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luveline · 6 months

Note

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning.

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly.

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt.

You'd like to keep it that way.

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour.

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again.

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return.

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage.

It's deep but small. A nick.

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means…

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid.

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor.

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream."

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?"

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?"

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence."

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay."

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?"

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?"

"You want to tell me, right?"

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope."

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again.

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?"

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside."

"What were you doing up?"

"That's my business," Morgan says.

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers.

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops.

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby.

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?"

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?"

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading.

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night."

She gawps.

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never… and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–"

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?"

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down."

"Yes sir."

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly.

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…"

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh.

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me."

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now."

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away.

"I don't deserve him," you say softly.

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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nisuna · 5 months

Text

Currently trying to recreate tipsy big!brother Suguru x reader x Satoru bcs I don't know what happened to it. Did I delete it did it get deleted idkkkk I'm so sad

But I did it!! I added some stuff and refined it a bit soooo.. noice

The ask was: tipsy Suguru shares his pretty little sister with Satoru<3

<3masterlist<3

18+ MDNI

TW: stepcest, riding, dick sucking, throat fucking, anal play (not putting anything in), mentions of foursome; use of baby, princess, good girl; dry humping, groping, tit sucking, teasing, a fuck ton of dirty talk, breeding kink, hickeys, oral (m receiving)

They've been teasing you all evening. But because they always were touchy when showing affection, you didn't think much of it. So you didn't mind that your Brother Suguru was hugging you from behind, head on your shoulder while swaying both of you to the music at one of their shitty house parties. And you didn't mind when Satoru ran his hands up and down your waist to greet you. But what you did start minding, was when you felt your brother rub his hard crotch against your ass. And you did mind when Satoru's fingers danced along the hem of your low-cut dress, occasionally slipping in to give your tits a squeeze. At one point they were just shamelessly dry humping you on the dance floor. Nobody seemed to care, because the other guests were about past tipsy at this point. But whenever you tried to speak up they both shushed you saying it's not that serious and that it's just for fun. You just couldn't say no to either of them.

When you ended up staddling Satoru you realized that they were lying to your face the whole time. Because you think it is rather serious when you're straddling your brother's best friend, dress bunched at your tummy exposing your tits and ass, while your brother is pulling down his pants. "We really shouldn't be doing this", you whined, trying more to convince yourself than the two guys. Satoru just hummed while sucking deep purple marks on your neck, occasionally licking over them as he squeezed you tight. "Don't worry, princess. This is just for fun, we'll take good care of ya.", he whispered against your lips, giving your hip a reassuring squeeze.

"Which hole do you want, Satoru? Dibs on her mouth", your brother grinned, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol he's had so far.

"Hmm, I was thinking pussy. But if you say it like that..." he bit your neck while gliding his slicked finger over the rim of your asshole. The attention made you gasp and clutch on to his shoulders. He kissed your temple still playing with your other hole. "But why don't we leave this for a special occasion, shall we?" he winked at you and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Fine by me", Suguru huffed, already stroking his cock in your direction.

And that's how you ended up in the predicament you're currently in. You tried your best to take Suguru as deep as possible, but not choke too much. Your mind felt fuzzy from Satoru whispering in your ear while also paying attention to your asshole. "Baby", he moaned, "look at it, it's literally begging for attention. Bet you could take three guys at once. Should we get a third one to fill up your mouth while me and your brother fuck your ass and pussy? Hmm? You'd like that huh. Don't lie to me, I can feel you dripping all over my leg. You're gushing, pretty.", he kissed your cheek, while you were moaning around your brother's dick. You tried to shake your head no (you were in complete denial), but your brother kept your head in place fucking his cock deeper down your throat.

"Satoru, you better keep talkin' to her like that, her moans do wonders 'round my cock ah"

"You don't have to tell me that, she's squeezing me so hard whenever I say anything. Say, want us to breed you? Want three big men to manhandle and breed you so all of your holes are full of cum? Hmm want to feel it drip out while we push it right back in?", he mused while groping one of your tits with his hand and sucking on the nipple of the other one.

You momentarily unlatched yourself from Suguru's cock but continued to stroke it with your hand while you mewled, "Yeees want it bad, want to feel so full, wanna feel you drip out, oh god please fill me up!!"

"Hehe, you heard her," your brother hummed, you could only yelp when you felt him yank you by the hair, lips back on his cock, "now get back to work."

"Mhmm~" you hummed around his dick.

"Alright, we're gonna fill you up, make ya nice and plump. But you gotta cum first okay? Can you do that for me, cream round my cock, yeah?"

You moaned in agreement and felt your eyes roll back as Satoru's thick fingers went to work on your neglected clit.

They were fucking you between them as you tried to pleasure both of them, while Satoru was rubbing thick circles on your clit. Your mind was going fuzzy from getting filled on both ends and from the aftermath of Satoru's dirty talking.

He was right on time when you felt yourself get close, "Gonna fuck you airtight next time, if you cum right now. Can you do that? Oh yeah that's it." You came with a muffled scream as they kept fucking you through your high. Satoru finished right after from your pussy convulsing around him. And when you looked up to Suguru with teary, fucked out eyes, that was when he too hit his limit, stuffing his cock in your mouth and spilling down your throat. You eagerly swallowed all of it and when he pulled out you showed him your empty mouth, proudly sticking out your tongue. He kissed your forehead while patting your hair. "Good girl, you did so well for us."

"Yeah good job", Satoru nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. "Also", he kissed from your neck to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, "I wasn't joking about someone joining. We really want to try a lot of things with you, right, Suguru?"

"Right", your brother smiled gently, coming closer to cage you between the two of them.

This experience will definitely leave a dent in your relationship, but you felt safe between the two guys you trusted most in the world. How could that possibly be wrong?

----

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

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avocado-writing · 4 months

Text

home

pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader

rating: E

notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!

This too shall pass.

It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box.

And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you.

He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed.

You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you.

So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either.

The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it.

Still.

No point mulling that over again, is there?

Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.

No. No. Stop.

The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door.

Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door.

Your heart stops.

Because there he is, of course.

Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are.

You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered.

He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand.

“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed.

You shut the door in his face.

Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.

“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”

It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise.

“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”

“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”

You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?

Fuck. You’re so weak.

So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth.

“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”

“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”

The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt.

“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you.

“What?”

“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”

You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation.

“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”

You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”

Your fingers grip the counter.

“Oh.”

“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”

You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper.

“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:

“Why now?”

He smiles thinly.

“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”

You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him.

“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again.

A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire.

“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows.

“You… what… why?”

“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”

He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on.

Hope.

And then, suddenly, you’re kissing.

It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too.

Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own.

“Doctor…” you manage.

Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi.

Your Doctor is the molten gold you need.

“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again.

His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree.

However. In this instance he has far too many clothes.

You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually.

Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you.

You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him.

It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name.

“Oh… you’re…”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now.

You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back.

“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”

He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too.

A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing.

Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.

Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked.

You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast.

When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you.

He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter.

“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”

“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”

You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know.

“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”

This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back.

#The doctor x reader #Doctor who x reader #the doctor x you #david tennant x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #14th doctor x reader #fourteenth doctor x reader #my writing #full disclosure only seen the star beast so far lol

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heartlyrins · 7 days

Note

Sooo I saw that you write for lnd 👉🏼👈🏼

Can I pretty please ask for big brother Zayne? I don't mind either being incest or stepcest you can pick

A fic would be lovely but just general headcanons of what you think big brother Zayne would be to reader would be fine too!! 🥺

- 🫧

PLAYING NURSE FOR BIG BROTHER !

˚₊‧desc— Zayne always needs a nurse at home, fortunately his little sister is there!

˚₊‧tw— dark content, incest, incest, incest, INCEST, smut, blowjob, riding, bimbo!reader, big brother!Zayne, reader is of age but very sheltered

˚₊‧a/n— My first named Anon and my first lnd ask!! Sorry I can't write a long full fic rn, I'm too busy :(

Growing up, you've always been under the care of your big brother. Once your parents died, you truly had nobody but him.

And it's not like you mind, you love your big brother! You wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Just the thought of your big brother being forced to work makes you sad the whole day.

Everytime he comes home, he says that you have to play nurse for him! That includes giving him medicine, bathing him, and giving him little kisses all over his face!

But there were times where he told you to do some.. extra tasks as a nurse. Why, of course it includes sucking his cock like a good girl.

Overtime, you realize all these 'extra tasks' seems to includes his cock one way or another. He says that it's normal for nurses to do that.

Sometimes nurses help their patient, or even their doctors! And you can't help but wonder, does all nurses do this?

"Welcome home, big brother!" you exclaim once he arrives at the front door, you help him take off his jacket and realizes he looks really tense.

You helped him to the couch, he must've been stressed at work since he isn't responding to anything you say at all!

You make a little pout before he sighs and ruffles your hair before unzipping his pants, letting his cock fly out and slaps against his stomach.

You drooled at the sight of his cock. It must've been another one of your nurse duties time! You have to help your doctor distress!

You touch the tip of his cock, testing it and seeing as he let's out a hiss at the contact of your hand. You grinned as you spit on your hand, he told you that your saliva is another medicine for his cock!

As you touch the sensitive flesh, he let's out little moans and groans when he feels your warm hands.

"D—don't. Don't tease me." He warns and takes your hands off his cock before putting the tip of it on your mouth.

"Come on, open. Don't bite unless you want to be spanked like last time." The threat hangs over your head as the memories flood in, making you widen your mouth for it to fit.

His cock is gorgeous—the tip is a pale red and it's enormous. You want to suck his cock all day long, so tasty when it slips in your mouth slowly.

