#a few more 'catch up' posts before we get to present time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

readychilledwine · 4 months

Text

Size Kink

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)

What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.

💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

As always NSFW below the cut

Azriel x short!reader

Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching

A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙

Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠

Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.

You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.

At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.

He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.

Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.

“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.

Offering to help you was a mistake.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.

He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.

It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.

Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”

You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.

The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.

Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.

Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.

He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.

You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.

And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”

He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”

He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”

That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”

You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”

You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.

You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”

The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.

You may have been biting off more than you could chew.

But fuck it.

You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?

You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”

“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”

That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.

You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.

Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”

He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”

You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.

He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.

He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.

Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”

He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.

He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.

He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.

Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.

He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.

A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”

You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.

It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.

“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”

You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”

Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.

A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.

Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”

“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.

Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #shadow daddy #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

763 notes · View notes

glow-worms-are-believers · 8 months

Text

Town Ghosts

Ok, so this is inspired by this post.

Danny almost lost his balance as he turned on Casper High’s street corner. Catching himself in the nick of time, he resumed his uncontrolled dash down the streets of Amity and finally made it to his locker just in time for the first bell to ring. As he looked up from his locker and noticed how sparsely populated the halls were, Danny frowned. First bell indicated they had 5 minutes before the actual beginning of class, and usually that meant a decent amount of stragglers were still chilling around.

“Damn it, do we have an exam?” Danny mumbled as he took out his phone to text Sam and Tucker.

Wheres everyone? He sent

Assembly, came the answer from Tucker to which Sam added, We saved u a seat

Danny didn’t bother answering and instead quickly gathered his things from his locker before hurrying down to the assembly hall. Everyone was talking which meant he wasn’t late, and he managed to catch Tucker waving him over. Danny maneuvered his way to his friends before sagging into the promised saved seat.

“I swear, if Boxy wakes me up at 2am again to rave about packing peanuts one more time I will put him in Soup Time for a month.”

Sam winced. “Rough night, huh?”

Tucker patted his shoulder in commiseration.

Danny closed his eyes. “At least tell me assembly is taking Lancer’s period?”

“We still have half of it afterwards,” Tucker answered.

Before Danny could groan, the teachers started shushing the crowd. As he looked up to the shoddy stage, Danny could see a blonde woman wearing all black.

“Nice boots,” Sam whispered.

“Hello everyone,” started the woman on stage. “My name is Black Canary, you may know me as a member of the Justice League.”

At that Danny sat up straight, suddenly way more aware. Simultaneously, a wave of whispers started amongst the crowd which was quelled by the numerous teachers shushing everyone. Once silence had been more or less reestablished, Black Canary started again.

“I am here as a spokesperson in our efforts to raise awareness about discriminations against meta humans. This initiative started as a personal project of a lot of the founding members of the Justice League. Did you know that recent studies that show that violence against meta humans is disproportionately more frequent than violence against baseline humans? In fact-”

And one she continued for the next half hour, after which she had some students distribute some pamphlets with different phone numbers on them. There was a little more time dedicated to a few exercises and a video of a testimony from a former meta human criminal. As the presentation progressed, Danny started relaxing more and more, to the point that he was half asleep when time for questions was announced.

“What about ghosts?” Paulina’s voice came through the mic the teachers had passed around, “Are they covered by all those fancy laws you mentioned?”

And yep, Danny was fully back to being awake now.

“Ghosts?” repeated Black Canary, in an even tone but before Paulina could answer, another voice cut through the room.

“Ghosts aren’t people, Paulina.” Valerie’s voice came through sharp and clear.

Paulina’s eyes narrowed in on her former friend. “Says who?”

“Says science!” Valerie exclaimed. “Though I shouldn’t expect a Phantom groupie to understand that.”

“You’re just jealous.” Paulina flicked her hair dismissively.

Danny sank into his seat as he tried to block out the very public argument happening in front of him. Black Canary seemed to be observing the exchange with curiosity, while the teachers were trying to reach Paulina to get the mic out of her hand. There were a few students with their phones out, filming the whole debate and Danny would bet it would be on the school forum by the end of the day, probably sparking yet another Phantom debate.

Just then, as if it wasn’t enough, Danny could feel his ghost sense activating. As he turned his head, he caught a green shimmer at the edge of his vision zooming past the window.

“Come on,” he mumbled. “Gimme a break.”

“Do you want backup?” Sam asked.

“I got it,” Danny grumbled. “Cover me.”

“For sure, dude,” Tucker answered.

Danny stood up and shimmied his way down the rows of chairs to a teacher with Paulina and Valerie still arguing in the background. When Danny reached the nearest teacher he asked for leave to go to the bathroom and by was granted it after which a teacher finally managed to get the microphone away from Paulina. As Danny walked out of the room, he could hear Black Canary’s fading voice asking a question as he got further and further away.

“What do you mean by 'ghosts'?”

#black canary #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #valerie gray #paulina sanchez #I don’t know how to write black canary so here’s for a first try!#roxpox #roxpoxwrote

818 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 4 months

Note

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #furina x reader #navia x reader #lynette x reader #furina genshin #navia genshin impact #lynette genshin impact

606 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 26 days

Note

Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️

We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: mentions of smut

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind.

A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.

“White? You sure about that?”

You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.

Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.

“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”

The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.

“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”

“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”

“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”

The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.

“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.

“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”

As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye.

“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”

You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.

“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.

“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.

Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.

“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”

The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.

“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”

Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains.

Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her.

First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.

“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”

With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces.

“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s less than a month away.”

“But still.”

“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.

“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”

“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”

You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.

“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”

Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.

“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”

“Teach me your ways.”

Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.

Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.

“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.

“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.

“Hell yes,” Jess agrees.

“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”

It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.

“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.

“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.

“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”

Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.

“In a good way?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.

You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.

“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.

“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.

New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” you say.

“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”

When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Whatcha got?”

“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”

Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.

“How long ago did they pick them up?”

A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”

“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.

“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed.

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #request

213 notes · View notes

scoobydoodean · 6 months

Text

#okay wait do y'all think that she wasn't going to try and murder Dean?#Do you think he was going to get through to her?#convince her somehow to not try to stab him?#that she was telling the truth at all in that scene?#because she was totally going to try and kill Dean#like 100% that was going to happen#and if Sam hadn't shot her then Dean would have had to kill her and that would have been so much harder on Dean#like it was disturbing that Dean had a 3 day old monster child that wanted to kill him but who was then killed by her uncle Sam instead#and even more disturbing that they then never mention her again#but these are also the guys who left their half brother in Lucifer's cage and didn't lose any sleep over it so...#and I love Dean but killing Amy was an asshole move#and there's kinda a difference between killing an active imminent threat and killing someone in cold blood after the fact @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

I didn't want to clutter someone else's post but this was partially directed at me? I've talked about the whole "Emma vs Amy" debate quite a few times, but I'll share a few thoughts.

Amy is a present, unrepentant, fully cognizant, adult, serial murderer. She is not actually sorry about what she did in any way. She believes that slaughtering humans like cattle to feed them to her son was the morally correct action even if it wasn't the ethical action because it kept her son alive. She is not correct.

Emma is a brainwashed child who's been psychologically conditioned for a few days. She has never killed anyone and only wants to kill Dean because some women who abused her told her to.

Hunters like Sam and Dean primarily deal in punitive justice, not preventative justice—and what I mean by that is that Sam and Dean try not to kill people (with powers or without powers) who have never killed anyone.

While I think you're right to point out that a preventative justice component is in play, that is not primarily how Dean makes the decision to go after Amy, and the reason we know that is because Amy's son swears to kill Dean and Dean does nothing about it because the boy has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Dean's application of his personal code is consistent here. He kills Amy, who is a murderer who killed four people, but he does not intend to kill Emma or Amy's son—both of whom wanted to kill him—because neither has actually killed anyone and both may choose not to.

You say that Emma was going to kill Dean 100%, but you don't actually know that because we never got to see that future. You assume Amy would never have killed again, but when you add up "murderer who regrets absolutely nothing" and "child vulnerable to catching illnesses" you get "Mom who absolutely would kill again as necessary and who would feel zero remorse doing so just like the last time".

I don't personally think SPN gives us any reason to suspect that three days of psychological conditioning from a cult is too much to overcome. We have seen other characters overcome much more serious levels of psychological conditioning intended to make them killers. For example, Cas and Alex. I'm not saying Emma wasn't trying to pull the wool over Sam and Dean's eyes in the scene where Sam shot her, but I am saying that doesn't actually mean in any way that she couldn't be convinced to actually choose a different path.

Under the same litmus test with which you suggest Emma's condemnation, we'd also condemn season 2 Sam for his potential "future" crimes. We are killing monsters before they actually become those monsters... because of the dark path someone else intends for them to go down. Amy—again—is an active present unrepentant serial killer.

I think sometimes people misremember the scene where Sam kills Emma—recalling the scene as a scene where Emma lunges at Dean with the knife and Sam steps in just in time to save his life, or where Dean is unarmed and Emma has him at knife point. But that is not what happened. Emma quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. Dean had a gun pointed at her, and if she was thinking straight at all, she would have left to avoid being killed if given the chance—especially when Sam arrived. And had she not, Sam could have shot her at that point—but Sam didn't wait to see what she'd do. He wanted her dead, because even if she ran, he didn't think they were equipped to deal with surprise attacks from Dean's Amazon child. That is the decision Sam made after a brief moment to consider, and it makes sense to me given the headspace he was in at the time and his assessment of Dean's headspace as well, but it does not make his decision consistent with his previous or future behavior regarding people who have been psychologically conditioned to kill.

