#and honestly believes its luck that he's there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astralis-ortus · 14 hours

Text

beyond forever and eternity

✱ husband!bc x fem!reader

— love cannot survive on luck alone.

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan referred to as chris, quite the amount of kisses, mild cussing, and the usual very ew-you're-so-in-love behavior. also, reader is addressed as wifey twice! a.n → based on this request! but friends, i think you need to stop me from all this domestic chan thing because i!! am!! dying!! from!! all!! the!! cuteness!!ㅠ /j

the past year had felt like the best time of your life.

sure, the first 6 months were filled with one heck of an emotional rollercoaster—a bunch of final wedding preparations, taking care of all the confusing legal papers, making sure your new home with chris was up to both your expectations, and actually having the wedding within the span of 180 days made you wonder if everything was real.

the latter part of the year is when your new reality starts to sink in. some days, it happened when you woke up next to a softly snoring chris—curls as messy as a bird’s nest, yet you couldn’t help but tread your fingers through those dark locks. some others, it happened when you watch his back while he showed off his newly acquired cooking skill, giggling away while chris convinces you—though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself—that eveything’s going exactly to plan.

other days, however, it happens simply when you caught a glance of the stack of beautiful silver bands on your ring finger, gleaming softly under the light of your cozy living room. you’d then look at your husband sitting next to you, faint crease decorating his forehead as his gaze focuses on a project he’d been working on for the past hour or so. you’d gently bring your finger to tap on those crease, immediately erasing its existence as chris shifted his focus towards you, gaze softening along the appearance of his dimpled smile.

being married to chris had felt like coming home—like he has always been everything you’ve been looking for and more.

“has it started?”

chris’ soft voice along with the warmth of his arm snaking around your waist swiftly snapped you out of your trance, gaze returning to your husband’s smile. you silently shook your head, instead wrapping your arms around his waist and gave into his warmth while allowing a content sigh to slip past your lips. “wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” you admitted, to which he immediately returned with chuckle.

“you’re sleepy?” he gently planted his lips on your forehead while running his palm on your side. “wanna call it a night?”

“no!” you whined, lips pursing in protest. “i’m not sleepy. besides, it’s only like 2 minutes till new year, and i want to spend the first seconds awake with my husband,” you playfully emphasized—and there it was. the rosy bloom across his face quietly surfaces despite chris’ attempt to play it cool, and it never fails to amuse you.

guess it won’t be hard for you to bet that you’ll never be the only one in love in this relationship.

“gosh, wifey,” looking at you with a scrunched nose, chris finally let the adoration bubbling in his chest win when he playfully ruffles your hair—which, of course, earns a string of protests from you, “do you really love me that much?”

“think so,” you stuck out your tongue, eyes twinkling as you decide to further tease your now-red-as-a-tomato husband. “i think i love you so so so much to the point i might pass out. i mean, how can i not? you’re charming, you’re adorable, you’re handsome, you’re hot as fuck—how do you expect me not to? i’m just—“

you haven’t been paying attention—but again, how could you? your gaze had been fixated on chris’ beautiful features, taking notes on every minuscule scar and freckles painted across his blooming face; but as the plush of his lips shuts off your rambling ones, warm hands cradling your equally warm cheeks,

you could hear the fireworks within you harmonize with the colorful blasts outside the window of your hotel room.

you know you’re lucky—despite believing in the concept of soulmates, you know there are universes where your path with chris’ remains as distant, separated parallel lines. you know that nurturing your relationship with chris will have its ups and downs. you know what you have now with chris will forever be both unbreakable and fragile,

and you’re determined to turn your every day with chris as special as it could be.

“happy new year, wifey,” he mumbled quietly, lips fixed into a smile as it grazed against yours when he finally pulled away. pads of fingers tucking the stray strands off your face, chris followed the kisses across your face—on your forehead, your closed eyelids, your rosy cheeks, your soft jaw, before he returned his lips home onto yours.

“thank you for staying with me—for promising your forever to me, and i’m looking forward to spending my eternity with you,” with a smile apparent on his lips, his gaze were soft as he tenderly peered into your glossy ones.

“i love you—more than words could ever explain.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

82 notes · View notes

dramaticals · 6 months

Text

following instructions

pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader

summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.

author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader

✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧

Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.

Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.

"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.

"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.

Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.

"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."

There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.

"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.

"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.

In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.

Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.

"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"

"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."

"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. Curse him.

Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.

Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.

Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"

As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.

"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."

"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."

Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.

"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"

"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.

"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.

Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.

"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.

Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.

Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.

"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."

Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.

With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."

The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.

You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.

"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.

"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"

"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.

You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.

You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.

"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.

Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.

"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.

The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.

Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.

"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.

It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.

"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.

There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.

"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."

Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.

"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."

Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.

"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.

"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.

You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."

Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.

"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.

You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.

"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"

You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.

"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.

"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."

The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.

"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.

Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.

Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.

"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."

"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.

"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."

So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.

By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.

You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.

Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.

"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"

"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.

At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.

Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.

"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.

Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.

"Shit," Theo groans.

"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.

"God, shut up."

Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.

Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.

While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.

"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.

His impatience makes you smirk.

"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."

"You know I don't give a shit about rules."

"Too bad."

This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.

"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.

This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."

Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.

"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.

Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.

"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.

You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.

"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."

"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"

You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"

This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.

To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.

"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.

You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.

"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.

"Then you know what I want to hear."

He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.

"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."

"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.

"That's my good girl."

Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Oh, God, yes, Theo."

His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.

Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.

"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"

His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.

"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.

The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.

"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."

With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.

#if you squint this is theo x ravenclaw reader #theodore nott smut #theo nott smutt #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott #*writing

3K notes · View notes

moondirti · 2 months

Note

pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.

honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up

PART 1 • PART 2

tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.

It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.

Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.

Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.

Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.

“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.

“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Reckon I know the road.”

Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.

Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?

30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.

They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.

They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.

The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.

“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”

And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.

(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)

“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”

“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.

“Si.”

“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.

“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.

No one speaks for a while. Then–

“I don’t think I should go home right now.”

Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.

“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”

Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”

“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.

Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”

“Not what I meant, pet.”

You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.

Johnny bridges the gap.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

next part

#why do i keep writing these while sleep deprived #i’ll edit tomorrow cba rn ngl #༄dee answers #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #x reader #x female reader #simon riley #John mactavish #ghost #soap #cod #call of duty

773 notes · View notes

meidnightrain · 2 months

Text

YOUR BEST AVGIN BOY❞ - aventurine

summary: sometimes he can’t help but wish, to be a better person worthy of your love

warnings: reader is gn, angst, hints of spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest

notes: inspired by the song your best american girl by mitski because honestly ever since aventurine came out, i keep thinking of him whenever that song plays.