You've already rid of your gag reflex long ago just so his cock can fit warmly inside your mouth. He groans and he rests his rough hand on your head, controlling your movement slowly.

He gets breathless after a few moments and pulls your warm cavern away from his dick, he pats his lap for you to climb on which you do so—excitedly.

"Ride it." The moment he says it, you lift your skirt up and pulls your panties to your ankles before positioning yourself over his cock and inserting it in.

"Feels 'sho good, big brother~" you moan out and peppers a kiss all over his face. He just lets you ride him without taking control over you, he was too stressed today.

You chase after your climax all in your own but got a bit too tired of bouncing on his lap, that's when he takes control of your movements when he notices how tired you seem.

He makes you jump on his cock, which makes you roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"W-wah! Wait..! I'm cumming, cumming~" you moan out and bite your lip when his placid dick gets hard once again inside your cunt.

You seemed so tired after only a round of cumming and you remember that your big brother has too much stamina.

Especially when he's pent up.

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bouncybongfairy · 3 months

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Study Buddies

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Fem Reader

Summary: Peter Parker is your neighbor and, to put it bluntly, you've had a thing for him since moving in. One night, Peter discovers you're doing a report on the T. fabricii spider. This species is known for bounding and biting the female before sex. Peter decides to give you a live demonstration of this.

Word Count: 2.5k+

TW: Rough Sex, Blood Kink, Bondage, Nasty Smut.

Go to reference blog for smut: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

To say you somewhat keep an eye on the sad man who lives across from you would be an understatement. Part of you felt like it was wrong to invade anyone’s privacy in such a way; the other side didn’t share these same morals. Living on your own, for the first time at 19 was really overwhelming. When you first caught a glimpse of him through the window above your bed, while reading After We Collied by Anna Todd. It had been a long day, School 9:00 am to 12:30 pm then work from 1:00 pm to 9:00 pm. Not to mention the homework and reading assignments from your professors. Even though you had a stack of homework needing attention you were procrastinating by reading. Feeling your stomach tightening and a hot blush creep onto your face. Then your ears started burning, which made you set down the book and get a glass of water. You saw him through the window as you walked back into the bedroom. He was taking his shirt off, setting his hands on his desk, and letting his head low. Either he was covered in a thin layer of sweat or water from the shower covered his body. You could see every muscle in his back and arms under his skin, completely flexed like he was in pain. His hair was brown and shaggy, flopping in front of his face, covering his eyes and nose. Cuts and bruises were scattered around his body, his mouth was hung open. Saliva was making his pink bottom lip glisten from the glow of the laptop on his desk. He was inspecting his own body, looking at all the cuts and abrasions. Out of nowhere, he moves to look directly at your window, which makes you drop onto the ground, hoping he didn’t see you. Your cat was so spooked, he attempted to run under the bed but unfortunately his rolls prevented him from doing so. You crawled over and began soothing him.

“You don’t think he saw me right?” you asked as you gave him kisses between his ears. You were really hoping he didn’t see you, your hair was wrapped up in a towel for god sakes.

Standing up slowly, you checked to see if he was still there. When you checked, the lights in the bedroom were cut off making it impossible to see anything. After turning the T.V on and getting comfortable in bed again, you realize you can’t stop thinking about him. His body was so long and lanky, yet his muscles were still so defined and toned. You clear off your bed, and try to act like seeing your neighbor indisposed isn't affecting you. The next morning, you’d completely forgotten about last night's events. In fact, you were feeling quite chipper, immediately filling the cat's bowl. It was Friday and you couldn't be more excited to sit around and rot for the weekend. You were currently working at a bug museum that was a couple hours away from your college. It was super convenient not only distance wise but you loved the job. Sure the kids could get sticky and annoying but you liked working with all the insects. Nobody could waterboard this out of you but ever since you started working there, you’d become quite sweet on Spider-Man. It didn’t take long for you to put the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out his identity. Sometimes as you unlocked the door to the apartment building, you’d see a single web hanging from his window. Other times, you’d hear police sirens and then you’d hear the loud screeching of a heavy fire escape window open then close. You started keeping notes of all these little things. Currently being the manager of the Spider section of the museum, it gave you an excuse to research till your fingers bled. Trying to figure out what species of spider he could be. A theory you were itching to prove true or false, was that Spider-Man didn’t have naturally occurring webs but rather man made. A healthy spider doesn’t normally have a limit to the silk it can produce. When you watched him fight, he would eventually stop using his webs and rely more on crawling or jumping. You had a notebook where you noted all these little observations and ideas.

After taking the subway to school, you rushed to get to your lecture on time. Calculus and Zoology were the last two classes of the week. Many of your peers had dropped the class by this point but that didn’t bother you one bit. It only meant more attention for you, not to mention the teachers became less… picky when it came to assignments. Hell there were times when you thought your English professor used your class as a rant session. You were praying the professors would take it easy on the class, you know… get into that Friday spirit a little early; they didn’t. As pitiful as it was to admit you were actually looking forward to your Zoology assignment; a research paper of an animal of your choice. As sad as that sounded, you really were excited about it, at this point it was like a special interest.

Work was quite slow, only a couple people wandered in and left once they realized it wasn’t a themed cafe. This made you chuckle every time before turning back to your laptop. Honestly, you hated it a lot more than it was slow. When it was busy, it distracted you from being on your feet for 8 hours. Before leaving, you grabbed a book on the spider you chose for your report: Thanatus fabricii. The owner ended up closing early for the day which you didn’t mind at all. Practically skipping to the taxi you’d just hailed down. It was coming down so hard that you were practically soaked by the time you made it inside the building. Hair dripping and makeup beginning to feel sticky. It took you a couple times to shove the door open due to the weather making them expand and warp. Fat-Boy came and greeted you while opening the door. Meowing like he’s never eaten before in his life. You giggled at his nervous pacing while scooping a couple cups into his bowl. Setting your bags on the counter and pulling out your laptop, book and notebooks, typing at the rough draft of your essay. Suddenly Fat-Boy began clawing at the bedroom door which prompted you to go investigate. Walking into your bedroom and opening the door you shiver from how cold the air is. After flicking the lights on, you immediately notice the window was open. You rush over to close it, luckily there wasn’t too much water damage from the rain. Your stomach was doing summer salts, especially because you know it was closed before you left. Running back into the kitchen, trying to find a knife to arm yourself with. You could practically hear your heart beating in your ears. Suddenly something drops from the ceiling, causing you to scream. Immediately you recognized him as Peter, eyes dark and brows furrowed. He slowly started moving closer, you were frozen in fear. In complete shock, your flight or fight reflex is fully engaged. You thought he was coming towards you but instead, he went over to your computer and notes. Every once in a while his eyes would widen or he would chuckle. As scared as you were, you couldn’t help but take in all his little details. The cuts on his face or the bruising under his eyes.

“I knew you were a horny little freak but I didn’t realize how nasty you really were,” he said, breaking you out of the dissociation you fell into. Still frozen in fear, you held up the knife a little higher, hands still shaking.

“You’ve been studying me?” he asked, using a web to take the knife from your grip.

“I’m honestly impressed. I originally thought you were watching me because you wanted proof of my identity. I didn’t realize you were stalking me because of an infatuation,” he said, coming closer.

You booked it, running towards the front door attempting to pry it open. Once you finally manage to rip it open, a web flies past you. Slamming the door closed with a loud bang. Immediately you run to the bedroom, knowing the fire escape is there. By the time you reached the window, he was already right behind you. He grabbed your arm and turned you around so you were facing him. His grip was strong, stone locked onto both arms. This was the first time you’d ever gotten a good look at his face. He looked like he was fraying at the edges. Eyes with pupils so wide they looked black, both eyebrows had splits in them. Bruising around his eyes and spread around his face.

“I saw you’re doing a report on the T. fabricii spider, have you finished your research about how they mate?” he asked, you just stared at him. Ashamed that you were finding this erotic. The entire time you’d been watching him, he’d been doing the same. Made you feel inferior, like you weren’t as slick as you once thought. He wasn’t pleased with your silence and shook you a little to break you out of that trance.

“No,” you said weakly, he let go of one of your arms and brushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“They bite and bound the females before mating to avoid being eaten. Doesn’t that seem… efficient,” he said chuckling slightly.

You were unsure of how to react, his energy becoming harder and harder to read. Originally you thought he only had violent intentions due to him discovering your infatuation. Knowing that his intentions were more sexual made you feel less stressed or scared. He let go of your arms and moved his hands to your waist then to your hips. You shivered as goosebumps began to prickle along your skin. Lowering his head a bit, he runs his lips over your ear and down your neck. Your back arches involuntarily, drawing a deep breath in from the sensation.

“I like touch starved whores,” he growled into your ear, picking you up and using his body to press you against the wall, “getting wet from the littlest things, like me breathing down your neck or gripping your arm a little too tight,” he said into your ear.

Not being able to take the build-up anymore, you smash your lips against his. The kiss was rough, continuously biting and nipping at your lip. Your mouth started to taste metallic, making you pull away. He didn’t let you, tangling his fist in your hair. Moving the two of you from the wall to the bed. The way he picked you up and threw you around made you feel weightless. Completely at the mercy of his strength, you welcomed it nervously. Teeth chattering and hands shaking, he was sucking hickies on your neck to the point where it was hurting. Starting to squirm a bit, he secures your wrists to the head board with webbing. Doing the same to your feet, completely paralyzing you. Instead of pulling your clothes off he rips them from your body. His strength and pure brute force was daunting, shredding fabric like it was paper. After undressing himself, he crawls back up. You couldn’t hold back a couple gasps and moans, feeling the tip of his length trace up your leg then inner thigh. He looked angry and focused solely on you. He rested his elbows by your ears, not caring that he was pulling the fuck out of your hair. This caused you to squirm even more, in reaction to this he sank his teeth into your shoulder.