My own frustrations are more with fandom, for a thought process that really really does not make sense to me, where Emma deserves to die but Amy deserved to live. I do not agree with that premise. I do not understand why so much of fandom has the perspective that a child who hadn't shed a drop of blood and who was acting in response to a cult's torture, who brought a knife to a gun fight and had already been driven into a corner where she had no choice but to surrender or run—doesn't deserve a chance to choose something else before she's barely lived and before she's heard a loving word in her entire life, but an adult with full cognizance of their actions who went through with killing four people and doesn't regret it should go on with their life and is "just a good mom doing what she had to" and killing that person is the bad thing. I don't understand that. I don't think Dean killing Amy was wrong at all in the "hunters kill supernatural murderers" show. The only thing Dean did wrong was lie about it and not take enough care to keep her son from seeing it happen.

#sams moral compass #deans moral compass #7.03 #7.13 #edit: I'll also be honest while I get where you get the “Sam wanted to spare Dean having to do that” interpretation #(especially with the earlier context of their fight in The Mentalist) I actually think... Sam makes it pretty clear after in the car #that he is furious Dean didn't stow his shit and shoot Emma before Sam even got there. 😬#season 7 #emma #amy

278 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

Text

Keith presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and exhales deeply. He lets all the air trickle out of his lungs until his chest feels concave, until spots dance behind his closed eyelids, until his lips start to go numb. Then he lets go and lets the air get sucked back into him like a vacuum.

“One more try,” he whispers to himself, conscious of Lance sleeping — finally — beside him. “One, and then we move on.”

He swipes the touchpad on his computer to wake it back up, dragging the blinking curser over the rarely-used blue ‘10’ under the Google logo. The page loads, and loads, and loads, and finally spits out the next few results.

Most of them he’s already seen before. Dozens of times. BARGAIN BALLET TICKET SUBSCRIPTION, reads one link, CLICK HERE FOR 20% OFF YOUR FIRST MONTH. Another reads, Rush Ticket Prices — Buy Now!

He’s been there. Clicked that. Priced it out. Looked at the worst possible, next-to-the-washrooms, garbage seats. Nothing. Not a single ticket within their limited budget — or even close to it.

Completely out of the realm of possibility even if they hadn’t agreed on a price limit for their Christmas gifts.

He keeps scrolling down a few pages that all advertise the same thing — a disgustingly costly subscription here, bargain-but-not-really tickets there, more scammy resell ads than one would believe possible. Even, notably, a still-active link from 1997 that Keith peruses for clicks and does not actually count towards his one-more-try limit. (It even tries to accept his Paypal, which is crazy and means that someone updated the site to accept modern payment for a show that is no longer running. Keith is so amused by the pure audacity that he has to fight the urge to buy one. Wild thing, ADHD.)

Just as he’s about to give up and buy his boyfriend yet another plant this year, a link catches his attention. It’s the very last result on page 13, with no description, no punctuation, hell, hardly even a sentence of text. Nutcracker ticket sales, it reads, for a website called ‘FeuillesBrillantAcademie.org’.

Keith shrugs. Might as well. Not like anything else has been promising.

He clicks the link and immediately wishes he hadn’t. The ugliest website he’s ever seen literally assaults his eyes — a bright blue and a neon purple, clashing in the worst possible way. It takes at least four solid seconds for his eyes to unblur enough to recognise the screen in front of him as having words rather than a solid wall of Bright And Bad. Even then, he has to squint, glasses practically touching his eyeballs.

Feuilles Brillant Academy is pleased to present the final performance of the hard-working dancers this season, is what he can finally make out. The show begins at 7 p.m. on December 23rd, tickets for $20 per person. In-person payment not accepted. Please pay via e-transfer using the link below. Call out administrative office if there are any difficulties.

Keith stares at the page for as long as his eyes can handle, then he looks up at the ceiling. (Where, he may add, he can still see the screen perfectly, because the damn thing has been burnt onto his retinae. He will never mock Matt for his web design degree again. Well, probably.)

This seems…too good to be true.

It’s outrageously cheap, for one. Keith has been looking for literal days and the cheapest he’s managed to find is $50 per person, for bad rush tickets. $20 is bonkers. For two, this is a perfect time, and nearby, as well. And there are still tickets left. Somehow.

Something is amiss.

Keith’s first thought is that it’s a prank page. But the page is buried so deeply — page thirteen of Google. The hidden archives, basically. If this is someone’s prank, it’s garbage. His second thought is that the link is a virus, which, while possible, is still kind of unlikely for the same reasons. Why on Earth would someone post something nefarious so obscurely? It doesn’t make sense. This might be one of those rare times when something isn’t too good to be true, it’s just good.

Then again. Keith just got his laptop back from the last time he fucked around and well and truly Found Out.

Time to get a second opinion.

Despite the disgustingly late hour, the phone picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, stinky,” says Pidge. Keith can hear the smile in her voice as clearly as the explosions and gunfire of Call of Duty in the background.

“Asshole.”

“Turd for brains.”

“Skidmark.”

“Rotting splatter of parking lot vomit at three in the afternoon in Arizona during high summer.”

“…Pidge, that’s disgusting.”

She snickers. “I win.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith freezes as Lance stirs next to him, curling his arm around Keith’s bent leg and muttering something in Spanish too fast for him to understand. Keith smiles, tucking a stray curl back under his fluffy frog-eye hairband, lingering over the scar on his temple from a skateboarding accident when they were fifteen. “I need your help.”

“Well, obviously. You’re calling me at three thirty four in the morning. Usually you’re in bed by nine because secretly you look up to Adam and emulate his habits.”

Keith flushes. “I don’t remember ordering a psych analysis, fucker.”

“Consider it a bonus! Tell Auntie Pidge about your troubles.” He can practically see the face she makes immediately after, and snorts. “Ignore that. My mouth is not attached to my brain. Carry on.”

“I need you to check out a link,” Keith says, choosing to be merciful. “It’s pretty buried and obscure, but honestly I think it’s fine —”

“Yeah, last time you thought a link was fine you fucked your shit up so bad I had to download another virus to cancel it out. I’ve never had to do that before. You fucked your laptop up so bad I’d actually never seen that kind of damage before, Kogane. And I do this for a living.”

Keith pouts. “No, you commit cyber crimes for a living.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m an angel and have never gotten so much as a speeding ticket. I am a law abiding citizen. Send over the link.”

Switching his phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, Keith does. “I need to know if the link does what it says it does.”

Pidge hums. He can hear the ding of her laptop as his e-mail goes through, and then the sounds of her clicking as she inspects the website, running it through her various programs that Keith cannot fathom for the life of him.

“What did you say you were looking for, again?”

Keith closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting it thunk gently on the thin wall under the big window, in the corner of the apartment where they’ve shoved their bed. He lets his eyes go blurry, lets the stars they stuck on the ceiling before they did anything else turn into bright green dots. They’re real constellations. The two of them spent hours on them; Lance on Keith’s shoulders, tripping and shouting and laughing.

“I need tickets,” Keith says quietly. He turns his gaze slowly to Lance, who is sleeping soundly again, who has bags under his eyes, whose hands twitch every few seconds, who frowns deeply. “And we can’t — these are the only ones I could find. That I can even pretend to afford. I need it to be —” He swallows. “I need you to tell me they’re real.”

Pidge is quiet for a moment. The only sound is her breathing, her nail tapping slowly on the edge of her screen.

“The link is exactly what it says it is.”

Keith sits up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, man.”

Keith bites back a cheer so he doesn’t wake Lance up. Hell yeah! This is perfect! Exactly what they needed! Just — a little bit of luck. A little bit.

“Thank you, Pidge,” he gushes, hurrying to punch in his information. “Seriously.”

Pidge huffs fondly. “Okay, dweebus. Gross. Go be all affectionate somewhere else.” She pauses. “Take a picture when you tell him.”

Keith smiles. “I will.”

———

It takes every inch of Keith’s willpower to keep his mouth shut for a whole three weeks.

“I Know you are hiding something, Kogane,” Lance says while walking home from classes, while curling up into him as they watch TV, while cooking, while showering. “I see it in your face.”

“It’s nearly Christmas, you dweebus,” Keith says every time, and every time he softens it with an exaggerated kiss to Lance’s cheek, one to make him laugh despite himself and shove Keith’s face away. “Of course I’m hiding something.”

But it’s eating at them both. Lance’s blatant curiously makes it that much harder for Keith to keep things hidden, to stash the tickets between the pages of his corniest romance novel that Lance won’t touch with a ten foot pole. To wait, and wait, and wait, as they set up the three-foot high discounted Christmas tree and Lance changes their sheets to the flannel ones his mother gave them.

But the days pass. Finals come and go and so does the time. And finally, finally, it comes time to crawl onto the creaky mattress, knees on either side of Lance, nose kisses down his neck, and murmur, “We’ve got plans today.”

Lance groans. “No we do not.”

Keith smiles widely. He knows Lance can feel it, because he scowls harder, trying to hide his own fondness even as he melts into Keith’s affections.

“Yes, we do. I know. I planned them.”