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept

you have so much to do in this world, you live, you learn, and you grow towards the sun like a seed sprouting from the earth. but AVENTURINE had nothing ahead of him, it seemed. to be haunted endlessly by his past, to gamble everything he had on the line and wish for his luck to run out eventually, to be nothing more than a reminder of his family that were now gone.

you hold him in your embrace tightly, so tight that the thoughts that gnaw at him cannot grasp his shoulders. he can be protective at times; you’ve noticed that self-destructive and self-sacrificial side of his, and you’ve hated it for as long as you remember.

you’ve once asked why his favourite suit were spades—why not hearts or diamonds? his answer had been because they symbolised luck, and you had not bought his answer without hesitation. spades were commonly tied to death—the balance between creation and destruction.

if he could, he’d be your little spoon, held together by your arms that would wrap around his waist. and he’d kiss your fingers forevermore, slender and soft, unlike his calloused and sly ones, his fingers that were stained with blood and used for trickery. you run them through his hair, caressing his cheeks. you’ve memorised every nook and cranny of him, from the curve of his hip to the shape of his jaw.

he shivered under your touch, sending chills down his spine and willing him to pull your body closer to his so that you’d envelop all of him, even the bad parts that he hated.

your hold on him tightens ever so slightly, willing yourself not to waver when you speak, to be strong, and to protect him like he always did for you. “there have been moments where you’ve been more than not fine, but fine itself is the best way of describing how you feel without getting me to worry about you. so tell me, what can i do to make you stop hurting?”

“i think if you kissed me more than once, i’d be alright.” his voice is low, muffled from where he had burrowed his face into your chest.

he can hear the rumble of your laughter from where his head lay over your heart, feel the gentle and steady beating of your heart, a lullaby that lulls him to sleep. AVENTURINE has always been vulnerable in your arms; when his mouth meets yours, you both melt into each other almost instantly.

your mother wouldn't approve of how his mother raised him—alone in the ruthless sands and learning to survive with sharp wit and cunning. in fact, he knew that your family hated him, for he was an avgin. sweet as honey, twisted into something more sour by the ipc who spread falsehoods and lies to promote their agenda in the galaxy.

and some part of him couldn’t help but try to be the best he could be for you and dispel that idea people perceived of him, even if he himself didn’t believe they were wrong.

his desire had always been futile, for you had the options and the freedom to become whoever you wanted to be. he had always been nothing but a remnant of an extinct race, a miracle survivor amongst the thousands of his people lost.

you are the sun, a glimmering star in the sky that is adored and praised by many. you've never seen the night; why would you when all everyone needs is you? but you hear its song from the morning birds, one of sweet symphony and of the refreshing glow that is its moonlight. he is not the moon, AVENTURINE is not even a star. he wasn’t flashy; he could not even compare to the light you brought. but awake at night, he’ll be singing to the birds, weaving tales for them to bring back to you, even if he knew that you’d never spare a glance at him, even if it mean that he’d never be able to see your smile.

he is the one; he is all you have ever wanted, even though you knew that loving him would ruin you. how does one heal a broken heart, one too far shattered beyond repair? you build him up again, like piecing a puzzle and filling up his missing pieces using fragments of you. and he could never be unloved by you, for his is too well tangled into your soul. every bit of you screams for him, for his love, for him to be yours, even if you know that it will be lost in the void.

and you’d wait for him to return from the abyss, even though you knew that some part of him didn’t wish to come back to you.

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine

417 notes · View notes

draconic-desire · 3 months

Text

A Dance With the Dragon III — Opera

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III — You are here]

Neuvillette enjoys bringing you to the Opera Epiclese. You, not so much. The result; a clash of tides.

Warnings: Implied past NSFW, typical yandere tendencies and obsessive behavior

You had grown to loathe the opera.

When Neuvillette first suggested it, you had perked up immediately. You ignored his rare smile at your excitement, knowing he believed to use this as a stepping stone to winning you over. You didn’t care; the Chief Justice was delusional if he thought you wouldn’t abuse this opportunity to escape.

Your plan, of course, was a complete failure.

Neuvillette kept a firm, guiding hand on your lower back the entire night. Even the slightest movement on your part would earn you a warning glower. He wasn’t even challenging you to act out; no, he was demanding your compliance. Bastard.

And Archons, the stares you got for it.

You knew that Neuvillette had worked his way up to being a well-respected and renowned figure, but you never expected the fanbase he had acquired. He was barraged by women and men alike, all hoping for a chance to woo, interview, or befriend Fontaine’s Chief Justice. He responded to all of their inquiries with aplomb, though you noticed his grip on your waist tighten every time an individual would glance your way, whether out of curiosity or envy.

Standing off to the side, you swirled the champagne glass clasped in your hand, opting to remove yourself from the conversation. Honestly, you were shocked he had allowed you to indulge in any alcohol with his obsession over your health. Such regulations included eliminating certain foods from your diet (“Why would anyone ever eat food that’s been deep fried?”) and drinking an ungodly amount of water each day, usually with a long conversation about its flavors.

Oh, and the physical activity, too.

With a scowl, you tipped the flute back to imbibe the rest of the champagne. Maybe if you got drunk enough, you’d have some respite from both the spotlight and your memories with him. He already seized every moment of your reality; you didn’t need him plaguing your thoughts, too.

But luck was never on your side these days.

A particularly nosy group of women had been giving you the stink eye all night, until one of them strutted up to your “date”. Despite being multiple paces away, you could hear their entire conversation. She curtsied, batting her long lashes flirtatiously. “Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am Trudaine, daughter of the Duke of Romaritime Harbor. I’ve been meaning to approach you for some time now, for who could resist such a handsome and powerful man?”

You rolled your eyes and kept chugging as Neuvillette beckoned you towards him. Before he could answer, you reluctantly closed the distance between the two of you, feeling his hand caress your lower back. Trudaine sneered as she looked you up and down. “I must inquire, who is the lady you’ve brought as your accompaniment tonight?”

Neuvillette tipped his head politely. “Greetings, Lady Trudaine. While I appreciate your flattery, I must decline your advancements. You see, Lady (Y/n) here is my wife.”

You choked on your drink.

While Neuvillette rubbed your back in a concerned manner, believing you had simply had too much to drink, Trudaine’s lip curled in disgust. “Her, a Lady?” she barked in disbelief. “Come now, Monseiur. She’s clearly nothing but a commoner, and not even one from Fontaine.”

Neuvillette’s judgmental gaze flicked down to the woman with a dangerous flash. “Lady Trudaine, I suggest you take your leave before I lose my temper.”

The Judicator’s expression must have spooked her, for she quickly shut her mouth and scurried to the safety of her friend group, no doubt to continue the gossip about you.

“My dear, are you alright?”

You waved Neuvillette away, coughing up the last bit of alcohol. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You placed the empty glass on a nearby table; alcohol had been ruined for you for the rest of the night. “Though I don’t recall accepting your proposal, husband.”