You cried out in pain as he slowly started adding more pressure to his bite. The hot burning sensation causes more pleasure than it should. Trying to aid the aching feeling from the lack of touch, you rub your thighs together. Spread your wetness all over your thighs. Becoming irritated with your lack of patients, he uses his knees to separate your legs. Letting go of your shoulder to sink his teeth into your neck. Now biting harder and more often; moving from your neck to your chest and other shoulder. You were beginning to foggy, face bright red and flushed. Once he was satisfied with his work, he turned his attention back to you. Grabbing you by the jaw to see the state of you. He practically moaned when seeing how glazed over your eyes were. Rubbing his shaft in between your folds, broke you out of this trance. Bucking your hips up, trying to create more friction between the two of you. Not liking how much control you had over your movements, he began binding you up tighter to the bed. Once he was confident in your restriction, he started pushing himself inside you. He was grunting and cursing under his breath, your legs being tied together making you that much tighter. He was big and you could feel yourself stretch around him. He buried his face into your shoulder, practically panting as he fucked in and out of you. The overstimulation being caused by the pain and pleasure simultaneously was driving you crazy. His arms were wrapped around your neck, almost suffocating you as he pounded frantically. Your moans and cries were strangled and garbled. A mixture of sweat and tears were running down your face. Being completely bound and restricted was making your stomach cramp with frustration. Unable to touch him or not being able to match his energy.

He slowed down for a second and turned to make eye contact with you. His mouth was covered in blood from how often and forcefully he was biting you. Mouth hanging open and his face glistened in sweat. He catches your lips with his, indicating a sloppy kiss. He’s completely slowed his thrusts down to an agonizing pace. All your frustration and over stimulation coming to a head, you bite down on his lip as hard as you can. He pulls his head back and looks down at you with a shocked expression.

“Faster,” you beg, accidentally spitting a bit of blood onto his face. He smirks down at you, before wrapping his hands around your neck.

“Doesn’t look like you’re in any position to be making demands,” He growled at you before slamming his dick inside you.

He was now using his hands around your throat to support his weight. It didn’t matter to you because he was now pounding into you at full force. Almost showing that he was as frantic to reach his orgasm as you were. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting your body go limp. Sucking in strangled breaths, he paid no regard to this to catch up at his current pace. You were getting close, your walls pulsating around him. Your pussy was contracting around him as you came. Black dots appear in your vision as you ride out that high. Seeing and feeling you cum was enough to send him over the edge. Rutting and spurting into you, completely blissed out as he came. Immediately after he was done he didn’t bother letting you free from the webbing. You were too exhausted and braindead to care.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker rough smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #andrew garfeild x reader #rough smut #blood k!nk #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man smut #andrew garfeild smut

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an-exasperated-hades-kid · 28 days

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So I've been seeing a lot of will solace hate, and I'm here to defend my son.

First of all, he's not a toxic person at all he's a human who can mess up at times and be unintentionally rude, like in that one scene boo where he says

‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –

^ that is rude but he didn't have bad intentions because according to him nico wasn't scary and the people that he hung out with - Lou Ellen and Cecil- didn't think that nico was scary either as they were both friendly towards him when they met him at the Roman camping area outside chb so while his delivery wasn't good he meant no harm and he also helped nico realize that not everyone hates him and then there are a few jokes that he made that people consider toxic or offensive but nico was never offended or sad about these jokes he only rolled his eyes and acted exasperated so he knew will meant no harm .

Will is canonically described as a laid-back and calm person, but he is also stubborn when it comes to certain things like medical related things which is understandable since he can feel everything physically wrong with a person by just touching them and is persistent that they don't die and Take care of themselves which is understandable since he saw majority of his siblings die and doesn't want more ppl to die .

Will is actually quite a complex character he's calm and laid back but he's stubborn and strict when he needs to be he's supportive and loving to nico but since he's a kid he struggles with being understanding sometimes hence why he asks persephone for advice on how to be there for nico properly showing that he's mature enough to ask for help . He's also someone represses his emotions because he thinks that as head counselor, he has to be a perfect example, and he told this apollo in the 1st toa book. He's also pretty insecure about his abilities, as shown in boo

Evidence:

You did,’ confirmed Nico. ‘But it was the way you did it. You made it clear that you wanted me around. You said you wanted me to come to the infirmary and help, because … because you could use a “friendly face”.’

‘It was true. And you did help.’

‘You brought me closer instead of rejecting me,’ Nico said, his voice cracking. ‘I’d never been called a friendly face. Ever. You made me rethink everything – my place in camp, my crush on Percy, my future. It took you scolding me like you were the camp director to make me realize that I was … wanted.

___

But with Nico … It’s hard, Persephone. I want the best for him, and he seems to disappear into his darkness, like he’s hiding in a place where he doesn’t want my light.’

‘Then why not offer him your darkness

_____

Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently, he could also be stubborn and aggravating

_______________________________________

In conclusion will isn't toxic and he isn't perfect and if I'm wrong about something please point it out cause I haven't read the books in a while and if I missed something please point it out and I'm sorry for the typos I wrote this without wearing my glasses as 3 am after studying for a test

#will solace #defending will solace #hes not a bad person but hes also not perfect hes a mixture of both #we need to stop the hate for will like hes done like one or two bad thing in the series and even those times didnt mean to be rude #solangelo #percy jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #leave my boy will alone like if he comes off as a dick its a writing mistake on ricks part except that boo i will not exuse him there #anti will solace #im countering yalls argument #its stupid and immature to hate someone because they did like 1 thing #like bro is 16 and he was 14/15 during that scene in boo ofc he's going to make mistake #he's a fucking child and he's learning

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meanbossart · 10 days

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Another much overdue ask compilation! Some short-ish lore asks (Gale, Gort, DU drow relationships and pet-companion preferences) and a couple of art/advice ones sprinkled in. THIS IS BY NO MEANS ALL OF MY ASKS so as usual I appreciate everyone's patience!

I actually think he'd give them a pass entirely as soon as he noticed. Correct me if I'm mistaken but half-drow get No love from underdark drow and are usually surface babies right? So that fruit is miles away from the tree lol. I think he generally has a bit of a soft spot for mixed kinds since he himself feels like an amalgamation of sorts.

Thank you! They're kind of a pain in the ass to draw at times for that very reason but man I do like the look 😩if other people like it too then that makes it all worth it!

THAT'S TRICKY TO ANSWER BECAUSE OFTEN TIMES I'M NOT... REALLY TRYING. I've draw a ton of horror comics for mine and my partner's series' SAD SACK and SORTIE, so I think it just comes naturally to me 😅 also I do genuinely find expressive and, uh, rugged faces more attractive? (I think they look rugged, again that's what people tell me at least.)

I think the secret might be adding bits of realism in there. I get a lot of comments about the wrinkles and eyelashes I add to my art, as well as the way I draw individual teeth (though I've lately been making an effort to simplify my style in favor of drawing faster, so I haven't done that as much or in as much detail.)

Both symmetry and the lack of it can also add to that effect. I have employed both facial unevenness and almost point-perfect symmetry to achieve something a little frightening or otherworldly in my work. [MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Thank you so much!!! The contrast is very much intentional, that's what DU drow's character is all about ;)

Hahah well I somewhat doubt Bhaal would care that his spawn gets named, but either way he stripped himself of his name as soon as he killed his foster parents and abandoned the Underdark. He had a drow name that I jotted down somewhere but it's completely irrelevant because nobody has used it since he was a child, and he doesn't remember it (even pre-tadpole/having his brain scrambled.) Here's a little write up about his origins that might shed some more light on that: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739688837431836672/did-drow-ever-have-a-childhood-before-the-temple

And about his original drow-given name and the reason behind it: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/741350986692591616/drow-had-to-have-been-given-a-name-by-his-adoptive

Everyone just referred to him as his supposed race, or as Bhaalspawn or Bhaal's child, and any other similar titles. Orin called him "kin" and "brother" and Gortash likely called him his associate. Post-tadpole the camp grows entirely used to calling him "the drow" and he has no desire to change that or to choose a proper name.

THANK YOU BOTH SO MUCH😭 no reason to be intimidated, I'm just some rando drawing BG3 fan art LOL I've been drawing since I was a child, and started taking it semi-seriously when I was 16 years old, so twelve years ago! That's around the time where I got my first non-display tabled and used that well into my twenties, prior to that I only did stuff on paper and liked to do inks color with pencils. I never really ventured into traditional painting at all except for a little bit of water-coloring in college.

Traditional and Digital art are very much different beasts. Which one you want to start with is, in my opinion, just dependent on what you want to do. Digital art gives you a lot of tools that makes learning easier, but you might find yourself having much steeper of a learning curve if you ever decide to do traditional art instead. If you want to be good at both, you need to practice both, since the skill doesn't entirely translate from one medium to the other.

Naturally you will be able to draw well on either, it's just... Different. I will say though, that I think if you're still learning you should use whatever allows you to look directly at what your hand is doing, so either traditional or display tablet/Ipad. I have no idea what a non-display tablet would do to a beginner, but remembering my experience with it I feel like it might be a huge detriment to developing the skill (feel free to share your experiences in the replies if you disagree, as I would definitely be curious to read them!)

YOU KNOW ME BABY IT WAS MESSY AND COMPLICATED the tldr.: is that they were "buddies", absolutely no romance intended there on either mine or DU drow's part, but due to his nature the friendship was extremely weird.