“Well, then, un-plan them,” Lance grouches. He turns over so he’s facing Keith, now, trying hard to glare up at him, but late afternoon sunlight bleeds into his dark brown eyes and makes them shine golden, and they are as warm and bright as the rest of him, and his hands slide up Keith’s chest, over his shoulders, brushing through his hair, to rest on his cheeks. “Come nap with me.”

Keith turns his head to press a kiss to Lance’s palm, keeping his mouth there. Lance rolls his eyes, and can no longer hide his smile. “Later. I made plans. Dress up, I’m gonna pick us up some food for the way. We’ll leave in forty minutes.”

“Ugh.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, baby. I can see you eyeing the closet.”

“Shut up and get me a burrito.” He soothes the bite of his words by pulling Keith’s face closer to his, pressing their lips together softly. “Please.”

“Whatever you want.”

God, he’s whipped, and Lance knows it, because he grins, pleased, and pulls Keith even closer, kisses him stronger. It takes Keith a good five minutes to muster up the willpower to pull away, and Lance knows it, smirking.

He finally manages to yank himself away, stumbling backwards towards the kitchenette of their studio. Lance pouts at him.

“Menace,” Keith says sternly, deliberately turning away as he pulls on his boots and coat. He ignores his boyfriend’s grumbling and finally makes it out the door, hustling to their favourite bodega and hoping it isn’t too crowded.

Thirty-seven minutes later, burritos secured, Keith is shoving his frozen fingers around the door handle to jimmy it open. The bodega was indeed crowded and they are indeed late. The show starts in an hour. From what Keith remembers from Lance’s recitals — and he has been to many — people who are late are people who miss the show. The ballet does not fuck around with tardiness and disruptions; if you’re late, that’s tough shit for you. Plan better.

“You’re going to eat shit,” Lance says, amused, the fourth time Keith power walks right over black ice and nearly actually dies. “Slow down, babe.”

Keith does not.

“Can’t,” he huffs, keeping a half-eye on the pavement. A tourist walks into him, shoving him into Lance, who takes the opportunity to slide his hand into Keith’s back pocket and wink at him when his cheeks colour.

“Why can’t we slow down? Where are we going?”

“It’s like you don’t know what surprise means.”

“I do know. I also know that if I annoy anyone long enough they’ll snap so I’ll shut up.”

“Nah. I like it when you talk.”

He’d meant it as somewhat of a comeback, as a jab back to Lance’s teasing. But suddenly Lance stops, spine going rigid, something like shock flirting across his face for half a millisecond before he blinks it away and moves again. It happens so fast that Keith would almost be convinced he’d imagined it, except Lance’s cheeks are crimson.

Keith smiles. “Lance.”

“Shut up.”

“Babydoll.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m barely sayin’ anything, baby.”

“You are so fuckin — gay, you know that? God. Who fuckin — who says shit like that? Who on this Earth?”

Keith laughs, bending down to kiss right below Lance’s ear, to feel his flushed skin warm to frozen tip of his nose.

“You are so easily flattered.”

“Easily flatter this dick. How about that. Fuckin. Jerk.”

He lets Lance grouch at him, pleased and embarrassed about it, as he pulls them along the overcrowded streets. He checks his watch. Fifteen minutes ‘til the show starts, thirteen minutes ‘til they get there. Hopefully.

“Are we almost there? It’s cold and these shoes are pinchy.”

“I told you to wear comfortable shoes!”

“You told me to dress up! I can do one of those things, Akira!”

At the seven minute mark Keith starts running. Lance, surprisingly, doesn’t complain — a grin pulls at his sharp features, actually, and he wraps their hands together and runs faster, despite not knowing where they’re going. Every time they bump into someone in a suit he laughs. He laughs harder when they curse at him. Keith has to fight to keep his head in the game, to keep running, to not stop where he’s standing and watch Lance laugh for hours and hours and hours. It’s been too long.

He nearly pulls Lance’s arm out of his socket when he stops then abruptly, shouting “Here! Here! We’re here!” and pulling him inside a well-kept brownstone.

“Where’s…here?” Lance wonders, taking in the well-salted walkway and pretty red-and-green decorations all over the aged brick.

Keith doesn’t answer. “Close your eyes.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Keith makes his expression as wide and pleading as possible, and in seconds Lance caves, much to Keith’s satisfaction.

“You’re a pain in my neck.”

Keith kisses him quickly and chastely. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let me walk into anything.”

Satisfied that Lance won’t peek, Keith shuffles them over to the box office, holding out their tickets. The stewardess smiles at him, scanning them, eyes twinkling at Keith wordless plea for her to keep the secret, and gestures towards a grand set of doors.

“Up the stairs, to your left, seat and row on your ticket,” she murmurs. “Enjoy the show.”

Keith nods his thanks and rushes them off.

“This sounds very fancy,” Lance observes as their shoes click on the — literally marble, how the hell were these tickets $20 — floors. “Dangerously so.”

Keith shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“…Not to be. A bummer. But please tell me you remembered our budget, Keith.”

“I did, Lance. I swear.”

Lance relaxes into him, and Keith realises for the first time how tense he was. He winces to himself. He probably could have made things a tad less stressful and still kept the surprise. He’ll remember that for next year.

“Okay, good. I trust you.”

They barely make it to their seats in time. Keith’s butt barely makes contact with the cushioned chair before the lights dim and the orchestra starts tuning, the rest of the audience lapsing into almost immediate silence.

Lance inhales sharply. “Keith…?”

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Lance does, and they’re wide, and his mouth drops open, slightly, and for a moment he just stares, frozen, at the stage and the lights and the set, the familiar set, as the dim light casts shadows onto his face. The orchestra’s tuning note reaches its satisfying peak, harmonizing as one sound, and Keith’s full attention is on the lines of Lance’s face, the set of his jaw, the curves of his cheekbones.

“Merry Christmas,” he says quietly.

Before he can say anything else, before Lance can say anything else, the familiar sound of pointe shoes tapping delicately across the stage steals Keith’s attention. He turns his eyes to the stage, watching the dancers strut on the stage, and — stops.

He leans forward, squinting.

What?

Keith is…very familiar with the Nutcracker. He’s grown up alongside Lance’s family since he was eight years old. He’s been to more recitals than he can count. He’s been dragged to more performances than he can ever remember. Lance has lived and breathed and loved ballet his whole damn life, for the entire time Keith has known him, and that love bled well outside of the studio, has lasted even after he aged out of the program last year. Keith knows how the Nutcracker begins, and nothing about the program said this one was supposed to be any different.

Half of the dancers walking onstage are significantly shorter than they should be.

Now he knows damn well that there are kids in the Nutcracker. The main character is a kid. That’s the whole deal.

But there is not one adult on that stage right now. Hell, not even a teenager.

Keith looks down at the ticket — Feuilles Brillant Academy. He looks back at the stage. He looks at the other audience members — lots and lots of people with camcorders. And other small children.

Keith sinks into his chair, head in his hands.

His dumb ass bough a ticket to a children’s ballet recital.

Lord above.

“Lance, I am so sorry,” he whispers, “I was so caught up in the ticket being in budget I didn’t bother actually, like, looking deeper into things, this is totally — Lance?”

Keith leans forward in alarm, hands immediately falling on Lance’s knee, on his back. His shoulders shake and his hands are pressed to his eyes.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” Keith says desperately, embarrassment replaced with panic. Everything feels like it’s crashing down around him, as dramatic as that is. He’d been so excited for this. Now it’s a whole mess. “I didn’t mean to — fuck things up, shit, we can leave.”

Lance shakes his head. Blindly, he reaches over the grasps Keith’s hand, holding tightly. His own hand is damp from his tears.

“No, no, it’s — perfect,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I —”

His chin trembles, and more tears spill over his cheeks. As the music swells along to the climax of the first dance, Lance lifts the armrest separating their seats, half crawling over Keith until his head is tucked in the crook of Keith’s neck, arms folded between their chests, hands clutching at the fabric of his sweater. His voice is wet with tears and soaked in an emotion Keith can’t quite name, an almost — relief.

“It’s been so long. I didn’t want to — I thought I wouldn’t be able to do this again. I wouldn’t let myself think about it.”

Keith lets a huge, relieved exhale, sagging forward. He wraps himself more comfortably around Lance’s frame, squeezing him back, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.

Growing up has been…hard. For the both of them.

They’d been told by everyone who knew them that they were being stupid and reckless. Keith has been promised that they won’t last more than two years by almost every grownup he’s ever known. Even his own brother had sighed his trepidation when Keith told him, stubborn and bold-faced, that he was moving in with Lance, that they were going to start their lives together the second they pulled off their caps and gowns, that they were ready for the next step. That they were eighteen and ready to face the world.

“Sacrifices,” Shiro had warned, “are going to be half your life now. It’s not that I think you can’t, Keith. I just. There’s a reason people don’t move in with their highschool sweetheart they summer after they graduate. Katy Perry wrote a whole song about it. It’s a banger.”

Keith hates it when his brother is right, and this time he was right about so many things in consecutive order. Living on your own is hard. Learning to live with someone else is harder. Doing it in a city far away from home, while balancing school and work and rent and groceries, is the hardest.

“I miss dance,” Lance croaks, and Keith closes his eyes and breathes deeply and holds Lance tighter.

