.

He doesn't know what their end game is, but there's no reason Damian is asking Tim about his photography techniques and Jason is handing Tim home-cooked goods.

Dick, the master emotional manipulator of the family, uses the chaos to mend his relationship with Tim. He also pats himself on the back for tricking Jason and Damian into putting the work in for finding common grounds with their estranged brother.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #dc robin #batman #jason todd #dc red robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #dc signal #dc nightwing #dc red hood #jason and damian still haven't verbally apologized so Tim doesn't know they don't hate him #they are all idiots your honor

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sprout-fics · 8 months

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No no you don't understand.

I need. I need these boys to decide that having four separate residences is far too much of a hassle when they're all involved in a committed relationship with each other and with you. The constant shuffling from flat to flat to Price's too small house with the tiny garden isn't enough. I need them to spend weeks looking at finances and listings and finally settling on a huge, neglected property in the countryside surrounded by farmland and walking lanes.

I need them to show up to this place and seeing the shutters hanging by a single nail, cobwebs collecting in corners and overgrown hedges leading up to the house. I need them to roll up their sleeves and set to putting the place to rights with enthusiasm turned frustration turned delight as they work.

Soap gleefully knocks down walls, Simon keeps Gaz from falling off the roof by catching his pant leg while they mend the singles, Price stands in the garage and tries to figure out the lawnmower that may be older than them all. You focus on logistics of ordering furniture, feel the boys pass by behind you and point out things they like and dislike, squabble over details like gaming systems and couches. They enlist your help in cleaning the chimney, and you laugh when you end up covered in soot.

The plumbing systems are upgraded, new windows are installed, you pick out some fancy lighting fixtures that Simon nearly drops while putting them up. You help Price put down new wood floors, and rub his shoulders while you take a break in the afternoon sunshine. You and Gaz travel to the furniture store about an hour away still covered in paint from trying swatches for your bedroom, and end up needing to come back for a second trip to buy all the linens and towels you all could possibly need (they're on sale)

The boys watch on with exhaustion and pride as you command the movers to place the new dining table and bed frames where they need to go, and they grumble when you turn to them expectantly to do the rest of the work. Gaz gets out of it by offering to make you all a home cooked meal, and you all slouch around your new tables with full bellies and warm hearts.

You get dirt under your fingernails as you plant violets by the front gate, and Simon takes you by the back door to show you a vixen and her two kits playing just beyond the fence. You await Price's return from the recycling center eagerly to show him the finished tile in the bathroom, your cheek flecked with caulk. You watch his smile, hear Soap's delighted laughter from the attic as he discovers an aged, unopened bottle of scotch left by the previous owners.

It takes weeks, months for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all you're exhausted. When the mailbox is fixed at last, you all look to each other as if to say 'Is this it? Is this everything?' and try to remember the things you forgot. There are none.

Price makes you all a pot roast that night, and you and Gaz set to making enough sides to feed a small army. It's the best meal you've ever had. After, when the dishes are done and drying, Soap puts on a movie that you all watch with bleary eyes. You fall asleep against Simon's shoulder, sharing a blanket with Gaz. The fireplace flickers warmly. The movie fades to a distant murmur. You hear Price say something clever, hear Soap snort as you drift off.

You're home.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #x reader #musings #Daydream domesticity fantasy au

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multifandomfanatic02 · 17 days

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"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #the radio demon #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbinhotel #alastor imagine #alastor #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction

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cherrychilli · 2 months

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18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex

a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.

You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.

He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.

"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.

"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.

He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.

From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.

The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.

Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.

While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.

Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.

Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.

You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.

The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.

"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.

The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.

You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.

You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.

He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.

It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.

The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.

"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.

You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.

"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.

"And she's all dressed up just for me"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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staratie · 7 months

Text

straw hats giving you flowers

sfw, spin-off ending of the silent treatment, used this website for flower meanings summary: the silent treatment lasted longer than either of you expected. after docking at a village harbor, your pirate goes to the village floral shop to fix it.

“how badly did you piss ‘em off?” the florist asks. “bad.” he sighs. “flowers aren't just flowers. each one has meaning. let me help you find the perfect one...”

Zoro - daisy (loyal love)

It is a simple flower, but had a lot of meeting.

Zoro is loyal to the crew and Luffy when it comes to friendship. You, on the other hand, are different. Of course he loves you, not as a friend, but something more.

He’d never admit it, but he was hoping his apology flower would help you understand his feelings.

“Look, I'm sorry.” He says, caving in. “Here's a flower. I miss talking to you.”

Sanji - purple hyacinth (please forgive me)

Sanji didn’t need help when it came to finding the perfect bouquet for you. The man knew almost everything about romance, so when the florist offered their services, he politely declined.

After having the florist wrap the hyacinths in pretty paper, he marched to you, gently grabbed your hand, and presented the purple bouquet.

“These are for you.” He said confidently. He cleared his hands once you were holding the flowers and added, “forgive me. I caused you distress which you didn’t deserve. I’ll do whatever I can in my power to mend what I tore.”

Taking a risk, he kissed your forehead and smiled, noticing that you didn’t pull back.