Here's a couple of replies where I go into more detail about it: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739191190871818240/i-dont-have-a-particular-question-in-mind-sorry

https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/744952815768764416/so-not-sure-if-youve-covered-this-but-i-thought

That's definitely reserved for the vamp LOL DU drow very much enjoys when Astarion teases and fusses over him, and while Astarion probably got a kick out of acting that way around such a big and scary looking guy at first, I think by "now" (later and post-game) he's pretty much immune to DU drow's looks and just enjoys doing it in earnest.

He's not at all averse to being touched (even rather intimately) by close friends, but he wouldn't be quite THAT vulnerable with anyone else.

HE REALLY DISLIKED GALE... He irked him out by seemingly fostering a rather persistent romantic interest in him for at least half the time they spent together (very much based on my interpretation of their in-game interactions at the time, though my Gale might have been a little bugged.)

But also they had a... Fairly in depth relationship still? Gale was a staple in my party, and even though I antagonized him constantly by the end of the game it still felt like they had so much weight in each other's lives, if that makes sense. I might need to do a bit of an "update" on the DU Drow/Gale lore sometime, I feel like I've had some thoughts since that warrant more exploration of their dynamic (you can find a lot of old asks about it if you just search the Gale Dekarios tag in my blog though).

The gist of it is that DU drow found him arrogant and duplicitous, his constant optimist irritated him to no end and felt like it veiled a stream of self-pity (two things DU drow despises) Gale's attempts to get through to him only added insult to injury. By the end of the game he decided to pursue the crown of Karsus and this only lost him even more respect in Drow's eyes, seeing as he doesn't value godly power at all.

I was pretty overwhelmed by the game at the start so I actually missed a lot LOL including Scratch. I did get the owlbear cub though, which DU drow gladly welcomed into camp since it was injured - but I think he would have wished for it to remain a wild animal and to return back to it's home after it had grown up a bit. He didn't really make a "pet" out of it more than he just looked after the little guy in the way it's mother might have, probably with Shadowheart's help.

He wouldn't be opposed to proper pets though if one were to stumble into his life. He'd definitely be more of a cat guy because of their independence and strong little attitudes.

It is very hard to build proper rapport with him. He will be "friendly" to most people who have a good sense of humor about them, but friendSHIP is another thing entirely.

I think it's kind of circumstantial. He's very economical in his relationships and doesn't really seek them out at all - so a situation where he's forced to be in someone's company might be the only way to develop a bond with him, as he doesn't appreciate insistence either and that's more likely to push him away. He doesn't value status or titles either (kind of looks down on them really) so that won't help.

I think he just likes people who are true to themselves and their nature, sometimes even if the nature is one he disagrees with at it's core. This is why he liked Gortash, why he and Shadowheart got along so well, and why him and Astarion fit together so seamlessly despite seeming so different. Likewise I think it's why he didn't jive with people like Gale or Wyll, because they seemed to be rather... Dishonest with themselves and their own end-goals.

#ask compilation #DU drow lore #ask

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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The Mother

Synopsis: In the aftermath of her death, Aemond struggles to hold back his emotions of overwhelming guilt | Mini-Series Masterlist

Warnings: death, grief, sorry this part is also kinda sad oops

After her death, Aemond was a shell of the man he used to be. Only eating and drinking enough to get him by, nothing was pleasurable anymore as a depression seemed to grip the prince with such an iron fist that seemed to not let go.

Aside from the tears he shed on the night she died, he had not allowed himself to shed any tears since then, which worried Alicent to no end. Every day, his mother would knock on the door and let herself in, knowing that he could not find the strength to get up himself. Sometimes three days in a row she found her son laid in front of the fire, either staring into the flames with a painfully emotionless face, or asleep, all in the same position.

She came in to greet her son, clothe him, perhaps to have him regain some sort of routine, attempt to speak to him and leave. He rarely replied to any of his mother's attempts, but lately he had resorted to giving one- or two-word answers, although these efforts seemed to bleed him dry.

Alicent seemed so small against her son when she dressed him, he was a man grown for certain, but when she did these small tasks for him, she felt like he was a child all over again. A wave of melancholy rushed through Alicent when she saw her son, all grown but succumbed to this never-ending pain. A pain she could not help to resolve.

She had died and it had been nobody's fault. Aemond did not know where to place this hate, this grief. He almost needed something, someone to blame. And as easy as it would have been to blame this child they both helped to bring into the world, he could not find it in his heart to do something so cruel to something so young and innocent.

To something that was just as much hers as his.

Since then, he had never returned to those chambers and instead swapped with Alicent. He could not bear to see the possessions around him, strewn around as of they would be returned to when he knew they would not. The portraits of her, he did not know if they had been taken down or not, but equally he did not wish to see them. Perhaps he feared that when he saw her face immortalised in the painting, he would feel as if he had betrayed her.

Today was any usual day grieving for him. Alicent had already come to dress him but he had not wanted to wear his leather tunic, so walked around in his undershirt and leather bottoms. Some days he barely bothered to put his eyepatch on. This was one of those days.

He had been sitting in his armchair in front of the fire, watching the flames in the dark despite it being daytime, he usually kept the curtains closed. His peace was interrupted with a loud knock at the door, one that did not sound like his mother's this time. He barely looked up, a sigh escaping past his lips as the person behind the door did not wait to be allowed in.

In the corner of his eye he noted the arrival of his brother, Aegon. Aemond did not say anything to welcome him.

"Do you intend to lock yourself in here forever, hm?" Aegon asked suddenly, walking over to the fire to meet his brother there. In a way, Aegon felt saddened to see his brother like this and he didn't like it. But emotional vulnerability was far past Aegon now and his mother's kindness had not resulted in anything, so he thought he would play the bad big brother and see how it would turn out.

Aemond was aware this was just a way to get some different emotion out of him, but his gaze never left the fireplace, his fingers tapped on the armchair in annoyance.

"Alright, if this is how it will be, so be it" Aegon said, taking the seat across Aemond and clasping his hands together, as if he himself was nervous, "You need to remarry"

The words hung in the still air and Aegon could sense his brother was getting angry, as he watched his brother's fingers grip at the arm, his knuckles turning white.

"You are without a wife and only have one son and though for some lowly Lords this is enough, you must remarry and have more, to secure this house"

"I will do no such thing" the words were harsh, not granting his brother his gaze.

Aemond's voice almost sounded foreign to him, he had spoken so little and did not know how long it had been since that fateful day. He had only seen Aegon a handful of times since then, all of which had been wordless, so Aemond wasn't shocked that this was what his brother would say when they eventually would, something so hurtful.

"You are a Prince of the realm, a marriage will secure our future. Anyone you marry, you will only bed, put an heir in and you will not have to speak to them"

"I will not do it"

Aegon shook his head, anger rising up inside him by the second, "Do you know how long you have confined yourself to this pathetic solitude? I bet you do not even know how old your son is"

Aemond had no response to this and could think of no answer himself. It is true he had been so lost in his grief, he indeed did not know how long it had been.

Aegon suddenly stood to stand closer to Aemond, looking down at him, "Brother, as much as I sympathise with you, y/n is dead-"

Almost shocking himself, Aemond stood quickly and pulled his brother by his front, drawing his dagger from his side. Aegon's struggling was futile as Aemond's forearm pinned him against the wall underneath his chin, gripping the dagger and pointing it towards his brother. Aegon struggled against his one arm, strength was unmatched when it came to Aemond and perhaps he had been wrong in antagonising him. He had known the answer to this as he observed his brother's expression, a mix of grief, anger but also regret.

"Do not say her name" Aemond warned, pushing harder against his brother's neck, all notions of him being King were gone. Now they were simply brothers, "You may do whatever with and speak about your women as you see fit, but do not think to talk about my wife" his words hissed as they came out, "What I have with her is mine. Only mine"

"Do you believe that if you had been here that night, anything would have changed?!" Aegon argued back, only making Aemond more and more frustrated, "You may hate yourself, brother, but do not hate what you cannot control"

"I could have helped her" Aemond's comeback came quieter this time, chest heaving, "I could have been there"

"There are no wrongs to right! No sins to forgive! The only sin you are guilty of is not being a father to your child!"

There was a silence now, an epiphany ran through Aemond's head.

"Her child…" Aegon finished.

They stayed like this for a moment, the tension hanging fresh in the air between them.

"You cannot carry on like this, brother" Aegon said simply. Aemond seemed to falter slightly, eyes fluttering with emotion and at the effort trying to keep it back. "I have not been the father my children deserve, but do not resort to abandoning them, like ours did to us"

These words made Aemond break his gaze with his brother and a choked sob seemed to escape his throat as he shut his eye, the grip on his dagger and the force behind his arm faltering. Had he really resorted to treating his only son the way his own father had treated all of them, almost as if there was no father at all?

"She…she would be so disappointed in me…for what I am…" Aemond seemed to sob with no real tears falling down his face, it was more of a pained cry, feeling that stabbing feeling inside his chest once again. A feeling he had buried, now surfaced with a vengeance, "I don't know how to do this without her…"

Aemond had not realised he had melted to the floor on his knees, barely clutching the dagger in his hands. Despite not being the closest brothers, seeing his brother in such a state shot a pain through his heart. In his older years his brother had always been so strong, a skilled swordsman, a veracious reader, tall and domineering. So, to see him like this felt like taking several steps back and he wanted nothing more than to cure the hurt that had taken its place in his soul.

Aegon followed him and got to his knees, hands coming to his brother's face to force their gazes to meet, Aemond's eye was glassy, wanting to let all that pent up emotion out, but felt like in the company of his brother he could not.

"Look at me"

Aemond followed his order slowly.