He knows Lance misses dance. He knows that he hasn’t so much as listened to a ballet since they moved to New York, unless it’s in the dead of night, and he thinks Keith is asleep, and he puts in his headphones and moves their furniture as silently as he can to the edges of their tiny ass studio apartment and laces up his falling-to-pieces pointe shoes and dances like the very act of it is tearing him apart, and cries the whole time. And then stashes his shoes in the bottom of his gym bag and crawls back into bed and pretends again in the morning that he left his pointes back in Arizona. And Keith looks away and lets him because school is already twenty thousand a year and in no shape or form can they afford that and money to rent a studio.

But Keith can give him this. For a little bit, maybe, even if it’s little kids with handmade costumes pirouetting across a stage.

“I know, bluebell.”

Lance exhales, shaky, breath ghosting across Keith’s collarbones, and finally turns back towards the stage, keeping tucked under Keith’s chin. The kids dancing as the Snow Queen’s ladies-in-waiting are — three years old, maybe. At most four. They keep twirling right into each other like clumsy little bumblebees. It’s maybe the cutest thing Keith has ever seen in his entire life, and what’s better is the tiny smile that graces Lance’s face, despite the tears, growing bigger every time one of them wobbles back up to their feet and prances on, oblivious.

They watch the rest of the play in silence, Lance hands entwining with his sometime around the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy and holding fast. They stand and clap as loudly as the gathered parents, louder even, at curtain call, as each kid jumps and twirls across the stage to thrown roses and cheering. It’s adorable.

They’re among the first to walk out, because the majority of the crowd surges towards backstage to collect their kid, so the walk is blessedly unrushed. They take their time, observing the pictures of grinning ballerinas that line the walls and numerous awards on endless shelves. Keith is filled with a deep and strong longing, a strange feeling of coming home — years of waiting on plastic chairs for Lance to finish solo practice when they were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Of taking his boots off at the door and quietly sneaking in the back of the studio, ducking away from other dancers’ boring stares, to watch Lance shine under the studio lights, reflected a thousand times by mirrored walls. Of the smell of lemon cleaner and polished hardwood floors and satin.

He notices a poster on the wall, among dozens of drawings and pictures of intricate sets, and freezes.

“Lance,” he says, tilting his head, “look.”

At the end of a hallway, right next to a door, is a hand-painted banner, reading: WE’LL MISS YOU, MISS RAULA! HAPPY RETIREMENT!

He squeezes Lance’s hand. “I bet they’re looking for a replacement.”

Lance stares at the poster for a long time. “You think?”

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to shoot them an e-mail.”

Smiling, Lance stops them in the hallway, puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders, stands on his tiptoes, and kisses him, long and sweet and loving.

“I’m already in a pretty tight spot now,” he murmurs, still standing so close to Keith and smelling so sweet that he has trouble focusing on his words, “‘cause this is already kind of the best Christmas gift ever. If that ends up being true I’m never topping you again.”

Keith laughs, suddenly, not expecting the turn, and Lance grins, pulling Keith down to him and kissing him again. It’s less of a kiss and more of a press of smiles, a clack of teeth, a shared laugh.

“I love you, Lance. Merry Christmas. I will be the Gift Giving King forever.”

“Shut up, goober.” He lifts Keith’s arm, tucking himself under it as they walk back out into the snowy December night. “I love you too.”

———

based on this post (third slide)

272 notes · View notes

novemberevenings · 4 months

Text

somewhere between the stars | chapter 1

Azriel is your best friend. The best, most brilliant, and dearest friend you have ever known. It gets harder and harder to separate your platonic and romantic feelings for him.

A/N: first chapter of this series!!! honestly wanted to write my own rendition of an angsty, mutual pining fic w my azzy <3 anyways this first part isn’t the longest but i’m posting it to motivate myself to write the next part!! (btw italics indicate a flash back!)

The night sky seems peaceful tonight, almost as if it were at ease. A chill night breeze brushes past, swirling in the soft grass in greeting. The branches of a nearby tree sway, the only sound being the soft caress of leaves. Lying with your head laid back against the grass, eyes closed in a mix of exhaustion and ecstasy.

At the feel of a soft, scarred hand brushing against your own, you open your eyes and tilt your head to the side. You’re greeted with a familiar and comforting sight. Your best friend's questioning gaze and furrowed brows make you quietly ask, “What's going on in that head of yours?”

It’s a phrase that you both have claimed as yours. When either of you needs to be dragged out of your thoughts, the other won’t hesitate to ask to ground you back to the present.

He’s quiet for a moment, trying to find the words that are jumbled up in his head. He turns to look at the sky once again before asking, “Do you think they’re watching us?”

“Who?” His question puzzles you, not quite understanding where it's coming from.

“The stars, the moon. I dunno, maybe the entire sky.” You’re used to his weird questions. It’s become a thing that you’ve got going on between the two of you. “If they are, I hope they don’t snitch on us.”

This earns you a light chuckle, his head slightly shaking from laughter. Realistically, the sight of two younglings watching the stars at night shouldn’t be a problem. But for a boy who has to wake up for training early in the morning and a girl who has to continue with her apprenticeship, they could get punished for being out this late at night.

“I like to think that they are. Watching over us, I mean.”

“Az, that’s kinda really creepy.”

He laughs indignantly, lightly shoving at your shoulder. It’s silent again, but you can tell he wants to say more, so you wait. “There’s just… so much out there, you know? It’s so big, and there’s so much we don’t know. I like thinking that, somewhere out there, someone’s looking out for us.”

You take a second to just marvel at the way he thinks. A sudden feeling of gratitude and pride washes over you at being one of the few people who gets to see this side of him. The side of him that’s bright and curious, hopeful.

You turn your head back towards the sky, looking at the stars and the empty spaces between them. Your best friend’s words are still in your head, trying to form an answer.

When you look back at him, you find his gaze already on you. He looks at you just like how he looks at the night sky, with reverence and utter devotion. It compels you to reply, “Well, regardless of who’s out there, I’ll always look out for you.”

He gives you a soft smile, the one that you’ve come to treasure and look forward to. “I’ll always look out for you, too.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tucked into a corner in the library at the House of Wind, your eyes roam over the page you’re reading. You were catching up on some old texts, brushing up on your knowledge of some spells. As the sorceress of the Inner Court, you always wanted to ensure you could protect your family.

A clock nearby chimes, and you poke your head out to check the time. It was almost time for dinner, but you still wanted to finish the chapter you were reading. Going back to your book, it wasn’t long until the doors to the library slammed open, surprising a couple of priestesses nearby, an arrogant General waltzing in looking to find you.

“You know, Cass, they expect silence in a library.” Closing the book with a resounding snap, you stand up from the cozy armchair you’d been sitting in, returning the book to its rightful place on a nearby shelf. “Lovely to see you too, my dearest Y/N.”

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at him but take the arm he’s offering as he leads you out of the library. The two of you exchange stories of the day, Cassian recounting training with the Valkyries that morning. You listen to him intently, but you stop in your tracks when he says, “Az is coming home tonight.”

“He is?” Your eyes widen as relief washes over you, not realizing how worried and tense you have been throughout the past week since Azriel was gone on a mission.

“Yeah, sent Rhys a message ‘bout an hour ago.”

At your look of shock and surprise, Cassian follows up with, “He didn’t tell you?”

You softly shake your head, dismissing him. “I’m sure he was just really busy with work. It’s fine, Cass. Nothing to worry about.”

Your soft, encouraging smile did nothing to ease Cassian’s worry, but he didn’t push on the subject.

There had been this rift growing between you and Az. Both of you had been quite busy with your duties, Az especially. But you can’t help but feel there’s something else that’s causing this, and you hate it. Your friendship with him is one of the best things in your life, and the idea of losing him was… devastating. You don’t think you would be able to survive it.

But you plan on fixing it as soon as he gets back. A simple conversation will fix this, you’re sure.

“Alright, come on then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was a calm night in the House of Wind. Everyone had gathered for weekly family dinner, and all was well. Everyone except for Azriel, that is.

To say you were tense and anxious would be an understatement. Even a blind man could see just how worried you were. While everyone else was lounging in their seats and sipping their glasses of wine, you sat with your back straight, hands fiddling with each other nervously.

“Loosen up a little, Y/N! Cauldron, you look like someone just killed your puppy.” You roll your eyes at Cassian’s teasing. Sometimes, you worry your eyes would be stuck at the back of your head whenever you’re with him.

“Oh, give her a break, Cass. We all know why she’s acting this way.” Mor says, trying to lighten your mood.

And it’s true. Everyone gathered around you knows exactly why you were so tense and worried. Despite Azriel sending you a message that he would be back tonight, your worry would not disappear until you saw him with your own two eyes, safe and unharmed.

It was no secret to anyone how close the two of you were. Best friends ever since you met each other in Windhaven. Your friendship was one of the constants in your life, forever a source of comfort. He was your closest confidant, the shoulder you could always lean on, the first person you celebrate the good news with, and the first person to wipe your tears away when you cry.

He wasn’t just your best friend. He was… your best everything.

You tried your best to enjoy the night, joking with your family and catching up on each other’s day. Although your worry wasn’t completely gone, the presence of your family always put you at ease, love pouring through every interaction.

“As I was saying, wing-warmers should totally be a thing. You don’t know just how much the cold affects our wings. I feel like an oversized icicle flying around the–”

Cassian stops mid-rant as a figure appears in the doorway. Everyone follows his line of sight at his silence, your head quickly snapping towards the doorway.