Luffy - red roses (love)

You not talking to him was no joke. Luffy understood that the crew members needed their own space, but you totally ignoring him got him upset.

He didn’t mean to say those words. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you.

Luffy loved you, and decided to be (very) straightforward to you by buying the flowers of love.

When the guy presented you the roses, and playfully pushed them into your arms, he said, “I was mean. I hate seeing you like this and I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but give him a one-armed hug and whisper that you forgive him.

Usopp - daffodils - (the sun is always shining when i'm with you)

Kaya gave him advice when it came to relationships, mainly because she wanted him to be prepared for one in case they didn’t work out or if got serious.

Usopp was thankful for her advice because it helped him and you sort out arguments and “oppsyy” moments.

After buying you the yellow flowers, he held them behind his back as he walked to you. When you two were face to face, he looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry.” He wanted to be a little extra so he continued, “you are the sunshine in my sky, which is me. I’m the sky. Without you, I’m sad and boring.”

It was ridiculous but thoughtful. You gave him a soft kiss on his lips and forgive him. “My sun’s back!” He calls out with glee.

#one piece #one piece live action #roronoa zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #one piece headcanons #usopp x reader #luffy headcanons #usopp headcanons #vinsmoke sanji headcanons #sanji headcanons #roronoa zoro headcanons #zoro headcanons #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy headcanons

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months

Text

Sparring Matches

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.

Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist

The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.

“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.

“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.

“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.

Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”

“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.

“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.

“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”

“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.

“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”

Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.

Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.

“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”

Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.

Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.

“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.

“So do you know who will be fighting who?”

“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”

“You and I will spar?”

“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”

“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”

“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.

That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.

After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.

He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”

JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.

“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.

Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.

“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.

“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.

“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.

Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.

Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.

Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”

Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.

Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.

Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.

Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.

The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.

“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.

“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.

At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.

“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.

“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”

Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.

Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”

“By sleeping?”

“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”

By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.

While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.

Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.

And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.

“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.

With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.

The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.

Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.

“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.

“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.

On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”

Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.

On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.

The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”

“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.

“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”

“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.

“I hadn’t hung up yet.”

“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.

Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.

“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.

“Okay, I’ll-”

“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.

“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.

“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.

“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.

“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”

“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”

“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.

“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.

“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.

Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”

Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.

The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.

“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.

“When did you know?” Aaron asked.

“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.

Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.

Masterlist

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader

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staliaqueen · 13 days

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I rewatched The Avatar and the Fire Lord a few days ago, and god, what a good episode. Revealing that Zuko is a descendant of both Sozin and Roku was a genius move (and that's not even getting into the Zuko/Aang parallels of it all). But there's something the show doesn't seem to think of, and that I haven't seen anyone in the fandom discuss either — the fact that Zuko isn't the only one descendant from both these men. Azula is, too.

The conclusion of this story that Iroh presents to Zuko at the end of the episode is that he alone — because of his lineage from both men the war was started from — is uniquely capable of cleansing the sins of his family and the fire nation and bringing peace to the world. But, the thing is, there's two sides of this conflict, and therefor two sides to its legacy. The external and the personal. The legacy of the external is the war, but the legacy of the personal is the sibling rivalries that kept repeating through generations of the royal family.

Though Roku and Sozin were not actually related, they were childhood friends as close as siblings and fucking shared a birthday, so the symbolism works. We know very little about Azulon's childhood or if he even had any direct sibling rivalries like this at all, but from what I can find on his wiki page, we know that Sozin favoured him over "other family" (I'm assuming his siblings). What we know very well, however, is what happened in the next generation between Iroh and Ozai. We know Azulon favoured Iroh over Ozai, and that this likely is the initial source of their hatred for each other, which resulted in perhaps the worst sibling rivalry of them all (what with the indirect patricide and throne stealing).

Then we go on to Zuko and Azula, whose upbringing kept going in the same patterns, but the key difference is them being the first ones to both be descendant from the men who started it all. If Zuko having this lineage makes him uniquely capable of ending the cycle of war in his country and restoring balance to the world, shouldn't that mean that both he and Azula having this lineage makes them uniquely capable of ending the cycle of brutal sibling rivalries and restoring balance to their family?

This conclusion I've presented seems to fit perfectly with the lesson Aang draws from the same story as well:

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves that anyone's capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance."

I know this is supposed to be foreshadowing to Aang refusing to kill Ozai later, but I can't help but think it's even more applicable to fourteen year old Azula. It's really so ironic that the show runners thought Azula deserved what she got when their own show seems to be telling them that Zuko mending his relationship with her is what he ultimately should've done.

But, then again... that does sort of make her the perfect tragedy.