"Go and see your child, be his father and pull yourself out of this misery, brother" he said quietly, for the first time instilling some sort of brotherly wisdom upon him. When Aemond barely responded, Aegon lifted his head up again, "If you will not do it for me, or mother, do it for her"

These words seemed to silence Aemond's choked sobs and he looked at his brother once more, really processing what he had said. Eventually Aemond nodded, he could not let her death by bringing their child into this world be in vain. Aegon seemed to find this response satisfactory and moved his hands to his shoulders to squeeze them lovingly.

"Get dressed" Aegon patted his shoulder and stood to leave, leaving his brother to stare at the ground for a while. Aegon held the door and looked back before leaving the room, emitting a small sigh of relief and hope, hope that his brother would finally break out of this depression. Hope that his mother would no longer have to bear the burden of essentially raising his brother's son alone and bring her out of her own melancholy.

Aemond eventually dug for the power to bring himself to his feet, letting his dagger slip through his fingers to rattle against the stone floor. He grabbed the curtains that kept him in this darkness and pulled them aside, allowing himself this moment to look upon the outside world he had long left behind. The first thing he noticed was the season, flowers which would usually bloom a good half a year since he could last recall were blooming. Aegon's words echoed in his brain, had he really shut himself away for months at a time?

The sun was still quite low in the sky, telling him that it was early in the morning. It hurt his eye slightly to watch as the sun scanned the landscape, igniting the gardens of the Red Keep a wonderful green colour. His gaze found the gardens, now littered with flowers and trees, and remembered how he had courted her there, many years ago…

He took in a deep breath and slightly begrudgingly started to dress himself, enough so that he would at least be presentable, enough so that people would at least recognise him as he used to be. Carefully, he picked up his eyepatch which had its place at his bedside and had done for several weeks, holding it now felt foreign and felt even more so when he had attempted to attach it, straightening out his leathers as he did so.

Being out in the corridor felt different, felt wrong, despite growing up here. The door felt heavier, his footsteps also and everything around him felt somewhat oppressive, like dead flowers in a vase. It was a sunny day and yet in these corridors it felt like it had on that night, dark and damp with that familiar feeling of despair hanging in the air.

Aemond seemed to take a deep breath in and stood in front of what used to be his chambers, the ones he had shared with her…

He looked down to the handles, a slow hand reaching out to grasp it. But his fingers shook with anticipation, and he pulled back to form his hand into a ball, eyes closing as if pushing past a mental wall. He could feel the hot tears welling up inside him as he remembered this was where he stood all those moons ago, his mother chasing him down the hallway. He could almost hear the raging wind and rain stripping onto stone. These thoughts plagued him until he looked back down at the handle and slowly pushed it open.

A flash of bright light was before him, the windows had their curtains drawn all the way across, spreading the sun's rays on everything inside the room. He seemed to squint slightly before his vision was restored. A wave of nostalgia seemed to literally bring him back, swallowing him whole.

The bed was made with the same bed linen and when his gaze met the pillows, a flash of her appeared and disappeared with equal speed. He had seen her body, laying still in that very spot, the one white sheet had been soaked a dark crimson, so much so that they say they had to replace the mattress also. It had all been burned long ago. He could see, even now, your bloodied hand outstretched to reach for something, seeming to reach for him in this very moment.

But you were not there. The bed was made tightly and well.

The rest of the room was the same, the table, armchairs, one had been hers and one had been his. Now they both remained empty. Before he knew it his body had made its own way to what used to be her armchair, her book was still placed on the table next to it, with a bit of paper sticking out. A chapter she would never return to. He expected his touch on the object to give him some warmth, but it was unfortunate that the object gave him no comfort.

One thing in the room that was different had caught Aemond's attention. There was a small bed, low to the ground that had been placed in front of the window. Aemond's attention stood as a small noise seemed to come from the tiny bed and he felt his heart hammer in his chest. His fingers lingered on the armchair a moment before daring to walk over to the sound. She would make fun of him if she could see him now. In Aemond's moments of doubt, she would often say 'a prince of the realm, rider of the mighty vhagar and the most skilled swordsman in the land, scared of his own child'.

Perhaps she had been right after all.

He felt the air escape his chest when he looked into the padded cot to see a child, his child…their child. He was easily a few months older than he looked and he was asleep, breathing slowly and soundly. His chubby, small hands were at his side, one gripping onto the blanket next to him.

Aemond had not realised that his eye had begun to well with tears until one had slid down his unmaimed cheek past his slight smile at watching his child. He knelt down in front of the cot, arms laid on top and simply watched the small person inside, suddenly finding himself curious about his son. He could not see all of his features, as he had his face buried into the blanket, which made Aemond's heart swell with a fatherly love. In a place he thought barren.

He reached down quietly and brushed the blanket away from the child's face, a small whimper escaped the baby at the disturbance and Aemond huffed a laugh and lovingly dragged his thumb over the soft cheek, seeming to calm instantly.

As Aemond observed his son, his eye landed upon something that made his eyebrows furrow in confusion. His fingers took some of the blanket, it seemed familiar somehow. His suspicions were confirmed when he came across the embroidery, he bought his hand to his mouth to muffle any soft cries that came out. His son had his face buried in his mother's dress. The dress she most often wore and the one she was always fixing, hemming and adding small touches to.

This revelation seemed to sway Aemond slightly and he bought all his might to not sit there and cry at the sight and at the despair that would be, that she would never meet her sweet son.

A hurried figure opened the doors to the chamber and Aemond looked up to see his mother at the door, she looked absolutely haggard and worn out, one heart placed to her chest in shock.

"Aemond…" she breathed, still processing this very different view of her son, especially after the last few months he had, "…I could not find you…" she seemed to hesitate coming into the room for a moment.

The baby inside the cot, with all the commotion seemed to whimper awake, causing Alicent to come to his side immediately, kneeling opposite Aemond to place her hand against his back.

"It's alright…it's alright…" she soothed as the baby slowly woke up.

Alicent's eyes seemed to wander to her son's who was still gripping the dress. Her brown, warm eyes met her son's, "He will not sleep without it" Alicent said suddenly.

Aemond nodded and smiled back at his mother sadly, refusing to let his tears fall once more.

The baby inside rubbed its eyes with small babbles and whimpers and Alicent offered her hand to the child who grapsed it in their chubby fingers.

"He is the image of you, Aemond" Alicent started, as the child looked up at her with eyes full of joy, "He barely fusses at all"

It was more obvious than ever that Aemond had not yet said a word as he stared teary eyed at his child, who was looking up at Alicent. Suddenly, Aemond's hand covered his mother's lovingly, the Queen looked up to meet her son's eyes again.

"I cannot thank you enough, Mother" he said, voice wracked with emotion, making Alicent's own eyes start to glaze over, "I abandoned him when he needed a parent the most. I can never repay you for raising my son…but I will do my best"

Alicent offered a sad smile before bending down to pick up the child and rest him on her hip, "Oh little one, you are getting heavy"

"Ve…vēzos" the child squawked, pointing outside excitedly. Sun. Aemond stood and observed him, swelling with pride.

"He knows Valyrian" Aemond asked, Alicent nodded,

"Only bits and pieces, the maesters teach him. But at the moment he only babbles as babies do. You were not much of a talker" Alicent smiled.

After a moment of silence, Alicent placed the child against the window seat, so that the curious child could look out the window at the flowers and greenery below, "I'll leave you" she simply said as she took her leave.

When she had left, Aemond was left very much feeling as if he didn't know what to do. He realised he still had his wife's dressed clenched in his fist, as if never wanting to let go. And once he took a seat on the end of the bed, he released to fabric to inspect , feeling those races of nostalgia and despair rolled into one once again seeing all the little details she had added to it over the years. He bought the fabric to his lips, to kiss the embroidery and breathed in, and let out a choked sob at smelling her perfume again.

Before he knew it, he was sat, head in hands and weeping with his wife's dress fisted in his hands. He could feel the tears drip off his face and hit the stone floor, the little taps they made as they did so. But at the same time he could not stop. It was not a nice cry, it was a cry where you could not catch your breath and every one you took in, felt like it rattled through your body. Every time he thought come on, get a hold of yourself, your son is in the room he descended further into a sob.

He had to pull up his head, when a small chubby hand seemed to pull at his boots. He stared in confusion as his son, wobbily pulled itself up to its feet to smile right into Aemond's face, one finger pointed against Aemond's unmaimed cheek,

"li…limago…n…" the child eventually said. Cry. Aemond wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and took the child's hand softly. Contrary to what Alicent had said, Aemond could only look at the child and see her.

The child began to whine about not being held, so Aemond tucked both of his large hands under the child’s arms to lift him to the bed beside him, resting him atop his lap firmly. The child began to play with his father’s long hair, now nicely combed, perhaps seeing that the colour was the same. After the tears had stopped, Aemond found himself staring down at his child’s concentrated face with a smile on his own.

Looking up, Aemond clocked the portrait that hung on the wall in front of him on the crest of the fireplace. The wood around it was a dark cherry red and it was the largest portrait he ever commissioned. Immortalised there was him and his wife, years ago. He caught his own figure first, one hand resting on the painted chair, his gaze drawn to the figure sitting in it. And when his own eyed dragged over to her, as if she were really right there, her eyes staring back at him with that sweet smile, he felt a heavy breath go down his throat.

She was sat there in the very dress he was holding, hands clasped at her front, hair curled and styled to fall over her shoulder. What made Aemond shudder the most was the way her eyes seemed to stare at him through the painting, a chill rattling down his spine.

“Iksan vaoreznuni, ñuha jorrāelagon” he said quietly. I am sorry, my love.

He whispered it like a prayer as his hand cradled his son’s back. A wave of guilt came over him.