And just like that, a week’s worth of worry and anxiety melts from your body. The sight of Azriel in his leathers, all seven siphons gleaming, is one you’ve longed for.

“Az,” you sigh softly in relief.

“Hi,” he replies. That soft smile you think is reserved just for you spreads across his face, eyes crinkling a little at the edges.

That one word was all it took for you to fly out of your seat, running towards him at full speed. He catches you, bringing you into his warm embrace immediately. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms as tight as you can around his neck. In response, Azriel buries his nose into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist.

You pull back slightly, your arms holding his shoulders so you can better scan his body for any injuries.

At the worry in your face, Azriel asks, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You notice his attempt to lighten your mood and snark right back at him. “Nothing, just thinking about how much you stink.”

He lets out a chuckle, and you can feel his chest vibrate from your proximity. “And here I thought you missed me.”

You stay in his embrace for a little longer, feeling grateful that he’s returned unharmed, and take a moment to just look at him, reminding yourself that he’s back. A cough sounds from somewhere behind you. “Hello? Care to share him with the rest of us?”

Rhys’ impatient yet teasing tone makes you and Azriel laugh, pulling apart to let the other members of your family greet him.

You stand back, watching him embrace everyone else. Finally, you feel settled, like a part of you was missing, and now you’re whole again. You try your best not to think too much about what that might mean, wanting just to enjoy the fact that your best friend is back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#azriel/reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader

161 notes · View notes

alwaysonf1 · 1 month

Text

leak?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 740

Warning: N/A

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Dates and times don't matter.

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you see what’s trending right now?”

There’s a sigh over the phone and Iman feels bad, but not enough that her anxiety is subsiding or that she can apologize in the moment.

“Mon ange, it’s not even a good picture of us. Plus, would it be so bad?”

Yes, is on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t the truth. Iman had just hoped there would be more time before the world knew. She’s adept at handling the media frenzy because of how it was when the world found out she existed. But this was something so fresh and new. She didn’t want to have to share it with anyone.

“No, I just…”

There are no words that come to mind. Logic is returning to her brain and she knows she’s being dramatic. Next to K-Pop stans, Formula 1 fans are creepy good at detective work. And one is always going to be around no matter where they are.

Also, she wasn’t completely bothered. There was a part of her that took joy in speculating that they were together. That he was her’s. It just isn’t strong enough to make the biggest impact in her head.

Iman sighs.

“Let them speculate. We don’t have to confirm anything.”

Another sigh.

She knows that he’s right, but she’d deluded herself into thinking that things could be chill. For at least a month. Or a week. But she’d found herself attached to Charles’ hip no matter how in public they were. There was some hope that if anything were to leak it would be her getting her ass handed to her in volleyball by Logan. It was ego bruising because she’s the one who played it through high school, but it was better than this.

“I know.”

“Then why all of this? You knew it would come eventually.”

“Not this quickly,” she mumbles.

There is a sound on the other end that sounds like a scoff. Iman has picked up when Charles is calling her out on her bullshit.

“I mean I could post that video of you falling on your face on the beach. That would get everyone’s attention,” Logan chimes in.

Iman’s eyes narrow as she turns to look at him leaning against her door frame snacking on popcorn. Lewis stands behind him with the bowl of popcorn that he’s been eating from.

Both idiots think her reaction is funny and have been watching her as she fights not to go into a spiral. Lewis has made comments about how she wasn’t even this bad when things got intense with the media after their episode.

The urge to cuss them out presents itself, but Iman simply raises her hand with only one finger extended. Both of them react in faux shock and offense before falling into a giggling fit.

What she’d done to have this life she wasn’t sure, but goodness did it sometimes test her.

“Mon ange…”

“Huh?”

Charles laughs. “I asked what you wanted to do. I want what makes you happy.”

For a second, she sits with her lips pursed as she thinks about it. They could get it out of the way, but it is much too soon to be making those kinds of announcements. Even if they’re both sure about this, it feels much too fast. Though Iman has to be honest in admitting that sometimes things move at a different pace when you’ve had years of friendship. And there are a few recent thoughts she’s had that are much faster than admitting to dating Charles Leclerc.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“For now, at least. If they catch something else and it goes crazy, we’ll just admit it. Or after like a month.”

“Okay, but mon ange, I’m not going to change my mind about you.”

Breathing becomes hard and Iman is barely able to tell him bye as they hang up the phone. Her phone drops from her hand and she falls back to fully lay on her bed. Butterflies are how she’d describe what she feels.

Laughter starts. At a speed that could give whiplash she turns her head and glares at the two pains in her ass.

“Get out!”

A pillow sails through the air and hits Lewis square in the face. Logan is gone before the other one can leave her hand and Lewis isn’t far behind him.

“Lord help me,” she says, sighing.

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, and 45,628 others

logansargeant 2x national champ my ass.

comments on this post have been turned off

#charles leclerc x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

106 notes · View notes

midnightmoonytales · 1 year

Text

𝔽𝕦𝕟 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕒𝕜𝕖 | ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕝𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝔾𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

A/n: Pls bc writing for the Slytherin gang has itched a piece of my brain I didn't even know needed to be scratched. I'm addicted to it - headcanon and drabbles and all. (also omg another post - who am I)

No mentions of Gender :) Unedited

Summary: It's a hot day on Saturday in April; nowhere you go can you run from the heat. The only solution is a fun day at the lake with your friends.

<><><>

Almost everybody was inside today, minus a few stragglers who decided to either practice Quidditch or hang out by the lake. The heat made everything sticky, hot, and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, those who even resided inside were at the mercy of the April heat.

"It's bloody hot; why did we choose to come out here instead of the comfort of our freezing common room?" Pansy asked, fanning herself off with the Christmas fan her mother gifted her. The shade of the large willow tree provides you small bits of comfort from the blaring April sun.

Mattheo and Theodore could be found near the edge of the lake, rough-housing with each other, sweat glistening off their skin. A few feet to the right, Draco skips rocks across the lake in hopes of getting the Kraken to respond. Blaise was resting higher up in between the branches of the tree, enjoying a book he stole from the common room before you lot left. Taking your eyes off the boys and to a distraught Pansy.

"Would you rather be stuck elbow-to-elbow with some sleazy first-years?" You grumbled, grimacing at the thought of being stuck with a bunch of sweaty children in a compacted room. "Didn't think so!" You barked, the distraught look on Pansy's face as she imagined herself stuck in a horrid situation such as that, filling you with joy.

"Oi, Ferrett boy!" Mattheo shouted, taking everyone's attention away from what they were doin'. "Kraken ain't gonna waste its precious time skippin' some rocks." As if the Kraken heard him, a tentacle shot out of the water, catching a rock that Draco tossed, only to fling it straight at Mattheo's head, hitting him square smack in the middle of the forehead.

There was a moment of silence before everyone, except Mattheo, busted out laughing. Mattheo was leaning over, grabbing his forehead, which only made everyone else laugh harder. "That's what you get, you damn git; leave the boy alone," You hollered, holding your stomach as you leaned onto Pansy laughing.

"Why you!" Mattheo growled, running fast towards you, the look of a killer present on his face. (this is a skin of a killer Bella) A mediocre scream left your mouth as you bolted up, rushing away from Mattheo. You'd be damned if he caught you - Unfortunately for you, he did.

"Let me down, you oaf," You yelled, hitting his back as he rushed towards the lake. You had no intention of getting wet today. You were met with a rush of cold water, a yelp admitting from your lips as your body hit the water. Unluckily for Mattheo, you latched onto him, bringing him into the chilling water with you. "If I'm going down, you're going down with me," you said, tackling him as he trashed out of the water.

Maybe you all would have to come to the Lake more often.

<><><>

@ghostofscarley @devilishwitchfantasies

#slytherin gang x reader #hp fandom #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #blaise zabini

419 notes · View notes

undercoveravenger · 7 months

Text

Motivators

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Scientist!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “okay for the spooky request could you write Isaac lahey x scientist reader who doesn’t believe in the supernatural but they are hunting a ghost and reader and Isaac make a bet where if they do find the ghost reader owes Isaac a kiss or something”

A/N: This is the third fic in the 2023 Spooky Month event! The next post will release on Tuesday, October 24th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

While your best friend Scott McCall and his pack were no strangers to your lab, you still found yourself a bit on edge with Scott’s beta, Isaac. You had known of him before he was turned, and he had seemed nice enough the few times you had interacted with him, but there had always seemed to be something off, even after Scott had told you the truth about his friends. You weren’t sure exactly why Isaac made you so uneasy, but the weight of his eyes, whether glowing their infamous werewolf gold or his pretty every-day blue, was ever present and unreadable.

Even now, with the rest of the pack off investigating the most recent victim of a vengeful spirit, Isaac lingered, perched on one of the spare lab tables pushed against the wall and watching you intently.

“You didn’t have to wait here,” you say, ardently refusing to look at him, studying the strange glowing sample they’d brought you through the viewing lens of your microscope. “You heard Scott- He thinks he’s got a lead. You could’ve gone with him to check it out.”