Neuvillette ran a gloved hand through his bangs. “Ah, forgive me. Your human customs sometimes elude me. If it is a ring you seek, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You gaped at him. “You seriously think I’m upset because you didn’t buy me a damn ring?” You pressed yourself against his chest, jabbing a finger into his robes. Neuvillette sucked in a breath, marveling at the proximity. You were actually touching him. He didn’t care in what context; he could feel your warmth, sense your heartbeat in tandem with his own. It took every ounce of his might not to rip that dress off your form and bury himself inside you.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” you whispered so as not to draw attention, “I am not, and will never be, your wife. I do not, and will never, love you. You may think us a couple, or mates, or that what you feel for me is love, but you have seaweed for brains. You have taken everything from me—my freedom, my career, my family, my vision. You have forced yourself on me and molded me into some hollow version of myself.” You gestured to your attire, all lace and frills to replace your preferred pants, to emphasize your point. “Delude yourself all you want with titles like ‘wife’ and ‘dear’ and ‘mate’, but they are nothing but empty monikers.”

The enamored look on the Justice’s face only served to prove your point. Stretching his cane horizontally behind your back and cupping your chin with the other hand, he trapped you against his form. “All in good time, my darling. Rocks may appear unbreakable, but the sea erodes them all eventually.”

~*~

Then there was the most recent time he had taken you.

Neuvillette’s idea of a ‘compromise’ was to forgo the formalities of chit-chat for simply sitting in your (private balcony) seats until the opera began. This development saved you from the crowd, but at the cost of being alone to fend off his intimate touches. You practically snarled at him when his hand snaked up your thigh.

“Try that again in public and you’ll lose that hand.”

“Later, then.” He muttered the promise as the lights dimmed.

The opera’s plot centered on an ancient monster rescuing a sacrificed maiden. Instead of devouring her, the creature took her into his care, and their love led to the creation of the Melusines. You nearly throttled Neuvillette at the climax, when the maiden denounced the humans who sent her to die in favor of becoming an immortal with the creature. The so called “monster”, then, transformed into a handsome god of the sea.

As the curtains fell and the lights rose, you glimpsed his subtle smile. Standing abruptly from your seat, you moved towards the exit without sparing him another glance. “Don’t even fucking start.”

~*~

This time, however, you found an opportunity to turn the tables.

This time, Neuvillette had permitted you to mingle alone within the crowd in the Opera’s foyer prior to the show. Pointless chatter with the other opera goers was preferable to being alone with him, though you really knew that Neuvillette had agreed as a test of your loyalty. Although it seemed you could roam as you pleased, you knew the Iudex kept one eye on you at all times. A note slipped into a hand or a whisper for help into an ear would be detected immediately.

While you refrained from approaching others, that didn’t mean you could prevent others from approaching you.

Others like the exceptionally handsome individual striding towards you.

His azure irises soaked in your form as he ran a gloved hand through his fiery-toned hair. Once before you, he delivered a playful bow, lips pulled in a smirk. “Ah, and might I ask why a lady as stunning as yourself is standing by herself?”

You lowered the champagne glass from your lips, taking in the man’s appearance. Based on the thick fur coat slung over his shoulders and the single red earring flashing on his left ear, he certainly wasn’t from Fontaine, though he clearly possessed a good deal of wealth nonetheless.

Your eyes shifted towards the hydro vision on his hip. Your hand instinctively went to your neckline, where your own vision would have been. The only reason you hadn’t gone mad from its absence was because it was never truly far from you—that is to say, because Neuvillette was never far. Your heart ached, and somehow the fact that this man shared a hydro vision made you trust him. “And might I inquire as to who’s asking?”

The man offered you a coy smile. “Call me Tartaglia.”

Returning the smile, you sketched a brow cheekily. “That’s quite a unique name. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Am I really that easy to pin?” Tartaglia chuckled, blue eyes sparking mischievously. “Seems I’m losing my touch.”

“Not at all. If you ever need someone to get you acquainted with Fontaine, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” you shot back with a wink, your implications clear. Of course there was no world in which Neuvillette would ever let that happen, but you missed how fun it was to flirt—or just to even talk with—someone who wasn’t the Iudex. You’d take your fun when you could.

Tartaglia’s grin only grew at your suggestion. He offered you the second glass of champagne he held. “I noticed you might be needing another one of these, though really I just took whatever excuse I could to talk to you. Are you really here all by yourself?”

Before you could respond, your gaze subconsciously flicked around the room until it landed on the one who had brought you here. And it was then you noticed the Chief Justice glowering at you, his knuckles turning white around the goblet in his fist. The group of officials around him, though they kept prattling on, went completely ignored as his silver glare flicked between you and the mysterious redhead.

Oh, this would be good.

As Neuvillette excused himself from the conversation, your eyes met his own and a wry grin graced your lips. Blame it on the alcohol, but you were feeling bold and invincible. Like you were the one in power for once. Maybe that’s why, before Neuvillette could reach you, you leaned towards Tartaglia and purred, “It’s just you and me.”

Then you tilted your face up and kissed his cheek, the barest hint of your lips brushing against his porcelain skin. And yes, it was petty in every sense of the word, but you reveled in the furious spark of Neuvillette’s lilac irises.

No more than a second later, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Neuvillette stepped between you and Tartaglia, forcing the other man to take a large step backwards. You, on the other hand, were now partially hidden by the Chief Justice’s large frame, his left arm out to hold you behind him. His cane cracked against the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Tartaglia quickly recovered, looking more entertained than anything. “Woah, comrade! We were just having a bit fun! No need to spoil the mood,” he laughed.

Neuvillette’s eyes simply narrowed as he maintained his calm facade. “You will stay away from my wife.”

The redhead tipped his head, trying to get a better look at you past the Iudex. “Didn’t know I was chatting with the Chief Justice’s lady! Any chance I could convince you to share?” He laughed again, flashing sharp teeth.

Neuvillette was far from amused. “You should hope to never cross paths with me in court, Harbinger.”

Wait. Did he just say Harbinger?

You may have been locked away for four hundred years, but you’d still been informed of the Snezhnayan group of Delusion bearers and their influence (whether for better or for worse) across Teyvat in recent years. You barely had time to process that revelation as Neuvillette firmly clasped your wrist and dragged you outside.

Heavy rain had started to fall, battering the Court with its relentless downpour. Both you and Neuvillette were quickly soaked to the bone, and while you were shivering in your light gown, the Iudex whirled on you. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, knowing it would twist the knife even further. “What do you mean?”

“With that man,” Neuvillette said, gritting his teeth. His composed, human mask was slowly slipping, and you were in the mood to provoke the dragon beneath.

“What, I’m not allowed to talk to other men? You were the one who said I could mingle tonight.”

Neuvillette’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Talking? You kissed him, (Y/n). In front of your husband.” His tone slipped into a deep growl. “Your mate.”

Anger flaring, you went in for the kill. “Despite what you keep telling yourself, we are not actually married—”

“Silence!”

Thunder rumbled across the court so violently you swore you felt the ground shake. You gasped as the leviathan tattoo on your arm resurfaced, illuminating your face with blue magic. The authority in his voice cascaded down your spine, soaking your entire being as if you had been submerged into the depths of the darkest ocean. But no, it wasn’t just that—the rain had started to fall even harder, accompanied by gusts of wind that threatened to knock you to your knees. You could barely see five feet in front of you, but the visibility didn’t matter, since Neuvillette’s figure was as clear as day.