“ñuha... ñuha...” the child imitated.

Aemond seemed to smile at this and stood, seating his son at his hip. Dress still in the child’s hand, Aemond presented the painting to his son, the small, wide eyes of the child looking up. A look of curiosity on his features.

“Kepa...” the child said, pointing at the figure dressed in black.

Aemond nodded, “Kessa, Kepa”

The child’s finger wandered over to the other figure, the one that made Aemond’s heart stutter. He could feel his son’s hesitation, the way his eyes searched for an answer as to who it was.

Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, Aemond finally managed the words, “Muña”

His son looked at Aemond as if by surprise and with a wide, innocent smile turned back to the painting, his small hand laid flat against it.

“Muña”

#aemond targaryen #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond angst #aemond fluff #aemond stannies #aemond #Aemond x Reader #Aemond x OC #aemond x you #lady alicent #alicent hightower #a mother for a son #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic

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libertyybellls · 4 months

Text

silver soul !

pairing; finnick odair x fem reader

summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.

oh, finnick.

you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.

he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.

he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.

“i’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.

“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.

it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.

you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”

‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?

he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.

“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”

he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.

you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.

there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”

i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.

he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.

your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.

only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.

#finnick odair #finnick oneshot #finnick angst #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x you

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strangemaleswaps · 28 days

Text

Strange Job Swap

“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.

“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!

“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.

“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”

“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”

“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!

At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.

At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.

The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.

He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes.

My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.

I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.

“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”

“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.

“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”

“Because I want to keep my job?”

“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.

“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.

“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”

“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.

When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.

“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.

“To whom it may concern,

Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV

I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person, but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.

The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.

How to use:

Flip the coin

No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!

It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.

I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.

The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.

What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!

I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.

I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off.

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.

“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.

“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.

“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.

“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.

To whom it may concern,

Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola

Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.

Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes.

Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.

I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.

I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.

Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.

“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”

“No?” He looked shocked.

“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”

“Really? I can go?”

“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.

As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.

“Hey!”

“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”

“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?

“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”

“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”

“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?”

He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!

“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”

“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”

God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!

“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”

#strangemaleswaps #body swap #male body swap #male tf #weight gain

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nerdasaurus1200 · 1 month

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I just realized some sad things about Eugene and Varian’s talk in PEEV so Imma talk about that scene.

So first Eugene starts pretty small with it. I think you could interpret this as either Eugene trying to imply Quirin being a mole as gently as he can, or bringing up a sort of…I guess fact to start the tense conversation. And of course it kinda flies over Varian’s head. He takes it at face value, making sure to reassure Eugene. Which to me implies Eugene has probably been worrying about the Brotherhood for a while now.

So Eugene tries again, much more obvious this time. Although he never outright says anything he directly points the finger at Quirin. The implication is there. And lately I’ve been wondering if there’s something a little deeper to this conversation. i feel like could easily be echos of season 1 cause the whole reason Varian’s villain arc started was cause his dad was in danger. And now his dad is in danger, again. Except Eugene may be trying to not repeat history by actually checking on Varian this time and trying to nip this potential threat in the bud.

And if you listen to the dialogue Varian never actually says it either. But you can see in his eyes. Now that Eugene’s planted the idea in his head, the fear is very much there. And his trauma from season 1 is probably coming back a bit too.

So of course he mildly deflects and snaps at Eugene. I think this is…I’d say 60% trauma reaction, with the other 40% being Varian just being generally angry at the idea that Quirin would ever betray or hurt him. And maybe slightly at the idea that Cassandra would do that to him. Cause Adira and Hector are one thing, Edmund and Quirin is a new low.

Also I think this is actually the first time we’ve actually seen Varian seriously angry since season 1 ended. Yeah we’ve seen him pissed before this season but that was for jokes. There is nothing funny about Varian’s anger here. Cause when Varian gets angry shit goes down.

So of course Eugene backs off and drops the topic. He probably thinks (or rather hopes) Varian has some failsafe already taken care of for that situation but I think it’s more likely that Eugene doesn’t wanna press Varian any further and trigger him.

But, sadly…Varian knows Eugene is right. He knows he has to do something to make sure nobody gets seriously hurt or worse when Quirin inevitably turns on them.

#tts #rta #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #nerd talks #varian #eugene fitzherbert #captain eugene #analysis

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nightgoodomens · 6 months

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I feel like many don’t want to face that and I kind of hate the idea of it but maybe it’s simply that Aziraphale might have fallen in love with Crowley while at the same time not accepting that he’s a demon. Which is fucked up, really, but when we think about how brainwashed Aziraphale is, it might make a fucked up sense.

Heaven is good, Almighty has a plan, Crowley you will see how wrong you are! You’re a demon! He DOES keep on saying those things. He does keep on suggesting that Crowley is less than him just because he’s not an angel anymore even though he stared at him like at a picture before he fell. And I feel like Season 2 made us forget because he watches him with so much love in his eyes and he doesn’t say that hurtful shit anymore, because he’s been free from Heaven for a couple of years now… but when Heaven (Metatron) comes back he goes straight back into this bullshit and hurtful way of thinking about Crowley - Second in command, you’re the bad guys.

Maybe it’s just who he is. We want them to be perfect for each other so we want to make Aziraphale perfect and perfect partners don’t say such awful things to each other, don’t suggest they’re less than the other one. Especially since Crowley doesn’t deserve that. Clearly doesn’t deserve that and he’s good to Aziraphale too. Crowley is good in a human sense, not the bullshit Heaven sense and Aziraphale needs to learn what being good actually means.

Maybe it is just that one thing about Aziraphale that sucks and his character will have the needed character development and finally realise that Crowley is not less than him. That actually he’s better than all those Angels combined.

Neil said it, David said it. Aziraphale is brainwashed and he just needs to face the music. I think that’s what Season 3 will be based on and separating him from Crowley who protected him from everything bad is part of making Aziraphale finally break from the toxicity of his “family” = Heaven. Nobody will protect him from it and something must happen that will finally have him really break away. If nothing worked for six thousand years then it needs to be major.

It’s a fucking sad thing because we wish Aziraphale wasn’t so brainwashed after 6 thousand years on Earth, after knowing Crowley for this long, and Crowley doesn’t deserve that treatment. I mean - Aziraphale doesn’t deserve that either, because he will never be happy stuck with that thinking. But it is what it is.

It sucks but it is what it is.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable fandom #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable dumbasses #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #aziracrow

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

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Punch me out

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 4

Prompt: Meet-cute at work

Rated: E

CW: Blowjobs, dirty talk, slight degradation kink

Tags: No UD AU; company Christmas party; bathroom sex; blowjobs; dirty talk; Eddie is a disaster and Steve is a slut and they both love it; inappropriate use of vending machine drinks

Eddie shouldn't have gone to the company Christmas party. The few weeks he's worked here taught him a bunch of stuff.

The CEO? Asshole.

The management? Spineless lickspittles.

The corporate culture? A conglomerate of bullshit. Eddie’s position is called Facility Manager - the most ridiculous euphemism for Janitor ever.

Anyhow!

He shouldn't have come, but Gareth insisted that was exactly what those tie-wearing douchebags wanted, so they went.

Only that Gareth has disappeared with the receptionist, leaving Eddie to aimlessly meander while the tie wearers got progressively more drunk. He should probably have gone home.

Only he didn't.

So he kind of brought this upon himself, he thinks, while a puddle of punch soaks into his crotch and laughter wafts all around him.

The only one looking equally horrified is the guy the punch belonged to. He’s still holding the empty cup and blushing from his chestnut hair all the way down to his business shirt.

“Shit, sorry!” he babbles. “Didn’t see you there-”

“Don’t sweat it, Stevie,” Tommy Hagan guffaws. “I’m sure he brought his mop.”

Stevie’s face grows stony. “Shut it, Tommy.”

Hagan does.

Before Eddie can feel confused, one large hand takes him by the shoulder and steers him away.

“Sorry again.”

“‘s alright,” Eddie shrugs. “Was just heading home-”

“Oh, no.” A pair of big, sad eyes fixes him from behind wire-frame glasses. “At least let me make it up to you? Please?”

How could Eddie say no to that?

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans, head thudding against the bathroom wall. "If that's you apologizing, you can spill stuff on me more o-ooooh …"

Stevie doesn't answer, which … okay. That would be quite the feat with Eddie’s cock down his throat as it is.

He looks up at Eddie from where he's kneeling, and fuck, the sight of him! Hairdo ruined, lips stretched obscenely wide, eyes glassy with arousal. The picture is almost enough to do Eddie in, so he tangles his fingers in that hair and yanks that warm, wet mouth closer. Stevie's eyes roll back and he moans, and that's all it takes before Eddie is coming down his throat.

Stevie doesn't so much as whine, just swallows. God, he's perfect. Eddie wants to take him home. Tie him up in bed. Never let him leave.

"Wow," he murmurs as Stevie pulls off, slack-jawed and starry-eyed. "Are you always such a cockslut, or was that only for me?"

Stevie smiles up at him. The glint in his eyes is smug.

"Only if it's such a nice cock," he hums. "What's attached to it isn't bad, either."

Pretty, slutty, and a little bratty to boot? Eddie will just have to keep him.

"Give me your number?" he mumbles as Stevie staggers to his feet, and leans in for a sloppy kiss.

Stevie dances out of his reach.

"No need to," he winks, unlocking the door and skipping his way out. "We work in the same office. I'll find you."

Stevie does not find him, of fucking course. Eddie tries to put it out of his mind, goes to work as usual and does definitely not scan the crowds for that voluminous shock of hair.