A soft huff escapes Isaac and you can hear him shift behind you, moving from his seat on the opposite table to come lean against the one you’re working at. “No,” he says quietly, “I needed to be here.” He’s silent for a minute and you almost think to press him further when he continues, “I know you don’t need me to be here, but I need to be.” He clears his throat awkwardly when you look up at him, but he presses on, in spite of the thick blush clouding his cheeks. “I worry about you a lot when I’m not around you, y’know? Not just that you’re just a human, but that you’re you.”

You studied Isaac for a long moment, a sort of self-satisfied amusement creeping through you as he fidgets under your gaze, clearly having said more than he meant to and exposing his emotions in the process.

“You really think that you’re going to catch this ghost?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him.

He nodded, grinning shyly, “Yeah. With you and Scott working together to find it? No way we don’t.”

Whenever you’d caught Isaac looking at you in the past, the look in his eyes was always intense, but he was unreadable in the same way that the old Latin tombs that Allison had swiped from her family’s archives for you had been. But in the same way you had learned to decipher those ancient books, you were starting to see the meaning behind those lingering stares and Isaac’s looming presence. He’d never seemed malicious to you, not even before he’d joined Scott’s pack, but now you could see that determined distance for what it was.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your sample, but couldn’t stop the edge of your lips from quirking up as you spoke. “You find it and I owe you a kiss.”

While you were no longer looking at him, you could pick out the exact moment Isaac realized what you’d said since you could hear his sneakers squeak against the floor as he struggled to catch himself from falling. “I- I, uh, I-” he stammered and you could practically hear how flustered he was. “I’m- I’m gonna go call Scott and see if his lead panned out. Y’know, we uh, we really need to get rid of this ghost thing before it hurts someone else. We should- We should really do everything we can to catch it as soon as possible, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he hurried out of the room, and you laughed even harder when you were able to pick up the excited whoops echoing in from outside of your lab from Isaac and Scott over the phone line.

#isaac lahey x male reader #isaac lahey x male!reader #male reader x isaac lahey #male!reader x isaac lahey #male reader x teen wolf #male!reader x teen wolf #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf x male!reader #teen wolf x reader #reader x teen wolf #teen wolf reader insert #male reader insert #male!reader #x male!reader #x reader #x male reader #male!reader insert #male reader

215 notes · View notes

lushlovers · 1 year

Text

Ignored, J Burrow

summary; he's quite the hypocrite

warnings; joe still is an asshole what'd y'all expect, swearing, this is the stupidest argument but i would act like this too fr, the pettiest duo ever ong

word count; 900-ish

notes; ughhh i missed frat!lsu!joey so much omg. one of the few fics being posted as a thank-you for 400 followers! pls someone notice how they react similarly to each other with their actions when frustrated

This year, like the few before, Joe had convinced you to come to both of his frat's formals, for you it was a win-win, getting to dress up all pretty and seeing him all cleaned up in his fancy suit. He kept his arm secured on your hip, and both of you stepped out catching the eyes of everyone in the room, per usual.

Boredom has slowly settled in over the span of the few hours you've been here, staring at your nails and chatting with the extremely energetic girlfriends and dates of his fraternity brothers could only hold your interest for so long. "Can we go up to the room yet?" You mumble, trying not to make your growing impatience too obvious, and leaning into him with a pout present on your pretty face.

"Soon, babe," his response is short, obviously just trying to shut you up. You sigh, clicking your tongue, murmuring under your breath about going to get a drink. He barely has paid any attention to you at all tonight, nor did he say anything about the dress he ditched you to go shopping for alone. He swore up and down that he would take you to the mall, and you'd choose something together, but he opted out at the very last minute, simply venmoing you the cash for it.

It takes a lot out of you just to not scream at him to acknowledge your existence for two damn seconds, but no. Everyone, but you seemed to keep his attention this entire time. Your jaw is set tight as you fish your phone from your purse, finding yourself sitting alone and scrolling on your feed aimlessly as Joe continues to socialize.

Time passes slowly, but midnight's creeping up, you remember you both have a keycard on you which prompts you to slip out of the dining hall completely. As you make your way up to your floor you decide a text will suffice, maybe he'll see it, maybe he won't, and it's not your problem anymore.

angel🌟: i went back up.

Before you thought it couldn't get any worse, he somehow managed to piss you off even further. Read 11:54. May the Lord be on his side, that's one thing he never did to you, he knows exactly how you feel about that, you even went as far as to turn his read receipts off to avoid this feeling.

In the time it takes him to finish doing whatever the hell he's been doing all evening, you'd changed, gotten out of your makeup, and were tucked under the cover tightly. Assuring your back was turned to him as he made his way in and kicked his shoes off, "D'you have fun?" His question is followed by a long beat of silence, but he just assumes you're asleep and says nothing else.

After just a few short minutes of him entering the in-suite, he returns in an old t-shirt and basketball shorts. When he climbs into bed behind you and pulls you in close, you stiffen, making his grasp loosen significantly, "Were you like, intentionally ignoring me all night?" His brows crease and for a minute he just opens his mouth like a fish out of the water as he searches for an actual reason for the lack of interaction between the two of you.

"Not intentionally," he responds quickly to get you to be quiet for what seems to be the hundredth time today. The last thing you want is to be treated like the various girls whose feelings he plays with for his own amusement. Still, after tonight, you're severely lacking the cognitive ability to go back and forth with him tonight.

Your silence catches his attention, making the scrolling he was going on his phone come to a halt, "Are you gonna say anything?" In your head, you're screaming at him about how you're feeling, to say more than two words a sentence to you, but to possibly tick him off you bite your tongue and settle for a smartass reply.

A stifled laugh breaks the tension in the hotel room, followed by a snarky response, "Nothing to say." That does him in. Ironically being treated in the same way he treats others, receiving a taste of his own medicine. He slams his phone down on the bedside table, "I'm talking to you now and you're being short with me," another laugh escapes you at his hypocrisy and simply how childish he's acting right now.

The tone of voice you chose doesn't even change an octave when you decide to speak once more, "Now you know how I feel," you hum, turning over to face the sliding-glass balcony door. His jaw is set tight as he stares daggers into your back and you can feel them burning through your oversized t-shirt. Without saying anything else, he mimics your movements and turns over with his arms crossed over his chest, pouting.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow smut #joe burrow angst #nfl fan fic #nfl #nfl smut

729 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Deep

18+

Dom CEO Bucky x f reader

I have the worst flu rn, this entire post might as well be a fever dream. I sincerely apologize for this. This is nasty and filthy and there's no excuse for it. Shame on me.

We love our dom CEO Bucky

You loved your sexy Dom CEO husband.

The way he didn’t hold back on what he wanted.

Took pleasure the way he craved.

Shameless. No holding back.

It didn’t matter what position you were in; he was always in control even if you were the one pleasuring him.

Like right now.

He was spread out on the bed for you, the both of you stark naked while you pumped your fingers in and out of him, your other hand circling your clit. He’d been more stressed recently, craving to be over stimulated, edged, he needed more. So much more.

“Angel your fingers are gorgeous baby but s’not enough, need more, I need a fat cock up my ass”

He groaned, letting his head lull to the side, spreading his legs wider for you. He knew exactly what he needed and he knew his angel would take care of him. You let out a strained moan, your eyes locked with his, his eyes hooded and heavy with lust. His lips were parted, letting out soft moans and grunts each time you plunged into him.

“Tell me more daddy” you whine, pussy drenched watching Bucky lose himself to the pleasure he wanted.

“Need a thick cock to fuck me, want it to hit my g-spot baby”

You could feel your clit throb, rubbing yourself furiously, the spot under where you were kneeling soaked with your slick.

“Just like how my cock hits that little spot inside you angel, the one that makes you scream, S’what I want baby, fuck I need it”

Your thighs squeezed together, watching Bucky's chest rise and fall, deep moans slipping past his lips as you curled your fingers as best as you could, dipping your head and taking his length down your throat.

“YES M’gonna cum baby, gonna cum with those pretty fingers inside me, don’t stop” His hips lifted off the bed, rocking and fucking your face while moaning at the feeling of your fingers trying to push deeper inside.

“Yes baby, fuck yes, curl your fingers baby, go as deep as you can-shit-right there sweet heart, so sensitive, fuck I need a cock baby, m’gonna cum!”

“UUGGH FUCKKK” His cock throbbed in your mouth, filling it to the brim until it was dribbling down your chin. You licked him clean while he groaned and twitched, his ass still pulsing when you gently pulled your fingers out. He pulled you to his chest, allowing himself to catch his breach before rewarding you for his mind shattering orgasm.

He felt good.

Like he was floating.

But he wasn’t lying when he said he needed more.

He’d get what he needed.

A few days later

“I got us a present sweets”

Bucky pulled out a black box, setting it on the bed while you crawled over, setting down the book you were reading. You gasped as you opened the box, your stomach clenching already; inside was a strap on, long thick and girthy, made from a smooth material, completed with veins and ridges.

“It-it’s so big daddy” You whispered, nearly drooling at the thought of him taking its entire length. You knew he wanted to get pegged for a while but you had no idea how much he was willing to take. Until now. “Big like you”

“Mhm, I know princess, remember I said I need a fat cock baby” He smirked, grabbing your ankles and yanking them so you were laid flat on the mattress while he rested on top of you “I’ve had a long day angel” He rolled his hips against your panties letting you feel his aching length strain against his pants. “Take care of daddy”

You nodded, squirming from under him so you could sit up and rolling him over and straddling him. You took his clothes off one by one, your thighs squeezing together looking at his perfect naked form, his hands resting under his head, loving how flustered you looked. You took your clothes off before strapping the toy in place, it felt heavy between your legs, bobbing as you crawled back on the bed.