He was glowing.

The Hydro Dragon’s horns sparked with blue light, and his robes seemed to have expanded to create flowing waves on either side of his form. Tendrils of azure power snaked through the air around him, forming intricate patterns that resembled water droplets spiraling around one another. Blue seeped from the bottom of his cane and formed cracks through the ground that pulsed with raw energy, threatening to unleash the waters below. His irises burned as bright and silver as moonlight on a midnight sea.

Neuvillette might have been the most composed individual in all of Fontaine, but when his anger bubbled over, it was no mere flood—it was a tsunami.

You gaped at his appearance, the closest to his true draconic form you had seen to date. You suddenly felt like provoking him was your worst idea yet, but that wasn’t what scared you the most. “Did you…can you control…?”

“I am no mere water nymph or Melusine,” Neuvillette replied curly, power dripping from his body as smoothly as water. “I am the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. Water of the earth and the skies bows to me. As will you.”

You weren’t sure when you had started shaking. For the first time in a long while, your anger was doused. You looked between your tattoo and his matching glow and realized just how powerless you were without your vision and within this dragon’s clutches.

Despite all his flaws, after all your years together, Neuvillette knew how to read you. He immediately stilled, a look of panic contorting his handsome features. The ethereal glow around him faded, and the rain began to subside into a dull mist.

He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you with desperate abandon. “My love, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me—please, forgive me.” Another shiver wracked your form, which prompted him to hold you tighter and bury his nose into your hair, exhaling deeply. “I have made a grave transgression by frightening you so dearly, but I pledge to never lose my temper in such a manner again.”

Neuvillette caressed your cheek and tilted your chin up to gaze longingly into your eyes. “You are my entire world, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” He swiftly picked you up bridal style, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Come. I’ll draw you a warm bath with fresh sea salts. I believe we’re done here for tonight.”

Wordlessly, you let him take you home. You can’t argue with a dragon.

#yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #reader insert #yandere #opera epiclese #fontaine #guess who makes a surprise appearance #childe #tartaglia

595 notes · View notes

lightbluetown · 7 months

Text

i saw some people say ed and zheng are master strategists while stede is just some guy with ridiculous luck, but i think that's unfair. sure stede's ideas are insane, but they fit the looney tunes ass universe of ofmd perfectly. they're mostly well-thought-out, well-executed and they showcase stede's strengths and growth! so allow me to talk about them:

1- ghost of the forest - 1x02

a fuckery™ before stede even knows what a fuckery™ is! this is amateurish and stupid in every way. he's not even threatening izzy with a real dagger-- that's a letter opener. does izzy actually believe that stede has a huge crew hiding behind the bushes? doubt it! but this weird little act is enough to establish stede as a (ridiculous) pirate figure to the legendary izzy hands and to accomplish his goal of taking a hostage back

2- lighthouse - 1x04

imagine coming up with the exact same idea at the exact same time as the most brilliant tactician of the seven seas! we don't know who came up with which parts of the plan (honestly it was probably mostly ed) but this is still bloody impressive

3- stark revelations - 1x05

stede's first big success! he uses his knowledge of the aristocratic world to get a shipful of rich assholes to destroy each other, but he's also showcasing what sets him apart from them: this plan only comes to fruition because stede talks to frenchie, olu and abshir as equals. as people he can learn from, as sources of inspiration

4- duel with izzy - 1x06

this one was absolutely unhinged, but its success was far from dumb luck. only stede could think of using a brazillian cherry wood mast and ed's weird stabbing lesson to win a duel, and that's what makes this plan so undeniably stede and brilliant

5- faking his death - 1x10

i love that he just had to "die" in the most dramatic way possible. a heroic fight (tiger), a realistic accident (carriage) and the most cartoony death in the book (piano)... not only is his triple-death able to convince everyone in barbados that he's dead for good, it also allows him to have closure with his family. it's filled with stede's ridiculous unique flair, but it's designed to be a fuckery™ through and through. ed would be SO proud

6- stealing jackie's indigo dye - 2x01

quick little stealth mission. did ricky manipulate stede into trying this out? sure. did ricky also ruin it? absolutely. but it was working until then! the swede isn't part of stede's crew at this point, but his respect for stede is what gets him to cooperate and risk his relationship with his beautiful wife. also, it's thanks to his love for fine things that stede immediately recognizes the value of "blue dirt"

7- prison break - 2x03

in my eyes no scene depicts stede's growth better than this one. knocking zheng's entire crew out with tea is the most stede thing out there, and this plan uses the cherry wood mast as well! this plan relies on stede's (unrealistic) tea knowledge, overly-fancy ship and ability to coordinate his crew. what makes it breathtaking is that he secretly sets this plan into motion while actively mourning the "death" of the love of his life. he's putting his life on the line to rescue ed's "killers" because he's emotionally mature enough to look at things from their perspective and forgive them

8- inciting a mutiny - 2x06

yet another brilliant plan that could only be executed by stede. this entire episode revolves around his idea of "turning poison into positivity" and here he, well, fights poison with positivity. stede captains his pirates with respect and care (best he can) which just so happens to be the opposite of ned. he exploits this and gently gets ned's crew to turn on him. he singlehandedly saves himself and his entire crew from a notorious pirate! oh he also literally invents walking the plank right after this

9- "it's only suicide if we die" - 2x08

okay, yes, this one didn't go that well (sorry iz). but it's not like ed, zheng or anyone else had any other ideas! stede's weird suicide mission, for the most part, worked. they needed to get through british soldiers to reach their ship and they did exactly that. if only they'd remembered to check if ricky had his gun... oh well, you live and you learn

sure, ed and zheng are legends and stede is a silly newbie with wild luck. but he's also quick-witted, creative, confident and brave! he's a damn good captain and he deserves to be recognized as a good strategist!

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #i love my boy so much i will not let anyone disrespect him thank u #🏴‍☠️

755 notes · View notes

devondespresso · 5 months

Text

(found this bad boy in my drafts and honestly i loved reading it again so we're gonna post it. wahoo)

my personal canon for post-starcourt stobin is that they're actually inseparable for the first month or so

im talking steve taken to the hospital for his injuries and the staff having to force them apart and call security. im talking they have to drag robin kicking and screaming to a different room because last time Steve left her sight he was dragged back lifeless and presumably dead (i firmly believe they intentionally used physical torture for steve and to use his condition for psychological torture for robin)

and steve waking up half-present in a cold plain room alone? might as well be back in the bunker. and if theres doctors trying to run tests and examine his wounds? might as well be Russian soldiers standing over him and touching his injuries. hurting him again. possibly planning to hurt Robin next.

and now hospital staff are trying to deal with two screaming desperate teenagers who keep begging for the other in between rambles of nonsense and they can't run tests or do their jobs or even get answers from them because all these two seem to care about is the other teen

so they don't really have any practical choices other than moving them to a combined room. and they still freak out every now and then but having the other in the room keeps these outbursts much shorter and doctors are able to actually run tests and help these kids as long as they're close together. And when Robins blood tests and everything come back ok and shes able to be discharged, shes given special permission to stay in the room at all times

and the two little kids that came in with them? they're not exactly freaking out quite like the teens but they're certainly not making things easy either. Ericas testing the willpower of any doctor or nurse she can speak to and both kids stay as close as they can at all times and refuse to leave the hospital. visiting hours over? they're in the waiting room, even convinced a couple to move so they can have seats closest to the hall that teens room is in. try to call their parents? good luck getting a full name or number out of them. once their parents do come get them they're showing back up in an hour, bikes lodged in the bike rack and back in their seats. they've been stopped for sneaking in several times and caught hiding under one of the teens beds even more often. eventually staff just gets tired of spending half their shift wrangling two middle schoolers and it becomes an unspoken agreement to just ignore them hiding in the room.