He's actually relieved when the holidays come. The floors are empty and nobody calls because they need their door oiled or their light bulbs changed. Eddie holes up in his basement and starts working on that new campaign.

Until the phone rings and a bored receptionist informs him Mr Harrington's height-adjustable desk is broken.

"The CEO?" Eddie asks dumbly.

"No," drawls the receptionist, "The son."

The office is spacious and bright and tastefully decorated. Eddie hates everything about it. The fancy adjustable desk is not plugged in.

He's just under it on all fours, ass in the air, fingers desperately stretching for the socket, when the door opens. He quickly shuts down his monologue about overpaid dumbasses.

"Hey, man. I'll be out of your hair in a second."

"No need to hurry," says someone. "I'll just enjoy the view."

"What the- ow, motherfucker!" Eddie whirls around so fast he cracks his head on the desk. "Stevie?"

Stevie kicks the door shut, sips idly on his vending machine drink, and observes how Eddie clambers to his feet.

"Said I’d find you," he smiles. Before Eddie can form a reply, he's being pushed against the desk and there's a tongue down his throat.

"I- wha- wait!" He tries to pull away. Stevie keeps nipping at his throat. "Are you crazy? Harrington Junior could be here any second."

"He already is."

Eddie yelps and looks around frantically, half expecting to see someone lurking behind a potted plant. There's nobody there.

"But it's just me and-"

And then it clicks.

"Oh my God," he groans. The mouth against his pulse grins.

"Steve is fine."

"You're the CEO's son," Eddie babbles. "I called you a cockslut, I-"

Stevie - no Steve, Steve fucking Harrington, Eddie is so fucked - just shrugs.

“I am,” he says easily.

Eddie gapes at him.

“The CEO’s son or …”

Steve laughs in his face. It’s bright and cheerful and adorable and so fucking cheeky, Eddie wants to teach him some manners. Long, graceful hands are fiddling with the zipper of his overalls.

“Listen,” he sighs when Eddie doesn’t react, just keeps gaping at him like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had an unexpected business trip to go on, but … I’ve been thinking about you the entire time. Let me make it up to you?”

“I …” Eddie nods dazedly. Their lips brush with the movement. “Yeah, okay.”

“Brilliant,” Steve says. Then, in one swift movement, he takes his drink and upends it in Eddie’s lap.

Eddie gawks, heat pooling where the stain is spreading, tight and urgent.

“Oops,” Steve Harrington deadpans, and gets on his knees.

Maybe going to the Christmas party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles #nsft

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frenchtantan · 6 months

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Okay, after that mini-date between q!Tina and q!Bagi, I have some gripes to settle regarding how some people have been reacting.

First and foremost, cc!Tina. Miss ma’am, I know you’ll probably never read this, but let me tell you, if I hear you one more time saying you’re not good at roleplay I will SCREAM! You are SO passionate and in the moment, so immersed, and you immediately level yourself with how into it the people you’re interacting with are. You’re not afraid to make your character show vulnerability, fear and sadness. This is PEAK roleplaying skills, and it’s so enjoyable to watch! Please never feel invalidated just because you don’t have a 60 pages Word document about your character. You’re SO talented, and your monologues from the mini-date are incredibly poignant.

Secondly, I wanna touch upon the notion that q!Tina is easily swayed. This has some truth to it, and it did show with q!Bagi most of all. Many times she changed an answer about a question or a topic because q!Bagi had a different one. However, those were all about menial things. “But what about her opinion about the Federation?” I hear you ask. Well, it’s true that the people she’s been hanging out the most with (q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Ironmouse) are either pro or neutral towards the Federation. However, because they are still keeping her at arm’s length, they don’t go into too much details as to the why and how. q!Foolish and q!Jaiden especially have a mutual trust and share secrets that they’d never tell q!Tina, at least not now. As such, while at first simmering in a relatively Federation-friendly climate, it wasn’t such a big focus point, especially since she was so new. Like she said, she lived in blissful ignorance, and the people surrounding her didn’t really do anything to change that.

Then comes q!Bagi. Slowly but surely, they both develop a crush on each other, and as such, q!Tina wants to impress. She grasps at a small excuse to flip her view of the Federation as a way to do that, but again, in that moment, it’s not a big deal. And because they are very shy with each other and clumsily flirt, the seriousness of the topic is still somewhat behind a curtain, even though q!Bagi has been knee deep into the dark side of the island. The terrible truths and secrets, the violence, torture, betrayals, she’s seen it all already, but when around q!Tina, she puts on a brave face and acts all sweet, because it’s clear she likes her a lot! However, she does sometimes let a smidge of truth slip out, which q!Tina unconsciously hears and stores in her memory for safekeeping without thinking too much of it.

Finally comes the turning point. q!Bagi discovers q!Cellbit is her long lost brother, and he reacts badly to it, leaving her profoundly sad. q!Tina is present enough to start to see how complex her crush’s life is, through multiple days. After a setback, q!Bagi decides to invite q!Tina on the mini-date and fully opens up to her. Despite building up to it, this wave of information comes crashing down. q!Tina is hit with everything. But most importantly, she is confronted with how blissful her ignorance was, and she is SCARED, leading to her AMAZING monologue about it. However, this fully awakens her critical thinking, and she actually starts to reflect on the situation! Seriously, I don’t know how people didn’t see that! Multiple times through the mini-date, she not only expresses her honest opinion, but even does so when it CHALLENGES q!Bagi’s. She defends q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Forever, she tells her that one of the Cucuruchos is nice, she questions the idea of leaving the island, the Federation’s desire to harm, and so on. At that moment, she’s not trying to impress anymore, she wants to understand, and suggesting otherwise is highly disingenuous, reductive even.

By the end, there isn’t even a real agreement reached on any of those questions! However, what becomes clear is that q!Bagi did something nobody has truly done yet for q!Tina: she opened her heart, and decided to be completely honest. For a while now, q!Tina had become jaded about who to trust, noticing how much the others were keeping secrets, even her close friends. It upset her, and made her act irrational. Yet q!Bagi, without any second thought, chose to trust her. Not to manipulate her, not to test her, but because she truly wanted q!Tina to know who she was. She did that out of respect, to give her all the keys to make the most informed decision about their relationship. Through some more heart-to-heart, they realize they both feel the same way about the others keeping secrets, and now they know they have each-other, at least for the time being.

This leads me to the third misconception: q!Foolish. Doozers, I love you guys. The past months, you’ve fought tooth and nail to make sure q!Foolish wasn’t mischaracterized by the fandom, and I fully support you for it. However, there is something you need to realize: the other cubitos are NOT the fandom. They shouldn’t know, CANNOT know his POV, or q!Jaiden’s. As a result, the hard truth is that due to q!Foolish’s chaotic nature and seemingly wavering loyalty, NOBODY apart from q!Jaiden actually trusts him with regards to Federation matters. He’s often filibusting, joking around, and deviating when it comes to these matters, he has shown to be ready to arrest people. He CHOOSES to act like that, and since others don’t know his endgame, you cannot in good conscience blame any of them when he does not appear trustworthy. Even q!BBH with whom q!Foolish has somewhat of an unspoken bond, doesn’t tell him everything. I know you all want q!Bagi to have a conversation with him to understand him, but it’s going to take way more than that for any islander (again, other than q!Jaiden) to see him the way you do, much less q!Bagi.

This includes q!Tina by the way. As she said during the date, he’s been keeping her at arm’s length, so she’s started doing the same. He may have good reasons to do so but she can’t know them. Now, as she also mentioned, this has become kind of a mutual understanding of what they’re willing to share, and while it remains so, their friendship is almost certainly not endangered. That being said, if it WERE to come to blows, you cannot fault her if she ends up siding with q!Bagi, who’s shown willingness to cross bridges he hasn’t. Again, this is the worst case scenario. She’s still defending him so it’s suuuuuper unlikely to happen.

So yeah, that’s about it! TL;DR

q!Tina might sometimes be easily swayed, but keep in mind that when things get serious, she does have a good head on her shoulders and is capable of critical thinking.

While it’s important for the fandom to understand q!Foolish, it’s equally crucial to realize he does not appear trustworthy to almost all islanders because they don’t have the information the viewers have.

#qsmp #qsmp tina #qsmp foolish #qsmp jaiden #qsmp bagi #teaduo #shyduo #gatina #qsmp federation #tinakitten

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shotorozu · 1 year

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pretend boyfriend

(i use guardian because idk there was this one time i used “mom” in a though unrelated n old draft and i showed it to someone and they replied with “i don’t have a mom” 😧)

note(s): also this totally wasn’t inspired by something that happened to me some time ago 😭 and this upload is late so IGNORE that it’s no longer february (actually, for 10 days now) and focus on how i’m early for white day— basically a day in japan in which guys give chocolate to their crush or partner instead of girls giving chocolates to guys (which happens on valentines day) white day is on march 14 btw

»»————-　♡　————-««

you realize your sad plan for your single, partner-less white day— an extension of valentines day, backfired on you when your guardian asks you about a boyfriend upon your usual visit from school.

“what?” you question, sounding unbelieving of the question, like it was a collection of meaningless words. “i don’t have a boyfriend—”

“the chocolates say otherwise,” they point out, interested in the heart shaped box of sweets. “can i see a picture? i need to know if they’re good for you!”

what an… interesting way to determine who’s good for you. “there’s no boy— no one, trust me.” you insist, sounding a little more panicked than you would’ve liked— and this only fueled her suspicion.