“Don’t by shy sweet heart, its just me” He whispered, smirking while he lifted his legs and spread them apart for you. You spread his thighs further apart, letting your tongue glide up and down his length, taking his balls in your mouth before pressing sloppy kisses lower and lower. As soon as your tongue hit his tight ring of muscle, you both moaned, his ass clenching already.

“Daddy’s tight hole tastes good” You whispered, flexing your tongue so you could breech his hole, loving the deep groan that slipped past his lips.

“Mmm, do I Angel? I love that pretty tongue baby” His hand threaded through your hair, gently guiding your face, your tongue sloppily flicking and pushing into his ass while your nose nudged against his balls. One you got him wet enough, you reached over for the bottle of lube, smearing it all over the toy before tapping it against his ass.

“Ready daddy?” You peeked up at him thought your lashes, your body buzzing with anticipation. Bucky gave you a cocky smirk, loving his sweet innocent doll carefully holding onto his thighs, wanting to treat him as gently as possible.

“Go a head baby” Bucky lifted his hips up for you, his eyes boring into your naked form as you guided the fake cock to his ass, the blunt top prodding at his hole. You hesitated, pushing into him slowly, watching his eyes roll back as soon as the tip was inside.

“Fuck yessss, mmmm, God m’already so fucking hard princess, go on, fill my ass with your cock baby, look at how hard my dick is”

You pushed the strap on slowly, inching your way in until you were fully sheathed inside him, the look of pure pleasure and relief washing over his face. He reached down, giving himself a few gentle tugs with his metal hand while the other still rested under his head; he’d never felt more satisfied in his life.

“M’I going okay?” You hesitantly began to move, speeding up slowly when you saw his face contort with pleasure. Bucky’s eyes were closed, he felt like he was floating, shamelessly moaning and playing with his cock while you thrusted into him.

“Doing good for me baby, that’s it, fuck daddy’s ass” You started to feel comfortable in your rhythm, rolling your hips more so you could push the strap on in deeper. You smiled to yourself, hearing the way he moaned louder for you each time, his head thrown to the side, nearly biting down on his own bicep. “Oh fuck, yes angel, harder angel, give me your cock princess”

You pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into him, making him cry out, his hand gripping the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming to soon.

“Yes baby, long hard strokes, want to feel you deep inside me” You moaned, watching your husband squeeze his cock, biting down on his lip, taking every bit of pleasure you were giving him. Bucky let out a low chuckle, listening to your slutty little sounds as you pounded him, beads of precum starting to dribble from his tip down his shaft.

“You like this, huh baby, love splitting my ass open while making daddy’s cock leak, c’mere clean that off for me” You slowed your movements, staying still while buried deep inside him. You dipped your head down as best at you could while he held his stiff throbbing cock up for you to suck.

“Go so good doll. nurse on my cock baby, you like that? You like how wet daddy gets for you? Suck my tip princess, m’so sensitive right now baby, can feel your cock on my g-spot”

You managed to get your lips around the head if his cock, swirling and flicking your tongue across his slit, prodding it, making his body jolt from the sensation. He groaned, chasing more of your mouth while the strap on still rested inside him.

“Your perfect princess, making me feel so good” Little spurts of precum continued to fill your mouth; you made sure you swallowed every drop each time he throbbed.

“You’re so messy daddy” You pulled off him to catch your breath, licking your lips while his cock throbbed against his abs. Bucky smirked proudly, bringing his hand down to roll and tug his balls while keeps his eyes locked with yours, he knew you had a bigger mess between your thighs, he could smell how wet you were.

“I know angel, can’t help it, you make daddy wanna bust so bad” Your eyes nearly rolled back watching Bucky hold his thighs apart for you, his lip caught between his teeth. You started to move again, this time hardly pulling out and keeping him as full as possible, snapping your hips against his ass. Bucky groaned with approval, his eyes trained on where the fake cock disappeared inside him, his breaths getting deeper, loving the way his cock bounced with each thrust. His filthy mouth become more salacious with each thrust”

“You make my cock feel so good baby, its so swollen, so hard, never felt it get this hard before princess”

“Make my ass sore baby, daddy needs it, don’t hold back baby, pound and fuck my ass as deep as you can”

“M’gonna cum buckets for you babydoll, gonna make me cum so hard with a nice cock in my ass”

“C’mon, make daddy cum angel, use my hole baby, that’s it, use daddy’s hole” His voice was breathless, trying to hard to maintain his composure while you railed him as best as you could, gripping onto his thighs, your nails digging into his meaty flesh. The gentle sting only added onto how close he was to cumming, his eyes rolling back. “M’gonna fuckin bust baby, fuck I needed this bad, feels so good”

“T-tell me what you needed daddy” Your voice was a whimper, struggling to keep your pace up, feeling his ass grip the toy tighter. A faint smirk flashed across his lips, his nerdy princess loved hearing him beg and plead,

“Daddy needed a nice fucking fat cock baby, needed my angel to fill me and make me feel good. Needed it to fuck me deep baby, to kiss my g-spot over and over again”

you nearly sobbed, fucking him as deep as you could, focusing on keeping up the perfect angle, thrusting as deep as the toy would go.

“Your perfect princess, gonna make me cum without even touching myself” Bucky’s heart started to race, he could feel pleasure bloom deep within his body, different than any other orgasm he’d had before, his entire body quivering. “Right-YES FUCK RIGHT THERE” Bucky's back arched off the bed, unable to control his moans anymore. His hands gripping his ass apart as far as it would go, his moans loud and deep, not giving a fuck how loud he was getting, mixes of sobs and cries finding its way in between his orgasm.

“Fuck I needed this bad baby, hitting daddy’s spot just right, HERE IT COMES HNNG FUCKKK Y/N” You nearly sobbed watching his cocky bounce each time you fucked into him, thick streams of cum exploding onto his tummy and chest. You had never seen so much cum, watching it drip off the sides of his rib cage, dampening the sheets.

“Oh god don’t stop till my cock is empty angel” Bucky whined from under you as you slowed your thrusts to a slow grind, his cock still jumping and throbbing. “Almost empty baby, come here and taste me angel, lick up the last few drops for me”

He hissed as you pulled out, whimpering when he felt your soft tongue suckle on his now flaccid cock, his sensitive head still leaking.

“Thank you baby girl” he whispered as you cleaned him just how he liked, your tongue dragging around his body, moaning at the warm cum that covered his skin. A wicked smirk flashed across his face again as he felt your tongue suck the cum off his nipples.

“Come here baby, wanna know how I taste” He grabbed your hair, shoving his tongue past your lips, the both of you moaning at the taste of the warm cum that coated your mouth. “Don’t be greedy sweet heart, spit in my mouth, there's enough cum for both of us”

You hesitated, running your tongue to collect more cum off his body before coming up and gently spitting in his mouth.

“That was perfect baby” He gave you a dazed look before his eyes darkened, pulling you up to sit on his face. “Let me take care of you now doll”

Tags:

@glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @carrotfantasimp

1K notes · View notes

trlvsn · 1 year

Text

phoenix wright making apollo justice present forged evidence is, as rightfully rage-inducing as it is, also perfectly understandable and even justifiable to an extent. in this essay i will not cut my introduction off with an old-fashioned tumblr punchline and will actually elaborate on why i think so and what i think about phoenix wright in general.

the first few paragraphs will be rather surface-level, but bear with me: i'm writing this in one breath. it has already been established that the change in phoenix's character was so big and shocking that the fandom is still actively discussing it and making theories. i have seen people compare his sprites with mia and diego, kristoph and miles, yanni yogi and many others, and every single on of them is, in in my opinion, correct: there are actual similarities between them, intentional or not. i believe it can all be explained with two simple statements. one: phoenix is a sponge of a man. even before aa4, we frequently see him adopt mannerisms and figures of speech from the people he encounters. he learns, he absorbs, he changes, but only for a short while, as he stays true to his motivations, passions and drive. two: the seven years of being watched by kristoph and collecting data made him turn to that mimicking quality of his and use it as a weapon. phoenix wright could not afford to reveal his true motivations, therefore, he could not reveal what he was in general. it's a simple metaphor, really.

did he get lost in the deceptions somewhere along the way? absolutely. "what tangled webs we weave when we practice to deceive", a line said by him about kristoph, can easily be applied to phoenix. this is where the bloody ace comes in. incidentally, he is given the idea by zak: he is the one who says one can't win unless there's a ace up their sleeve, and, no matter how much of an influence that particular phrase had on wright, he follows the principle. here is phoenix's first motive for forging the ace: insurance. without concrete, dooming evidence, a trial could not end in his favor at the time. phoenix wright, post-disbarment, is no longer a man who relies on bluffs and "just believing in the client", he is strongly dissapointed in the system, outraged, offended, hurt, wounded, and he does not trust it at all, hence the dirty tricks. you can't just play fair against something unfair and win.

what i find far more interesting however, are his other motives. if the only thing that drive him to forgery was distrust and carefulness, he would have shared the plan with apollo or, perhaps, done something similar to the turnabout succession trial, where the letter is shown to the culprit, but never submitted as evidence and quickly admitted as a fake. really, i believe he is smart enough to find other ways. however, he doesn't. he gives the ace to apollo in a very specific way: through trucy wright, not a word of proper explanation. why is that? he is teaching apollo a lesson.