And once Steve is discharged its the same thing all over again. Robins parents were worried about her spending all her time in the hospital with the boy from her summer job, but given the cover story about the fire and the pair getting trapped inside they convinced themselves its reasonable to want to stay by your friends side while they recover

but now that hes out, shes asking if she can spend the night at his house? and his parents won't be there? absolutely not. except robins in no mindset to accept leaving him alone for this long let alone overnight so she tried sneaking out to bike over to his before he can get the dumb idea to drive over in the middle of the night post-concussion. but the buckleys notice shes gone either because she makes too much noise sneaking out or they notice the severe lack of Robin-trying-to-be-quiet noises into the night (robin my tism queen definitely has bump-into-shit syndrome in the middle of the night but she also doesn't make any noise sneaking around the base with scoops troop so i think it's a 50/50 weather she can use the adrenaline to sneak out to see steve quietly)

so they put two and two together and drive over to the Harrington house. steve answers the door and calls robin over, both of them looking sheepish but not exactly guilty. they talk on steves couch (yes Steves there too) and stobin does their best to explain their separation anxiety that gets the severity across without getting them sent to a mental hospital all while making sure not to break any ndas (which ends up being a long conversation with stobin trying to translate their experience in the bunker to fit the cover story well enough, which is very different when the real story is kidnapping and the fake one is a building fire)

eventually they reach an understanding of "we're worried this is kinda unhealthy but its clearly more stressful to try and separate you right now and we're definitely not going to be able to stop you" so they compromise to let steve stay at the buckleys for a little bit so they can at least keep an eye on them. at first they try just letting steve sleep on the couch (which they agree to because steve worried about overstepping as the guest in their house) but one or both of them have nightmares the first night and robin ends up on the couch with him anyway.

after a few nights they get the gist of the stobin dynamic: attached so strongly its concerning but nothing... flirty. anything they do is always completely innocent. hand holding with no heart eyes, banter with no tension, hell even sharing a bed they resemble little kids in a sleepover pile more than lovers. and especially after nightmares they'll find robin holding steve like hes just one of her old teddy bears.

of course theyre still cautious and have their suspicions that theyre secretly dating and just really good at hiding it, they're paranoid parents after all and robins never shown this much attention to a boy ever. but they do relax a bit with it as they're more confident theres no... funny business.. going on. or at the very least nothing thats going to leave robin hurt. they'll have their talks and robin will promise its "nothing like that", but they've grown to like steve so they're sure robin will come to them when shes ready.

now if only there was a reasonable explanation for the middle schoolers that keep showing up. apparently they were also trapped in the fire with robin and steve which helps make some sense of it, but they also sat with them in the hospital. surely if they're having nightmares about the fire they'd go to their parents? they hadn't really talked much with the sinclairs but they seemed like very loving parents and robin follows steve to his little dinners with mrs Henderson pretty often so its not likely that they can't go to their parents about nightmares, but they seem to prefer going to steve specifically. like ringing the Buckley's doorbell at 1 in the morning asking if steves there. and of course they'll let them in and show them to robins room (after calling their parents first, do they even know their childs run off?) where steve was sleeping in a pallet on the floor but is now a glorified blanket pile robins hugging. on her bed, of course. because god forbid theres 2 feet of space between them.

and the kid just joins them in their sleepover pile, dustin usually clinging to steves other side like a baby koala and erica usually finding a spot leaning against robin or occasionally making room in between them

and so more often than not the Buckley's have not one, not two, but three extra children in their house that isn't their daughter, all of them sleeping in a pile on robins bed like theres nowhere else they'd rather be

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve and robin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates stobin #stranger things season 3 #post-starcourt #devon thinks sometimes

413 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 10 months

Text

This is very inspired by @minnesota-fats post about Danny being Bruce Wayne's clone (which has been rotting in my brain for two days) but an au where danny isn't just Bruce Wayne's clone, but also not fully a ghost.

both ideas can be used separately honestly, the idea just came to me while thinking about the bruce wayne clone idea, and a lot of this idea is just "danny without his ghost powers. i might probably make a part two that delves into him being bruce wayne's clone.

Hear me out.

A Danny Fenton who has the ghost sense and the fangs and the pointed ears and the scary eyes and an increase ecto-essence, but does not have the ability to "go ghost". His accident occurred when he pressed the "on" button on the outside of the portal, and the button electrocuted him due to faulty wiring. He ends up miraculously surviving but not without some new additional abilities (and electricity-based trauma).

Since Danny no longer has a built-in alter ego with the invert wardrobe to match, he doesn't see the point to take ghosts back to the ghost zone. What the hell can he do anyways? All he has is a cosmetic add-in, a lower body-temperature with an impressive ability to hold his breath longer than a human realistically should, and a built-in ghost detector. Not very helpful if you ask him.

That is, up until he goes into the lab after his parents catch a relatively harmless ghost and sees them vivisecting it. He's horrified. He thought his parents were using hyperbole when he said they'd tear them apart molecule by molecule.

(Granted, he also believed that ghosts were unfeeling up until he saw this random ghost being absolutely terrified for its existence on the table.)

After an argument over his parents harming the ghost, Danny goes back up to his room and refuses to leave, not even for dinner. Later that night after his parents went to sleep, Danny steels his resolve and sneaks back down into the lab and releases the ghost back into the ghost zone.

This happens a handful of times, until, finally, frustrated, Danny tells the latest captured ghost to tell anyone inside that if they even think about coming through, he'll capture them and bring them back to the zone himself. It's for their own safety.

The ghost agrees, and goes back inside. Danny steals a "failed" thermos from his parents' stash of weapons. The next time that a ghost shows up, its the lunch lady from episode one. Danny manages to defeat her without being seen, but knows that if there's gonna be consistent daytime ghost attacks then he can't base his luck around fighting without witnesses.

So he fashions himself with a makeshift outfit. This really only consists of an old, nondescript hoodie and a plain black face mask. Its the best thing he can do at short notice, however. Later, for his nighttime ghost fighting, his outfit is only slightly better.