“there has to be someone, you’re beautiful!” they insist. you would’ve felt complimented if it weren’t for the context of it all, and also the fact that they’re just talking about physicality “really, who gave it to you?”

you’re hesitant to say that you actually bought them yourself, not just to replicate the experience of having a significant other, (now that you’ve realized how hard you’ve been pining over someone incredibly unattainable)

but also because you couldn’t resist the contents of the box.

sure, you were given other pieces of chocolate and sweets from your classmates even some of the girls! (which wasn’t common to see on white day of all days) and a suspiciously expensive looking cupcake box landed on your table too.

(you didn’t eat it, you just couldn’t accept the fact that it wasn’t actually decor, until you went to eat lunch and smelled the thing.)

but those chocolates were obviously obligatory, considering the context of white day. besides, the box you bought was different— it had all your favorite flavors and it was from your favorite sweets brand. you just couldn’t help but tear a small portion of your allowance out of your wallet for this treat alone.

you don’t know what your guardian would say— they’d either insist that you’re lying, or they’d make fun of you, and none of these options sound appealing.

you deflate, not having a good defense. “… a friend.”

they don’t seem convinced. nobody used a friend to refer to their actual friend. you mentally beat yourself over this simple mistake.

this only proves their point, “hmm, okay..”

there’s a beat of silence.

“i’m still expecting a picture.”

your heart rate picks up, and you can feel your veins be filled with anxiety.

and now you’re returning to the dorms, absolutely mortified— and it clearly shows on your face based on how your best friend, todoroki shouto, approaches you at the front door with a concerned look.

“you look.. distressed.” he notes out loud, as he opens the door.

shouto’s quick to help you get your shoes off, letting you lean on him as you undo your shoelaces. he pulls off each shoe afterwards— the action so casual.

“it’s because i am, shouto!” you exclaimed, following him in. “i did something stupid and now i’m paying the consequences of my actions!”

shouto’s two toned brows furrow, there’s a deep look settled on his pretty face— and he draws all his focus on you. “whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“i’m sure but, my ego! my dignity!” you groan, and your hands cover your face as if it’ll burrow you away from the embarrassment and transport you to a place of peace.

“i won’t laugh,” he says, an indirect way of saying that he won’t absolutely clown you for any of your decision making skills.

shouto then holds his pinkie up, waiting for you to take it. it’s a clear show that he’s intent. “promise.”

“sure,” you say as you link pinkies, the warmth of his pinkie making embarrassment creep up your neck instantly. “i trust you.”

you breathe in as preparation. “i bought chocolates for myself and my guardian thinks i have a boyfriend and is asking for a picture, so now i’m screwed because i don’t have a boyfriend in the first place, and i’ve told them that i don’t but they just don’t believe me, so i might have to get a fake boyfriend for a picture!”

all of it just spilled out at once. you aren’t even sure if shouto understood, let alone was able to comprehend all of it due to the lack of reaction.

but when you carefully examine— you realize that a reaction slowly shows on his face, like it just dawned on him the information you’ve dumped.

“fake boyfriend.” he echoes, “for a picture.”

“yes!” you groan, mortified of the other possible solution of the matter being slapped in your face again, “and they need to be tall, handsome, and apparently someone that looks rich— don’t know how a picture can prove that, we don’t even have jobs.”

“anyway, they’ll just criticize me for my choice in people.” you sigh, “i’m lost.”

he folds his arms together, and he unintentionally flexes. your eyes follow the movement for a short second before you realize that you cannot be caught gawking at someone you’ve met when you were both five. “it appears you are quite in a situation.”

“yeah..”

“if only there was someone available to help.”

“yeah—”

“someone close to you.”

“i figured— it’d be awkward to ask someone who i’m not really close with to be my fake…” you trail off, brows furrowing when you realize there might be some insinuation in his words. you can’t tell what he is necessarily eluding to— but,

you take a good look at shouto— an very good look. you size him up, and he allows this as he is basically standing politely. there’s a fixed look of stillness in every aspect of his expression, and he’s calm when he speaks,

“i could play the role.” he suggests like he doesn’t understand the weight of his words, or he doesn’t care that much about it.

you can feel your heart in your throat all of a sudden, and the beat of it is becoming painfully loud.

“shouto,” you somehow manage to get out, “they know who you are.”

your deep rooted history together as close friends would be seen as a plus point, if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve refrained from showing (let alone hinting) any sign of your feelings for him. shouto did the same, except you are absolutely sure he doesn’t want anything more than platonic with you— as he has displayed no such signs.

the sudden shift of events would raise more questions instead of just solving one.

besides, who doesn’t know him nowadays? he’s tall, good looking, strapped with money and a multipurpose and hella useful quirk. heck— his appearance during the sports festival was a huge thing and has definitely made a positive mark on his reputation.

additionally, it was hard for your guardian to miss someone with an alluring presence like shouto’s, and a head full of naturally snow-like, and flaming red hair.

you think carefully before coming up with something easy. “what if i just asked one of the girls to wear an oversized hoodie; and stand on a stool? i’d crop out their face, of course. kyouka or yaomomo could—”

before you were allowed to finish your thought, shouto continued to press on his idea. “i’d be the most preferable, since the backstory makes the most sense.”

you pause. you’ve never thought of an actual backstory for you too, and you couldn’t quite indulge in the self blame— you didn’t think he’d agree at all.

“childhood friends turned best friends, and with a bond that drew us together.” his gaze fleets somewhere below your eyes, and then he draws them back up— a small boyish grin now blessing his face. “besides, you’d be in quite some trouble if they asked for a picture of their face.”

oh, that description sounded way too close to home, so much that you forgot. now that shouto mentioned one, that solution does seem to have its loop holes.

“touché.” the lengths he’d do for you is admirable, and your heart would’ve stuttered if it weren’t for the dull reminder from the back of your mind, of what it’s really like between the two of you.

“so uhm, what now? do you want to take the picture right later or—”

“now would be good.”

“oh uh, okay then…” shouto never wastes time, even when it came to unimportant stuff it seems, and he watches as you shift around to find your phone.

getting your phone is something that never takes any time, but with everything being taken account for, your hands are starting to feel like jelly.

after opening your camera app and switching to selfie mode, you position your phone carefully. not just like a photographer that was about to capture a rare wild animal laying still, but also similarly to how people take pictures with celebrities.

you are cautious of the angle. although you’ve almost seen every single expression that he could make— you’re worried how you could make everything look good, make him look phenomenal. (although it seems impossible to make him look anything but)

you end up snapping a photo that’s majorly of him, and the only show of you being in the same frame was the very top of your head shoved to the corner of the screen.

the two of you stare at the photo, exchanging glances. you might think that this is enough, considering that this photo of shouto is nowhere on the internet. so— plus one for authenticity, sorta.

he’s not your real boyfriend, but your guardian won’t know that from looking at the picture.

“let’s do a retake.”

you nearly stumble, like his words were a gust of strong wind. “huh?”

“this photo.. doesn’t seem authentic. i wouldn’t know what it’d be like to be in a relationship but the couples on television look— different. don’t you think?”

you take another look at the photo. although the couples shouto is referring to are actresses and actors playing roles— he’s right for the most part. the distance between the two of you is hard to miss, nobody would be able to guess that you two were together.

not to mention, it’s more of a picture of him instead of the both of you.

“alright then,” you say in agreement. “any suggestions?”

“if i may.”

“of course you may,” you encourage.

“then…” he shifts, feet moving closer to you. “if you’ll allow me.”

shouto’s hands reach out, and you’re immediately drawn to them. although unsure about his next course of action, you don’t stop him as he pulls you close— hands with contrasting temperatures maneuvering the positions to his liking.

eventually, the two of you were positioned in a way that made you encase shouto in your arms and have you turnt slightly towards the camera.

the side of your faces are pressed against each other’s, and despite trying your best to stop it, the proximity had your heart thumping against your ribcage once again.

making sure you don’t prolong the ordeal more than you need to— you snap the picture and attempt to pick yourself up afterwards.

but shouto makes no effort in detaching himself from you, relaxing in your arms as he leans against you to view the picture. you feel yourself flustering again, and you just know that he could end you one day and be blissfully unaware of how and why.

although you just took a big risk that could possibly have your feelings found out— you were just as curious as he was to see the outcome.

and you two seemed like a couple indeed.

“thoughts?” you ask in place of allowing yourself to slowly pass away on the inside. your skin feeling increasingly hot all of a sudden, and you’re confident the boy beside you has nothing to do with it this time.

“just as i suspected.” a small smile pulls at his lips, “we look good together.”

your brain buffers, “huh?—”

and then, he’s pressing his soft lips onto your cheek— pulling back as quickly as he pressed his lips onto you.

you choke on practically nothing, and you stare at him with eyes so wide they rival saucers.

and then it started to make sense, “what— are you playing me?— you’re doing all of this for a picture i didn’t even take!”

he tilts his head, confused for a moment before letting out a disapproving noise. “i… was teasing at some point, but i would never play you. i even pinkie swore.” he said, holding the same pinkie he linked with yours earlier to prove his memory.

“so why… after all this time?”

his gaze sharpens, “why not?” he states simply, “i figured just recently that.. the feelings are mutual, and that you’re interested in the way i’m interested in you.”

he clutches you, shoving himself deeper in your embrace, “besides, there was no way i’d let you ask anyone else to be your pretend boyfriend when i’m right here.”

“it would be just for a picture though.” you note, slightly amused that todoroki shouto was jealous at the idea of having a pretend boyfriend for a picture— even if said pretend boyfriend were to be one of the girls from your class.

a specific blank expression is pinned onto his face. “still.” he replies, quite dryly.

though the expression immediately melts away as he says these next words, “now then,” gorgeous, gorgeous heterochromatic eyes meeting yours in a gaze. shouto holds it, and it seems that he’s taking advantage of his effect on you. he’s quick, not to mention— observant too.

“we should take another picture, one that’s much real.”

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