#meta #azula #princess azula #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar meta #avatar the last airbender meta #atla meta #uncle iroh #fire lord ozai #fire lord azulon #fire lord sozin #avatar roku #i LOVE tragic siblings have i mentioned this before?#also can't wait for this either to get 0 notes or invite a bunch of brain dead angry replies #it's pretty much either or for me in this fandom

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amaranthineghost · 5 months

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ LANDO NORRIS ☆ MASTERLIST

HOME IS WHERE HE IS—FLUFF

you don't want him to go (first person)

SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR—FLUFF, ANGST

her love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity (third person)

EVERY GODDAMN INCH OF YOUR SKIN IS MINE—SMUT, ANGST

he can't stand her, but he can't keep his eyes off her (third person)

DARLING, THE BED IS COLDER WITHOUT YOU—FLUFF, ANGST

she feels lonely without the company of lando (third person)

OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS—FLUFF, ANGST

they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life (third person)

I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW—ANGST, FLUFF

feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her (third person)

DARLING, OUR STARS ARE DYING, BUT WE'VE STILL GOT YEARS TO BURN—ANGST

their relationship is dying while their love burns strong, yet they're unsure if they can save themselves (third person)

I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU. I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS—ANGST, SMUT

they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work (third person)

MATCHING PAJAMA PANTS AND LATE NIGHTS—FLUFF

how lando spends the holiday season with his girlfriend (third person)

HE'S TOUCHING MY BODY LIKE MY SKIN IS STICKY, HE'S GLUED TO ME—SMUT, ANGST

lando and his girlfriend try special chocolate and make it a competition to see who will lose first, and he's struggling to resist the urge to touch her (third person)

CRAWLIN' BACK TO YOU—SMUT, ANGST

their love is toxic, but they keep coming back even when they know they shouldn’t (third person)

BUT I LOVE SO YOU (PLEASE LET ME GO)—ANGST

he loved her, but knew he had to let her go even if it killed him inside. still he left a paper trail back to him (third person)

I'LL LET YOU GO IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT—ANGST

a little over half a year later when the season ended, they haven't found their way back. At least not on purpose, but the universe knows better than them (third person)

OOPS?—FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT (coming soon)

to commemorate the sight in front of him, he snaps a picture on his phone without realizing he's just posted it for millions to see (third person).

#formula 1 #formula 1 drivers #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando #lando norris #charles leclerc imagine #logan sargeant fic #lando norris fic #charles leclerc

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merbear25 · 2 months

Text

Long awaited rest

The sheets had been rustled from your aggitated turning; their coolness long since faded under your body heat. As the moon changed its position in the sky, you refrained from checking the time—that would only make the sought after rest more unattainable. Lying on your back, you wondered how much longer it'd be until he joined you.

Sanji, Zoro, Corazon

CW: SFW, fluff, established relationship, gn!reader

Sanji: He'd been up late trying to perfect a new recipe he'd been on the brink of completing. After success had finally graced him, the clock taunted him with the amount hours of his life he'd spent. His eyes were droopy, dark circles were teasing his soft glow: the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

Stumbling into your shared room, his body practically gave way, letting itself flop down next to you. With him face down, his breaths were drawn out as his body was swallowed by the much needed comfort.

You curled up next to him, letting your finger tips trace up and down his back. He didn't stir: only a twitch at the side of his mouth indicated his knowledge of your gentleness. A hushed groan came from him as he rolled his body against your hand, unaware of how much he'd been desperate for your affection.

You rubbed his back being mindful not to massage too deeply and wake him. Leaving light kisses on his shoulder, cheek and forehead, your heart warmed at his dreamlike gratitude, affectionately murmuring about how much he loved you.

Snuggling up to him, you only kept a light hand on his arm, giving room for tosses or turns that may ensue. With him finding his way back to your side, your body was able to dose off, as well.

When the light of the new day shined into your room, its soft rays were casted on the both of you: curled up in each other's embrace and still fast asleep.

Zoro: Having come dangerously close to losing his previous battle, iradicating the imperfections that'd rusted his techniques was a must. Getting lost in his self-analyzation, losing track of time: consequences that were both small prices to pay for growth. However, his body was telling him that its limits had been reached and sleep was inevitable.

Exasperated from the unavoidable limitations, he let up for the night and shuffled off to bed. When opening the door, he noticed you were still awake, despite you not even turning to face him. There was a notable difference between the calmness of your sleeping person when compared to a simply relaxed state—the way your chest rose and fell was a dead giveaway.

Crawling in next to you, he asked why you were still awake. Turning over to face him, you admitted that some nights were just harder to fall alseep without him than others.

Taking a moment to think to himself, he scooched closer you. He patted his chest, signaling for you to lay your head upon it, to which of course you were more than happy to oblige.

Hearing his heartbeat soothed parts you didn't realize needed mending. The tranquility of your embrace offered its services, easing your tired bodies to sleep.

He was the first to wake the following morning: you were still sound asleep against his chest, your hair was ruffled ever so slightly. The peace shown on your face charmed him into placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Corazon: There was still so much to do, yet never enough time to do it. The stress and anxiety of the encounters to come weren't eating away at him though; he was resilient and determined to complete his purpose. That being said, even the heros who work within the shadows need their sleep.

Trying his best not to disturb you, he attempted to ease the door open. You were always sweet, but when you slept, you had a certain tenderness to you, one which alleviated all the woes weighing on his heart.

Getting into bed, he couldn't ignore his need to hold you. When you felt his arm drapping over you, you looked up at him and asked if everything was alright.