He considered using one of his parents' lab suits. But white sticks out at night and the material doesn't protect you from road burn. His outfit is pretty homemade, with knee and elbow pads under his clothes and multiple layers. A long sleeve shirt over a hoodie over a black denim vest he found on sale. He later on manages to make brass knuckles ghost-proof and manages to stitch them into his gloves. (he gets very good at sewing).

His favorite part of the entire outfit, is a Casey Jones-style full-face mask he found while thrifting. It allows him better breathability than the face mask he was using (calling Rule Of Cool law here), and he can use his scary eyes to make him look more intimidating. His gloves, his mask, and his thermos are the things he carries around with him constantly, and, later on, wears baggier clothing to hide the fact that he's wearing knee and elbow gear under his clothes.

Did I mention he has long hair? Danny has long hair (because GNC danny ftw, it goes past his shoulders) that he braids back. it's a bit sloppy but it keeps his hair out of his face well enough. He takes the fenton creep stick with him.

(He and Bruce have, ultimately, a more lean build than a bulky one. It helped Bruce with his Brucie Wayne persona big time when he had to look like a pretty skinny boy, he uses body language, optical illusion, and body armor to make himself look bulkier as batman)

He still goes by the name Phantom. He still has a bitter rivalry with his parents, who have no idea that its him. They think he's probably some other ghost with beef with the other ghosts (he still triggers their ghost sensors), and still want to capture him.

He doesn't talk around the living. He doesn't have any fancy voice changer and dropping his voice hurts and ultimately, he just uses ASL if he ever has to talk in front of people. The ghosts know his voice at night, but not during the day.

He hardly talks to the living. He avoids them like the plague actually. When he defeats a ghost and there's an audience, he barely sticks around to have a nice friendly chat. He tries to get away as soon as possible. He's paranoid over people finding out who he is. He doesn't have that ghost form to fall back on here.

Oh god this is getting so long, so i'll post another part soon.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dc x dp #dp crossover #danny fenton is a clone #dpxdc #his mask is casey jones inspired because i think its sick as fuck #it looks like a skull kinda and i think it plays into the whole 'ghost fighter' thing #his jacket has some kind of stitching on the back that's ghost like #he has a cartoon ghost stitched into his breast pocket

897 notes · View notes

starb3rrys · 7 months

Note

I just saw Sleeping Together Hcs and AHGZICZGFI, so I'd like to request a part 2 with Jouno and anyone else you like to add if you want to. Bc the first is SOOO CUTEEEE >.<

Hello!! Ah- I am so happy to hear you found my "When Night Falls" Hc's cute. I would be delighted to write your request, hope you enjoy!!

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

When Night Falls ✩Part 2✩

Ft. Jouno, Dazai, Fyodor || Part One

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

Jouno

Sleeping with Jouno is honestly pretty complex.

Considering Jouno's senses are heightened, I do believe he gets sensory overload when he sleeps with someone else or something he doesn't recognize.

Things like your hair touching his chest, your quiet snoring, the heat radiating off your body can make him feel overwhelmed.

Taking that into consideration, Jouno isn't much of a cuddly person.

He doesn't want to make it seem as if he doesn't love you or like having you around.

Hence why rather than a full cuddle, he just places his arm or leg on or around you.

Its like a way to reassure you he's here and wants to be near you while not being overwhelmed by the feeling yk?

He is honestly a pretty peaceful sleeper, although sadly- he is a very light sleeper.

Meaning any sound, or movement makes him either wake up or alert. (Your light snoring kept him up the first time y'all slept together, but now its like a white noise, weirdly comforting to him now).

Good luck trying to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh- The bathroom?"

"Hm...alright, try not to pee so loud--It keeps me up."

"HOW CAN I CONTROL THAT?!"

Dazai

Sleeping with Dazai is comfortable.

Despite what people may think of Dazai, he isn't overly clingy.

Sure, there are nights when he just wants to be smothered in love and affection but it's usually once every blue moon.

He respects the fact you both need space and hates the feeling of being overwhelmed in a situation that is supposed to be comfy and delicate.

Between you two, its much less cuddling and more of just holding each other.

Lose hands rest on your body as quiet snores fill the room, you both lay in bed enjoying each others presence. (Nothing too tight or restricting).

Dazai tends to always be the one holding rather than being held.

He likes being able to let go or scoot away if the heat gets too overwhelming or adjust if he feels uncomfortable in his current sleeping position.

Dazai is a pretty heavy sleeper, you could really sneak out of bed at night and he would just continue snoring.

In addition, he tends to move around quite a bit; rolling over, scooting away, shifting around- etc.

"Sorry, its getting a bit hot let me just...there we go."

"Dazai- this is the fourth time you've moved."

"OKAY! I promise this is the last time."

"..."

"I have to pee-."

Fyodor

Sleeping with Fyodor was honestly a whole process.

Firstly, you had to practically beg and attempt to convince him to even consider sleeping in the same bed with you at least for one night. (He's such a bitch. I love him.)

Listen- He may love you, but it will take a while to actually get him to be vulnerable around you, especially being unconscious around you.

Once you get past the 4 month long process, we get to the actual good stuff.

The first night you two slept together, Fyodor stayed on his side of the bed, not really moving nor cuddling you--just kinda there. (It was really awkward)

But over time--after realizing that you really mean no harm and just want to sleep next to him--he will actually start to relax and allow himself to be vulnerable.

Fyodor is a very light sleeper as well as a quiet sleeper, rarely ever shifts around.

Once he chooses a sleeping position for the night, he sticks to it.

Fyodor is an occasional cuddler, to be more precise, he only cuddles when he needs to warm up.

Warmth is a big thing for Fyodor, considering he is Anemic, cuddles and warm covers help him alleviate and rest better.

Your warmth helps keep his cold body heated which he appreciates greatly and sees as an advantage.

Although, if the heat from your body and the covers becomes too much, he will quickly move away from you and sleep on his side of the bed.

The next morning, make sure he gets up SLOWLY! or he will fall over and crack his neck.

"So, how did you sleep last night?"

"It was...quite pleasant, although your warmth mixed with the covers warmth got me a bit overheated."

"Is that why you nearly kicked me out of bed?-"

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

These Head-cannons are so cute, I love being able to write things like these!! Honestly, I was searching up cuddling positions just for the funnies :) I asked my friend for help since I had huge writers block- (ILY) Anyways, Love ya! <3

#bsd jouno #jouno x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #anime

620 notes · View notes

cinnamostar · 22 days

Text

three dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five (here). part six (coming soon).

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.5k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, nothing crazy :)

a/n : im back from my hiatus and omggg i graduated from my masters program wahoooo! here's part five. let me know what you think! theres not much going on here to be honest........ its pretty chill

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Yo,” Changbin answers from the other end of the line, his heavy breaths echoing through the call.

“Are you still working out?” Hyunjin asks incredulously, pulling the phone back to check the time, “You said you were going to the gym two hours ago and you’re still there?”