clearly, something about apollo reminds phoenix of himself. a young, bright, nervous mind, fighting for the truth and justice, full of belief, a little naive. phoenix knows what that naivety cost him, and he destroys it right away, because then it will hurt less, he thinks. the forged ace is a vaccine of sorts: you will experience some minor symptoms, but no actual serious consequences, and it will hurt for a moment, but for the rest of your life, you will never catch that sickness again. phoenix is already planning the jurist system reform and has already planned how this trial will go: the environment is controlled and safe for apollo, he will not get disbarred. if the truth is revealed later, under the new system, surely apollo won't be receiving the same harsh punishment wright did. so here you go, kid, learn your lesson, punch a lawyer or two in the face, and never ever, ever trust anyone like that ever again.

but wait, if the truth does get revealed, who will be receiving the punishment for it? of course, the man who forged the evidence, phoenix wright. here comes the third reason: punishment.

remember the class trial? young phoenix wright, blamed for a crime he didn't commit, overwhelmed and crying. what does the abandoned child do when the whole class accuses him of stealing? he stands up slowly and comes up to the kid with the grey hair to apologize for the money he stole but did not steal. he admits it. it doesn't matter what the truth is anymore, because if everyone thinks you did it, you might as well have.

you might as well do it again, for real this time, and maybe a weight will fall off your shoulders, because what you see in yourself will finally match the image the whole world has of you.

phoenix wright is working on the jurist system. phoenix wright is a father and phoenix wright is someone who will do his best to put kristoph gavin to jail. that doesn't mean phoenix wright sees any other use or future for himself. it simply does not matter. well, by the end of the first case, anyway.

he gathers more evidence. he thinks, a lot. he gives apollo advice on the cases, inevitability reminiscing. the new system is a success. in a new, better world, maybe he will take some piano lessons: he has grown tired of pretending he can play. he has grown tired of pretending in general. hell, maybe he will even take the bar exam again.

#i promised an essay #i delivered #there will be more and there will be better #this was written in a hurry bc i have A LOT to study rn #ace attorney #aa #phoenix wright #beanix #aa4 #apollo justice ace attorney #apollo justice: ace attorney #aa4 spoilers #ace attorney theory #turnabout trump #raystextpost

511 notes · View notes

justkennadi · 8 months

Text

Black and Purple.

Notes: So now i like Mr. Hitoshi. I used to reallyyy like him a couple yrs ago and ig here we r again🤭 So basically this is gonna be a mini series of mine like idk 3 posts? I don’t wanna call them chapters..

Content: Hitoshi Shinso x afab, Blk!Goth!reader

- You were weird. You’re quirk was weird and so was the music you listen to or how you dressed which, could be blamed on your quirk.

- When you were younger, like up until kindergarten, you were really feminine and pink and peppy. Until you got your quirk.

- When you were 5 it activated for the first time. It was halloween and you dressed up as a witch. Door to door you tried to look as scary as possible. You got to your neighbors house and when she opened the door you stood and did your creepiest face knocking she was terrified of witches. Oh this would be good.

- Hmmm, it was maybe a bit too good…

- She opened the door and screamed. You and your mother were a bit taken aback..you were 5 were you really that scary?

- Turns out the neighbor saw a much more creepier version…

- You later learned that your quirk was meant to play on people’s fears and paranoia causing people to hallucinate or hear things not there. The doctor you saw called it paranoia. So that was it, your quirk was just Causing paranoia.

- Your parents had emotion related quirks too but this? It seemed….villainous.

- Your life changed that day. Kids were scared of you. Teachers too. You only got good grades even if you didn’t try on work. You could do anything and never get in trouble because if people knew what you could do to them it was over.

- You spent most of your life from that day lonely and sad. You always wanted to be a hero but this was just such an obstacle. You started getting darker..

- And this appearance change did not help your case at all.

- Anyways time skip to your UA days. Yes you got in. But not in the way you hoped.

- You were in class C.

- You we’re jealous of the lucky people in Classes A and B. But you felt if you tried hard enough you could get bumped up.

- The first few weeks of school you just sat in the back of the class. You didn’t really speak to anyone.

- However you did start to catch a certain purple hair boy staring at you often.

-One day you finally looked over at him and asked, “What do you want?”

- He shrugged and went back to doing his work.

- You knew him just a little and mostly because his quirk. Secretly you wanted to get to know him more and his quirk. But you had become so anti social you just couldn’t. He didn’t seem the type to strike up conversation either but luckily for you he was interested enough in you to try.

- “Hey.”

- You looked up from packing your backpack as class was over.

-Quirking an eyebrow you wanted to know what this guy wanted now.

- “What do you want?”

- “Careful, i’m trying to be nice here Morticia.”

- “Ok, i’m sorry, but no one talks to me out of nowhere.”

- “Interesting… I wonder why..”

- You rolled your eyes. Was he playing dumb, being sarcastic?

- “How about you? You don’t seem so popular yourself sir.”

- “No i’m not…and i think it’s because of my you know what..”

- “Same here.” You thought about this next part, “Wanna talk about it?”

- He didn’t seem like much of a talker especially about his quirk but he took interest in you so it’s only fair you do the same back.

- To your surprise he nodded. Then he added, “Only if you talk about your situation too.”

- So you two left class and walked around talking about your quirks and how it isolated you both from everyone. You talked about your get up and he talked about why he has eyebags.

- You learned you both had almost the same life, we’re night owls, had the same ambitions and loved cats.

- Before you both knew it, it was dark out.

- “Thanks for talking to me, Shinso. I haven’t said this many words since my junior high science project presentation.”

- He chuckled slightly and thank you back.

- He walked you to the street your house was at and waved goodbye.

- You never had a crush on anyone but Shinso…he evoked a whole new feeling.

- Everyday you two would talk about any and everything. It was so nice to see him open up. And surprisingly he was such a gentleman too..

- The sports festival was coming up and you really wanted to go but said nothing. You saw Shinso signing up one day and asked him about it.

- “You’re really serious about this huh?”

- He just nodded.

- “Well, i believe in you Shin..” You smiled.

- “I think you’d do pretty good out there too yknow. You should sign up. Scare some of those pros.”

- You were shocked. He really believed in you? You barely believed in yourself. You were extremely lacking in the physical department so you were nervous to go up against anyone honestly. You wondered how Shinso was so brave himself. If someone doesn’t answer him it would be over..

- “You really think so??” You asked.

- He just nodded again and handed you the pen as he walked away.

-You stares at the sign up sheet for a bit. And then you did the unthinkable.

- You wrote your name.

- The day came and you were a wreck. You didn’t even do your usual makeup and kept your face bare.

- Shinso noticed your face and patted your back. “You’ll do amazing. Even if you don’t, you tried and that’s saying something right?”

- He smiled. He was not the best motivational speaker but he helped you just a tad.

- When it was your turn you were up against some green haired boy named Izuku. He had just defeated your friend so you were a bit fired up now. You saw all he could do was flick his fingers and send waves of power out which was..odd.

- Your quirk allowed you to see people’s fears and anxieties. You quickly accessed this boy, peering into his life. You saw what he was afraid of. Failure.

- You stared into his soul as the game started and activated your quirk. He started to attack but stopped once he heard, booing?

- He started to look around and see people pointing at him and laughing and booing his name and gagging and and and.. what was happening??? He was frozen.

- Then he heard whispers in his ear. Like the most unmotivatonal things ever. The sky got darker and you started your final move. You snapped your fingers and he looked at you to see your eyes roll back to your head as you smiled your most creepiest smile ever as it started “raining” burning metors. Izuku ran out the ring in pure fear to avoid get “hit”.

- The whole time you just stood there smiling an of course the snapping your fingers part. Once Izuku was out of bounds he saw how reality finally snapped back.

- You won..

- Well you didn��t win in the end, losing to Bakugo, but you got 4th place.

- And still plenty of pros came over to you to ask you how your quirk worked and offered you internships. Even kids from Class 1-A came to talk to you. It was amazing to be seen for once. You were quite popular now in fact.

- Later you heard a voice; “See i knew you’d do great…” Shinso said after everything was over and the room you were in was empty.

- You then ran up to him and hugged him. He was shocked. He wasn’t used to touches but here you were. The most prettiest girl ever, hugging him.

-“Thank you…” You said into his chest.

- He blushed and looked away. “Don’t mention it…”

- “No, really. You just changed my fucking life dude…Thank you so much.” You said pulling back looking him in his eyes.

- He just smiled.

- You held his hand as you two left that day. Your heart filled with joy. It wouldn’t be long before He asked you out finally…😉

More notes: anyways if y’all haven’t seen on my latest post, i started college and i work so i’m like really busy everyday, all the time. So idk the posts r gonna be kinda slow 😭👋🏾 but yeah i’m still alive, i still got my plug!connie and nerd!armin drafts but i’m saving those for when i’m really slumped and can’t put nothing out for a while so if ur waiting sorry 😵‍💫😔 also this is not proofread…

#mha #mha shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou #mha shinsou #x black fem reader #mha x black female reader #mha x black reader #shinso x black reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #x goth reader #x black goth reader #shinsou fluff #shinso x reader fluff #mha x reader #mha shinso x reader

167 notes · View notes