Kissing your temple, he assured you that everything was fine, while adding in an apology to having woken you up. Hearing this, you informed that you hadn't been able to sleep.

Cozying up closer to you, he ran his thumb over the top of your hand and asked the reason for it. Fearing you might add to his already worried mind, you simply answered that it was just one of those nights.

You stayed awake for a little while longer, talking to each other, barely above a whisper until you slipped into your dreams.

You were the first to wake up to the dawn of the new day. He had shifted onto his back and was still in a deep sleep. Wanting to enjoy the early morning by his side, you hung your arm over his and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, kissing the top of his shoulder.

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bumblesimagines · 6 months

Note

this is just flirting. this will always be just flirting.

that's not what you used to say.

Maddy Perez

this is just flirting. this will always be just flirting.

that's not what you used to say.

pronouns: he/him, m!reader

Madeleine Perez had always been a force to be reckoned with. From an early age, she'd always been certain of herself and it shone through her confidence. She was the pretty popular girl with equally pretty popular friends. The cheerleader who dated the star quarterback. The girl who got everything she wanted one way or another.

Or, well, she had almost everything she wanted.

(Y/N) Daley. She'd barely given him a single thought growing up. He'd always been in the background, just another classmate and neighbor who blended in and stayed out of the more popular friend circles. Then, he changed from classmate to project buddy and it blossomed from there.

Maddy loved the attention. She loved the knowledge that she was wanted by others. Nate bruised her ego, he always did eventually, but it'd mend when she locked lips with some random guy who looked at her as if she were an angel that walked the Earth. Guys chased after her with hopes of getting with one of the prettiest girls in school and in hopes of finally one-upping Nate Jacobs. (Y/N) had been one of those guys. His head would turn when she walked by. He'd perk up when she spoke to him. He allowed her to dance around the subject of a relationship. He took the shoulder checks from Nate Jacobs when his friendship with her became known. And then, that disappeared, suddenly and abruptly the attention she had grown to desire and look forward to vanished.

Not knowing knawed away at her like an anxiety she'd never experienced before. Nate always made her feel small during their fights, made her feel like a lost child looking for their home. He always made her worry, always ran circles in her mind each night. But this time, it'd been (Y/N) fucking Daley doing all those things. It hadn't been until Cassie, confused and concerned at her side, asked a simple yet heart-stopping question.

"Maddy, do... do you think you love him?" She'd asked, voice soft and delicate as she ran her fingers through Maddy's raven locks. Maddy's body had stiffened, her whole body tensing at the mere mention of love. It had made Cassie backtrack and switch topics, but the question weighed heavy on her mind. She loved Nate. Or, she thought she did at least. He was everything she needed. Well-off, popular, good family, good future. She'd never have to work a day in her life with him, just as she always wanted. But did she actually want Nate or did she desire the life he could provide her?

Maddy couldn't concentrate, even with a bottle of cheap beer in one hand and BB's vape in the other. She stared at the swarm of teenagers grinding and dancing together, drunken voices singing along to a generic song playing over the speakers. Her nail clinked against the brown glass, a slow rhythm as her hawk eyes searched for his familiar face. Cassie stood at her side, phone in hand and her bright screen illuminating her face as she frantically typed. Likely another fight with McKay. Kat stood at her other side, her phone also in hand but awaiting a message. Finally, her phone vibrated.

"Okay, Ethan says they're he-" Maddy passed the beer and vape off to a barely conscious BB and walked forward, those with sober minds immediately stepping out of the way for her. She slipped around the tipsy and drunk ones, calling out sharp 'excuse me's and 'move's until she reached the less crowded front door and watched with bated breath. It creaked open and Ethan stepped through with his phone clutched tightly to his chest. His brother followed with his phone in hand as well, his brows dipped and eyes focused on the screen in deep concentration.

"Hey, Maddy." Ethan greeted, trying to sound casual but the high-pitched end to his greeting failed him. She plastered a fake smile for him and motioned over her shoulder in the direction of Kat, watching him nod in thanks and disappear into the crowd. (Y/N) lifted his head and dragged his eyes away from his phone at Ethan's movements, lips jutting out in slight offense at his brother's abandonment. His head tilted in her direction and they locked eyes, prompting her to glide over to him.

"Why do I feel like you're avoiding me?" She asked, arching one brow and folding her arms over her chest. She'd chosen a good dress, the dress that always drew eyes to her wherever she went. (Y/N)'s eyes, however, remained on her face and his casual shrug made her skin prickle. Her arms fell to her sides and she groaned, catching his arm and pulling him down a lonely hallway. He grunted quietly but otherwise didn't protest.

It was foreign territory. Maddy Perez wasn't one to beg or chase or be tripped up over a guy. No, she was the one who turned the other cheek and moved on to the next prize that would have Nate doing all those things for her. Yet, there she was, standing in the middle of a dimly lit hallway because a guy- her crush- had decided to ignore her. How the mighty fall.

"Why are you so worked up, Mads? We're... classmates who occasionally flirt. This is just flirting. This will always be just flirting."