“Gotta keep these bad boys in shape, ya know?” Changbin teases, a giggle ringing through as he is most, (and he is), checking himself out in the mirror, “What’s up though? Did you just get home?”

“At this point, you look more like a bodyguard than my manager.”

“I take that as a compliment! Thank you very much, but I believe you have something to discuss with me, hm?”

“I mean, it went well?” Hyunjin responds with uncertainty in his voice, causing Changbin to sigh from the other end of the line.

“Is that all..? Are you just going to call me every time to tell me only that?” Changbin asks with annoyance, unable to understand the actor’s unwillingness to share anything more about the arrangement he found himself in. “You know, I’ll just end up calling Chan and hearing it from him instead…”

“Huh?”

Changbin smirks to himself, knowing that would capture the younger’s attention, “Yeah, you know, Y/N has a lot to say. I know all about it. It’s the only way I know how things are going.”

“What do they say?”

“Why do you care?”

“I just do.”

“And I should tell you because…?”

Hyunjin frowns at the back-and-forth, feeling peeved Changbin, his manager, wasn’t divulging any information upfront, “Because I’m the one going on dates with them and I should probably know…?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me how today went.”

“It went well, I already told you that.”

“Tough luck, buddy, that won’t do. How unfair, especially when Y/N has sooo much to say,” Changbin dramatically mocks a sob, “Yet you, oh, you have so little to offer. It’s like you’re not enjoying any of it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at his antics, frustration bubbling within him, “I am enjoying it and it is going well. Is that good enough for you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

“Okay… So, can I hang up now?”

“No.”

“So you want me to stay on the phone in silence with you?” Changbin asks, a smirk still plastered on his face because he knew, eventually, Hyunjin would relent to Changbin’s teasing. It was always like this, Hyunjin was hard to read and never shared much with Changbin, which honestly makes his job as his manager a lot more difficult than he’d like. The only times Hyunjin would be transparent with him about his emotions was when he was complaining about something, or the time he panickedly called him after his very unfortunate date with you, and how he realized what a big mistake he had made. Other than that, Hyunjin lips were always sealed tight. Either because he was a private person or was bad at vocalizing his feelings, Channgbin didn’t know, but he was getting annoyed at Hyunjin calling him after every day with the same three words every time. ‘It went well.’ God, those words were pissing him off and he felt like his time was being wasted because now, he had to call Chan and find out from him what was going on. After another few moments of silence, Changbin sighs once more, “Okay, I’m hanging up now —”

“N-no, wait!” Hyunjin interrupts him, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Okay, now I’m waiting.”

“Today went well, and I know I already said that, let me finish,” rambles Hyunjin, the words slowly clawing their wait up his throat, “It’s just… it’s a lot nicer than I thought it would have been. They’re super kind and welcoming to me even though I was a complete asshole to them.”

Changbin smiles victoriously to himself, ecstatic to finally hear this simple, yet salient confession out of the younger boy, “Oh, that’s good then. Sounds like they’re doing their best to make it work.”

“Yes, but I also… feel really bad about it too,” Hyunjin grimaces at the guilt he had been trying to ignore, it sneaking up to the forefront of his mouth as he speaks, “I really don’t think I deserve any of this from them, but they’re treating me sorta like nothing ever happened before and it’s a little weird to get use to this side of them. The more I realize how wrong I was about them, the shittier I feel.”

“Man, I don’t blame you, but I think you gotta give yourself some credit. It sounds like you both are handling this weird situation the best you can. Have you told them this?”

“Yeah, and that’s what makes this feel worse. They were so sweet about it, they comforted me when I was the one who hurt them,” groans Hyunjin, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, “And they… they said they need time to forgive me, which is fine! I get that entirely, but… I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself until they do?”

“Mhm, I understand what you’re feeling isn’t easy, but don’t you think you should at least try to be nicer to yourself? I mean… It sounds like Y/N cares about you enough, and if they want you to feel better about the situation, shouldn’t you try for their sake?”

“I guess, but it’s not that easy, Changbin –”

“I never said it was easy,” Changbin responds pointedly, “But wallowing up in guilt is no way to be living either, I’m sure Y/N knows that too and doesn’t want you beating yourself up this much about it when you’re both trying to move forward.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just give it a try, it won’t hurt. You can hold yourself accountable and still be nice to yourself. Alright, but I have to go now, so byeee!”

Hyunjin frowns, “Wait, no, you’re supposed to tell me–” only for him to be cut off by the sound of the call ending, “... what Y/N said…”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hyunjin decided to take both yours and Changbin’s advice to heart and do his very best to practice compassion, yet he forgot how terribly difficult that was until the next day arrived. In theory, it should be simple to just be nicer to himself, but his heart kept contorting and aching with guilt throughout the day, it becoming too much to bear as he tried to figure out how to control that emotion. He had to eventually learn to be in your presence without that harrowing, bottomless pit that would form in his stomach, especially if you two were going to be costars for the rest of filming.

So here he was, his face and ears tinged with red as he sat across you on a picnic blanket, an assortment of foods between you two, and a gentle breeze causing locks of your hair to dance. Despite the chilly weather, Hyunjin could feel himself being covered in what he can only describe as a cold sweat while his stomach flipped onto himself. He was nervous, anxious even, and he had zero clue on how to deal with what he called guilt, shame, humiliation. He wasn’t sure which word was the best descriptor for this very moment, but he could barely sit still, constantly fidgeting as he tried to turn his gaze away from you, hoping the blues of the lake would ease his nerves that had not stopped rapid firing since noon.

“You okay?” You ask, lifting a sushi piece to your mouth as you eyed Hyunjin with a cocked up eyebrow.

He freezes up for a moment, before forcing a nervous smile with a nod, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” He tries to force his voice into a more cheery tone, but he can tell you could see right through him. Somehow, you could read the faintest microexpressions from him, but he’s thankful to see you shrug your shoulders and not press on any further. It was almost as if you had the ability to read his mind, knowing when it was right to question his behavior or just let him revel in his own thoughts.

“Well, you should eat some more! I need some help finishing all this food Changbin ordered for us,” you laugh, picking up a piece of sushi between your chopsticks and lifting it towards him, “Here, open up!” you say in a teasing tone.

He rolls his eyes, “You know, I can feed myself,” but he felt his stomach bubble up with inexorable nerves, his words almost getting caught in his throat. You playfully pout at his words, “Oh, c’mon, just eat it! I know you want to.” You wiggle the sushi in front of his face in some poor attempt to entice him, but it was only causing him to become uncomfortably warm as he did his best to look anywhere that wasn’t your face. “Fine, fine,” he responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he opens his mouth as you plop the sushi into it, the beating of his heart thumping loudly in his ears.

“Good, right?” You smile.

He nods his head, his eyes crinkling at the overwhelming flavor as hums in agreement, “Wow, yeah, which one was that?”