"That's not what you used to say."

"No, it's what you used to say." She blinked, and then her heart sank into the pits of her stomach. "Why would I waste my time when you're always going to go back to Nate? I'm the rebound, remember? The guy you to go when Nate leaves and then ditch when he comes back. I'm not mad about it, Mads. I'm just treating you how you've always treated me."

"I-"

"And I prefer it this way."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria x male reader #euphoria x you #euphoria x y/n #maddy perez #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x y/n #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x male reader #cassie howard #kat hernandez #ethan daley #nate jacobs

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delusionalfanficwriter · 1 month

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forgive me

My heart pounded in my chest as I turned the key in the lock, the anticipation of finally being home after what felt like an eternity abroad making my hands tremble. I had missed Leah desperately during my time away, longing for her comforting presence after I missed the possibly winning penalty for the USWNT. But now, as I stepped inside our apartment, that longing turned to dread.

The soft glow of lamplight illuminated the living room, casting eerie shadows against the walls. And there, on the couch, lay Leah, wrapped in the arms of another woman. My stomach dropped as the scene before me registered, the shock and disbelief hitting me like a tidal wave.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers, to tear apart the fabric of reality until this nightmare dissolved into nothingness. But all I could do was stand there, frozen in place, my heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

Leah's eyes met mine, a fleeting expression of surprise and guilt flickering across her features before she spoke. "Y/n, I can explain," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

She quickly got up from the couch in her panties and long t-shirt while the other woman I did not recognize gathered her belongings and ran out without hesitation.

I didn’t respond and as Leah took another step towards me, I took one back, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Say something, y/n. Please. I know I fucked up, but I can explain.”

I block out her words and just stare at her, tears filling my eyes as my heart breaks every second I stand there. I take a shaky breath before saying, “I am going to pack a bag and go.” She goes to argue but I shake my head and interrupt, “Leah, you need to let me go.”

Leah's face crumpled in anguish as my words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them pressing down on us both like a suffocating blanket. She reached out to me, her hands trembling with desperation, but I recoiled from her touch, unable to bear the thought of her hands on me after what I had just witnessed.

"No," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "Please, y/n, don't do this. I love you, I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

Her words cut through me like a knife, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal. I wanted to believe her, wanted to cling to the illusion of love and happiness we had shared, but the reality of her betrayal loomed large in the space between us, an insurmountable barrier that threatened to swallow us whole.

"I can't do this anymore, Leah," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "You've hurt me in ways I never thought possible. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you."

Leah's eyes brimmed with tears as she reached out to me again, her desperation palpable in the air. She knew how hard I worked in my self-confidence but this just took the biggest blow to it. "Don’t for a second think you are not enough, y/n. I’m the problem. Please, y/n, give me another chance. I'll do anything to make this right, anything to prove to you that I love you."

But I shook my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. "It's too late for that, Leah. You've broken my trust. I can't just forgive and forget."

I ignore her as she begs for forgiveness while I head to our room to grab a few extra items as I already have a suitcase filled because of my trip with the national team.

As I hastily packed my belongings, Leah's pleas echoed in my mind, each word a painful reminder of the love we once shared.

Leah followed me into the bedroom, her footsteps hesitant as if she were treading on thin ice. "Please, y/n," she implored, her voice choked with tears. "Don't leave like this. We can work through this together, I promise."

Her words stirred a flicker of doubt within me, a small voice whispering that perhaps forgiveness was possible. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw not just remorse, but a deeper struggle, a fundamental flaw in our relationship that could not be easily mended.

"I need some space, Leah," I said, my voice firm despite the tremors of uncertainty coursing through me. "I need time to figure things out on my own."

Leah's shoulders slumped in defeat, her gaze falling to the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of my racing heart. With a heavy heart, I zipped up my bag. As I made my way to the door, Leah's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Y/n, wait," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. "Just know that I'll always love you, no matter what."

I let the tears I have been holding back drop silently as I look her in her eyes one more time. I love her so much but obviously I am not providing enough if she’s seeking more elsewhere.

I get into my car and drive around aimlessly before arriving at Katie McCabe's place, seeking refuge in the familiarity of her warm embrace, she immediately sensed something was amiss. Concern etched across her features as she ushered me inside, her voice laced with worry.

"Y/n, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Katie exclaimed, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of explanation.

I managed a weak smile, attempting to mask the turmoil raging within me. "It's nothing, Katie. Just... a rough day."

But Katie wasn't easily fooled. She took my hand gently, her touch grounding me amidst the chaos of my emotions. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what."

I hesitated, the weight of my unspoken truth threatening to suffocate me. But as I looked into Katie's compassionate gaze, I knew I couldn't bear to burden her with the tangled mess of my heartache.

"It's complicated," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't want to talk about it."

Katie's brow furrowed in concern, her instincts urging her to push further. "Is it Leah?" she asked softly, her words hanging heavy in the air.

I flinched at the mention of her name, the pain of betrayal still fresh in my mind. But I couldn't bring myself to tarnish Leah's name, not when the love I once felt for her still lingered like a ghost in the recesses of my heart.

"I can't," I choked out, tears threatening to spill over. "I can't do that to her. I still love her, Katie. I can't bear the thought of anyone hating her."

Katie's expression softened with understanding as she wrapped me in a comforting embrace, her presence a soothing balm to my shattered soul. "You don't have to say anything you're not ready to, y/n," she murmured, her words a whispered promise of unwavering support.

…………. ……….. ………… ………….

As the days passed, life seemed to go on as usual. I returned to my routine, throwing myself into training with the Arsenal team, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Despite my efforts to appear unaffected, the tension between Leah and me was palpable, a silent rift that threatened to tear us apart.

At practice, the atmosphere was strained, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. My teammates exchanged knowing glances, their curiosity piqued by the unspoken tension between Leah and me.

Leah, ever persistent, continued to plead for forgiveness, her desperation evident in every fleeting glance and tentative touch. But I remained steadfast in my resolve, refusing to entertain the possibility of reconciliation until I had fully come to terms with the betrayal that had shattered my trust.

As we gathered on the field, preparing for another grueling session, Leah approached me tentatively, her eyes brimming with remorse. "Y/n, please," she whispered, her voice pleading. "We need to talk. I can't bear this distance between us any longer."

I shook my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. "Not now, Leah," I replied, my voice firm despite the turmoil raging within me. "I need time to process everything that's happened."

“Please, y/n. I can see you training extra hard just to avoid thinking about this. Please, I don't want to see you hurting.”

“You did that, amore. You hurt me. I knew I wasn’t enough and you reassured me countless times I was. I was stupid to believe you… that I was enough for you.” I whisper before walking away.

“Y/n, wait! At least tell me why no one else knows? I was expected to get some lash back from the gals.” She grabs my arm before I face her once more.

“Despite all you have done, and might think, I still love you.”

As Leah and I stood on the training field in our emotional exchange, a voice interrupted from the sidelines, cutting through the weighty atmosphere with unexpected levity.

"Well, whatever Leah did, it must be forgivable if she's still alive," came a joking remark from one of our teammates, interrupting the solemn moment with a touch of humor.

I turned to see Alessia smirking playfully as she approached us, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Despite the seriousness of the situation, her lighthearted comment momentarily lifted the heaviness that had settled over us.

"Seriously, y/n," Alessia continued, nudging me gently with her elbow. "You must be a saint to consider forgiving whatever she did. I mean, I can barely forgive her for stealing my snacks, let alone whatever this is."

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips, the tension easing slightly under the unexpected reprieve of humor. "Trust me, Alessia," I replied, my tone light despite the lingering ache in my heart. "It's going to take a lot more than snacks to make things right."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #uswnt fanfic #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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freyito · 7 months

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ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ + ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ-ꜱᴛᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

this ones super self-indulgent, simply cause im in a bit of a mood and i need comfort. so why not write little drabbles with my HUSBANDS!!!! sorry im still working on requests! my schedule is packed and thursdays are about the only days i get to myself, so im working on them, i swear!!!

for more context, there's a couple different ways people can be touch-starved and how people react. i know some people seek out touch actively, but im one of the people who has an aversion to it. that's why it's written like the reader doesn't quite enjoy it!

also, this was kind of inspired by Kocham Wolność by Chłopcy z Placu Broni

cw: male reader, just fluff really, bonus, proofread

-Johnny Cage

Johnny's flashy, touchy, and over-the-top. Of course he is, he has to be. With his status, he wants everyone to know exactly who you are and show you off. You're all his, and only his, and he needs every single one of his fans to know.

So when you shy away from his touch, dodge away from his hand, or even keep your distance the very first time, his heart shatters. He doesn't quite know how to handle it. But he doesn't go with the same approach. He doesn't give up, either.

He's a sucker for physical touch, and if he's denied it, he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He quite literally looks down at them and wonders what he can do.

His first thought is that you dislike him, actually. That you hate him. He has a deep-seated fear of rejection, and for his beloved to turn away from his warmth and love, it stings. He overthinks, and he reacts as such.

Johnny is a 50/50 with being logical. It depends where he is and what environment he is in. However, with love, where he is completely and utterly vulnerable, giving his all to his boyfriend, logic does not take place with his emotions. He does not think that you do not seek the touch he seeks, he craves.

But, before he can let that vile, horrid, agonizing feeling in the back of his throat take hold, there's slight reassurance. A soft gaze that mends his broken heart, if only for a moment. That's when he finally rationalizes.

You don't even need to tell him at that point, he silently understands. Besides, he has other ways he can show his love for you. Spoils you rotten, tells you all he loves about you. See, he can find ways to make up for the lack of physical touch!

Johnny makes sure to ask you before any physical encounter. He asks to hold your hand, asks to hug you, asks to hold you, asks everything. And each time you say yes, he has the biggest grin on his face.

One night, while you two were sitting on the hood of Johnny's car by some cliff,- like those stupid romantic scenes in movies- you lean over to Johnny and rest your head on his shoulder. Your arms are touching, his shoulder provides a comfortable pillow. You feel safe. Gazing at the very few stars scattered in the sky, the night sky's beauty stolen by the city below (and by you, Johnny says). Johnny's beaming. He's trying so hard not to show it, he's trying to act cool. But he can't. He's almost vibrating because of the butterflies in his stomach. He's proud of you, he's in love with you, and god, he's so happy. He leans his head on yours, and whisper all sorts of sweet things, 'I love you', 'You mean so much to me', 'You're the most beautiful man I know', and 'Thank you'.

-Kenshi Takahashi

Since Kenshi focuses on touch mainly in the relationship, he has to re-evaluate how he goes about this without touch. He doesn't start off with it, like Johnny does. But he slowly builds up to it. And when he tries to place a hand on your shoulder, feeling you completely dodge him almost feels humbling.

He's at a loss. But unlike Johnny, his first thought is the right one. Perhaps you aren't ready, you aren't comfortable. And that's okay. He's going to think of different ways to seek out your affection, even though physical touch is the only way he really understands love.

But, he also understands. He knows what it's like to dislike touch, after years of hollow touch and forced affection. And he understands if you just don't trust him enough, he's empathetic.

He'll wait for you, however long it takes. He isn't afraid to admit it's a bit disheartening, but he understands and he loves you and he will always wait for you. He still cherishes your time together, and it isn't spoiled one bit. Besides, he can tell you just how much he adores you. He doesn't have to rely on touch every time.

Like Johnny, he will always ask. But he does prefer that you make the first move, at that point. Any little touch, he also cherishes. Even if it's your hand accidentally brushing against his while walking. You always catch a small smile from him when that happens.

He's happy as is, really. The lack of physical touch doesn't take away anything from the relationship or from you. Simply basking in your presence is enough for you. He adores you, and he knows you're his as much as he's yours. That understanding is really the only thing he craves in the relationship.

He relishes in every little touch you give him, however. Simply holding hands is the most intimate thing to him. He isn't big on PDA, but he loves holding your hand anywhere in public. Even if Sento offers slight guidance to him, he loves knowing you're there to guide him.

The night you finally initiated contact, he fell deeper in love with you. It was quiet, alone, still. In your room, you lay next to him, simply enjoying the pleasures of the mundane. You reach for his hand, and gently trace the ink on his hands. He's calm, collected, but inside burns a fire so bright, that you can feel his body temperature rise. He slowly turns his hand, opening his palm to you. For a moment, your fingers linger, tracing the creases in his hand, before finally intertwining your fingers with his. He turns his head to you, a soft and inviting small on his face. He breaks the silence, whispering an 'I love you, so much', before the silence lay over you two once more.

-Bonus! Johnny Cage AND Kenshi Takahashi

They both agree not to smother you and take their time with you and your comfort. Since most dates and activities will always center around all three of you, they're specifically gentle with you, and are rather hands off with both you and each other (as hard as that is for them).

Just because they are comfortable with each other and each other's touch, doesn't mean they are going to flaunt it. Kenshi believes the ideal is to slowly incorporate you into events. To suffocate you with the idea of touch is too much.

And they do just that. Johnny follows Kenshi's lead, really. Neither of them can live without your touch, and the idea of turning you away is a mutual fear.

When you found yourself between Kenshi and Johnny, simply "watching" a movie from Johnny Dearest, you ended up placing your head in Kenshi's lap, and your legs in Johnny's. You were tired, that was all. Just so happens you had the most comfortable men to lay on. Johnny gave Kenshi the most bewildered look, before realizing the man was still blind. But regardless, Kenshi almost shared the sentiment. However, Kenshi didn't waste his chance. He places his hand on your head, scratching at your scalp. While Johnny just revels in the fact that you've finally warmed up to them.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x male reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x male reader #johny cage x reader x kenshi takahashi

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mtmpossession · 4 months

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A New Perspective: Part I

The sun had just set over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the rolling hills of the family farm in Texas. Douglas, a sturdy man in his early fifties, stood outside the old barn, gazing out at the fields with a mixture of pride and weariness. He was a homespun man, with a short beard that highlighted the strength of his jawline. His broad shoulders were testament to a lifetime of hard work, both as a fire protection specialist and as a farmer.

Joseph, on the other hand, was a young man in his late twenties, with an athletic build and lean muscles that were honed from years of working out and modeling. He was dressed impeccably in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, his brown hair styled to perfection. His stubble, however, betrayed the fact that he hadn't shaved in a few days. Joseph was an adventurer, always eager to explore the world and experience new things. He was bisexual, something he had confessed to his father years ago, which had only served to further strain their already tenuous relationship.

As Joseph stepped out of the car and approached his father, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. They had barely spoken in over a year, and now they were meeting under such tense circumstances. Douglas's disapproval of Joseph's lifestyle choice, coupled with his father's insistence that he abandon his modeling career and join the family business, had only served to drive them further apart.

Douglas, on the other hand, was filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. He loved his son dearly, but he couldn't help but feel that Joseph was wasting his life chasing after meaningless fame and fortune. He wanted Joseph to embrace their family's blue-collar roots and work alongside him at the fire protection business and on the farm.

"Hello, Joseph," Douglas said, his tone formal and distant. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Dad," Joseph replied, his voice equally guarded. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt as he looked at his father. The last time they had seen each other, they had argued heatedly about Joseph's life choices. He wished things could be different, but it seemed like their relationship was beyond repair.

The two men stood in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say. The tension was palpable. Douglas cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. "Well, I should get started on dinner," he said finally. "Why don't you come inside and help me?"

Joseph hesitated, uncertain whether his father meant it as an invitation to mend fences or just a request for assistance. After a moment's consideration, he decided to accept the offer. "Sure," he said, following his father into the house. The kitchen was warm and welcoming, with a large wooden table and cozy decorations that spoke of years of family gatherings.

As they worked side by side, chopping vegetables and seasoning meat, the silence between them seemed less oppressive. Douglas glanced at his son out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way he moved with confidence and ease. It was hard for Douglas to believe that this was the same boy who had once been so uncertain of himself. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, despite the tension that still lingered between them.

Meanwhile, Joseph found himself thinking about the years they had spent apart. He remembered the days when they would work together on the farm, laughing and sharing stories. He wondered if they could ever find a way back to that place of mutual understanding and respect.

As they ate their dinner, they continued to engage in small talk, discussing the latest sports news and local politics. It was a far cry from their previous arguments about Joseph's career choices, and Douglas found himself enjoying the easy banter between them. He couldn't help but notice how well his son looked, dressed in his crisp white shirt and jeans. There was a confidence about him that hadn't been there before.

Joseph, too, was relieved to be able to talk about something other than the elephant in the room. He had missed his father's company and the sense of belonging that came with being part of this family. He knew that they had differences, but he hoped that they could find some common ground.

As the evening wore on, however, their conversation began to take a familiar turn. Douglas started to question Joseph's choices once again, and Joseph found himself growing defensive. Before they knew it, they were once again arguing heatedly. "You never understood me, Dad," Joseph exclaimed, his voice rising. "You just want me to be this version of yourself, but I'm not you!"

Douglas's face flushed with anger. "Of course I understand you, Joseph! I just want you to have a stable future, one that doesn't involve chasing after fleeting fame and fortune!" he retorted. "You could be doing so much more with your life than strutting around in front of cameras!"

Joseph felt a stab of pain as his father spoke. He knew that Douglas meant well, but he couldn't help feeling like he was being suffocated by his father's expectations. "You don't get it, Dad," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm not you. I don't want your life. I want my own."

Douglas looked away, unable to meet his son's eyes. He knew that he had been harsh, but he couldn't help feeling a desperate need to protect Joseph from what he saw as a reckless path. He wished he could understand why Joseph was so determined to pursue a career in modeling, when there were so many other options available to him.

Joseph retreated to his room, feeling a familiar mix of anger, frustration, and sadness. He knew that he and his father had always been different, but he had hoped that they could find some common ground. Instead, they seemed to be further apart than ever. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of his father and their strained relationship.

Douglas, too, lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't shake the image of Joseph's face as he had argued with him. He knew that he had been harsh, but he couldn't help feeling a desperate need to protect his son from what he saw as a reckless path. He wished he could understand why Joseph was so determined to pursue a career in modeling, when there were so many other options available to him.

As the hours ticked by, Douglas found himself growing more and more restless. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to step into Joseph's shoes, even for just a day. To experience the world through his son's eyes, to understand the motivations that drove him. Perhaps then, he thought, he could find a way to bridge the gap between them.

Joseph, on the other hand, spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning in bed. He couldn't shake the image of his father's disappointment and the weight of their strained relationship. He felt as though they were speaking two different languages. Perhaps if he could understand where his father was coming from, they could find a way to reach a common ground.

After they fall asleep, a sudden thunder storm arises. Lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating the room in brief flashes of blue and white. The wind howls, battering the windows and causing the house to creak and groan. In the midst of the storm, there is a strange, inexplicable feeling in the air. As if the universe itself is conspiring to bring about a change.

The next morning, Joseph awakens with a start. He feels... different. His body is heavier, his movements slower. As he sits up in bed, he realizes with a jolt that he is no longer in his own body. He is in his father's body!

Douglas, too, wakes up with a start. He feels... light, almost ethereal. His movements are quick and graceful. As he swings his legs over the side of the bed, he realizes with a gasp that he is not in his own body. He is in Joseph's body!

He rushes over to the mirror, hardly able to believe what he sees. The face that stares back at him is not his own. It is young, vibrant, and unmistakably his son's. He touches his cheek, feeling the smoothness of his skin, and then runs his fingers through his silky hair. This is a dream, he tells himself, but it feels so real.

As he steps out of his room, he sees Joseph standing in the hallway, looking equally confused. His father's body feels strange, yet familiar. He tries to speak, but no words come out. He gestures for his father to follow him, and they proceed to the kitchen.

To be continued...

#male possession #male tf #male body swap #gay possession #bodyswapper #body switch #body swap #body possession #jock #male transformation #male takeover #possession #dad and son

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