“Mmm, I think that one is toro salmon? I’m not sure,” you giggle at his reaction, feeling pleased with yourself that you managed to whittle away at the awkwardness he wore around you. Hyunjin was constantly on edge around you, the nerves obvious in the frown lines of his forehead, and while you could understand why, you were hoping he would start to loosen up around you as time went on. Despite everything that has occurred over the past two years, you were starting to yearn for the friendship you and Hyunjin once had and wished to be able to return to that comforting time.

However, it was never that simple, as your desire for his friendship was often overshadowed with memories of his cruel words, how easily he spat them out to you without a moment of hesitation. A moment of innocent banter could just take you back to that time because somehow, his banter and cruelty shared a similar inflection, just enough to cause your eyes to prick with tears if you noticed it. The lasting impact his words had on you was a stark reminder for you to not so easily forgive him, to not forget what he was once capable of. But no matter how hard you tried to look past it and solely focus on your friendship with him, there was this inexplicable rift between you two, a hurdle neither you could just quite jump over, though perhaps it was this mutual understanding that allowed you both to understand each others’ quietness. It was strange, you two had become strangers that understood the language your souls’ whispered, but neither retained that fluency and were struggling to recall the words you once spoke.

The silence returns, enveloping you both as the wind hushedly howls, the sounds of birds chirping filling in the empty pages of dialogue as you each continue to eat. Every now and then someone would comment on the food, how good it tasted and thanking God for letting Changbin set up such a delicious day, finishing the last bits of sashimi that was left on the plate.

“Oh jeez, I’m so full,” you mutter, sleepiness slowly creeping its way into your body, “Ah, but we gotta take pictures, I don’t wanna deal with a whiny Changbin.”

Hyunjin snorts, knowing all too well the fit his manager would throw if his date plans were not followed through, especially when he made it clear to the both of you that he wanted proof that you two actually did take those pictures. All he wanted was for each of you to take photos of the other, a mini photoshoot by the lake, while also insisting it would be a great post for either of your instagrams. “Yeah, let's not do that to ourselves.” He lifts himself up from the floor, anxiously offering a hand to help you up, quickly retracting after you stood while ignoring the electric nerves bouncing at the palm of his hands.

“I’ll take your pictures first, okay?” You say, your phone already in hand as you gesture to him to stand in front of the lake, “Luckily, the sun is out, so maybe we will get some nice photos to post,” you add on. Meanwhile, Hyunjin, very stiffly, stood ahead of you, unsure what to do with his body and how to pose. Normally, he is good at this kind of stuff, he has done plenty of photoshoots in the past, but he was terrified at the thought of embarrassing himself in front of you. Before, he had never once had this concern, this worry, he didn’t know why these thoughts kept forming each time he thought of you. It clouded his mind, preventing him from seeing any logic or reason. “Alright, model boy, do your thing, I know you know how to work the camera,” you call out, snapping Hyunjin out of his trance.

If he wasn’t sweating before, he most definitely was now as he body overheated under the sudden pressure he put onto himself as he robotically posed, and you, as always, couldn’t help but notice the lack of elegance he usually carried himself with. “Oh, c’mon, what’s up with you today?”

“I… I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I think?”

“Well, I can see that,” you sigh, placing a hand on your hip, “But, you got no reason to be! It’s just me!”

“I think it being you is the issue,” he murmurs out, not really meaning for the words to slip out his mouth.

You press your lips into a straight line, “Right, I get that. Sooo, how about you pretend it’s not me taking the pictures, but Changbin?”

Hyunjin breathes out a sarcastic laugh, “Oh, yea, that will totally work, you make a very convincing Changbin.”

“Oh, right, let me just-” you roll up the sleeves of your shirt, exposing your biceps as you make a poor attempt to flex them, “How about now, is this working?”

Hyunjin found himself laughing loudly at your very sudden and unexpected antics, his stomach flipping onto itself as a flurry of affection rushed over him. You looked absolutely ridiculous, yet something about it was incredibly endearing despite the goofiness that radiated off of you. However, the sound of the camera shuttering from your phone quickly made him pause his laughter. “Hm, I think you look pretty cute in this,” you smile, turning the screen towards him to see you had captured a photo of him in the midst of his giddiness. He felt his cheek flush at your words, the shyness that had temporarily disappeared made its presence known. “I guess it’s not bad, just… a little different from what I usually post online.”

“Good different, right?” You ask, a smile still gracing features as the sun kisses your features, the wind gently brushing through your hair.

“Definitely a good different.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist (closed): @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba @palindrome969 @aokiss @annybah @tigerroarsinthelight @bubbly-moon @nattisbored @jin-from-the-block @hyuneyeon

#cinnamostar writes #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz hyunjin #stray kids scenarios

318 notes · View notes

senanatheskenana · 9 months

Text

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again.

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet.

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms.

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head.

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone.

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot.

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent"

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy.

#xreader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker

1K notes · View notes

futurecorps3 · 11 months

Note

can i request a jj x reader where she keeps saying she's sick but jj doesnt believe it and thinks it's just an excuse to not go to the midsummers or whatever u choose, but then when they both go, she passes out and jj gets worried and protective. thank uuu smm!!

𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: JJ thinks you're lying Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader Warnings: JJ kind of being an ass lmao, sickness, mentions of headaches, reader faints and I think that's it, lmk if I missed any! Word Count: 2.6K Requested: Yes

A/N: Took me a while to figure this one out cause I think J wouldn't be like that in the first place but let's try!! Hope u like, nonnie<3

Everything sucked. There was no way a human could have this bad luck, and Y/N had begun to think the universe had it against her at this point. She had spent almost a month finding the perfect dress and headpiece for Midsummers' night, two months in convincing her parents to let her bring JJ as her plus one and a solid three weeks in convincing JJ.

Only for a mind bending migraine to come storming its way right in the morning. She tried ignoring it for a while, taking some pain-killers to try to ease the pain, but they did absolutely nothing. Her parents had left early to help the Camerons set everything up (sitting around and ordering people) and the party started around five, so she opted for sleeping to see if the headache would subside.

It didn't; she realized right when JJ's booming voice rang through her ears, waking her up. "Figured I'd come down here so we could get ready together!" Her boyfriend said with a grin, holding the tuxedo she had bought for him in his arms. She incorporated from her bed. Standing up with a little dizziness, she couldn't let slide and kissed him as a greeting.

"For an event, it took me days to convince you to go to, you truly are excited." Y/N smiled, feeling a little light-headed. "Did you shower?" She asked as she buried her head in his chest as JJ's arms wrapped around her waist "'Course mamma, just for you... but by the looks of it you haven't" he smiled as his girlfriend hit his chest playfully.

"You're right though, be right back". Y/N stepped in her bathroom as she heard JJ play some music on her speaker. Hopefully, the shower would help the pain she could no longer stand. She tried massaging her scalp and breathe in the scents of her soaps, relax in the water and whatnot but it didn’t help.

She felt as if someone was pushing her eyeballs into the inside her skull while pounding the sides of her head with a hammer, the worst migraine she ever had. Now, this whole thing was important for both Y/N and JJ, as it was the first time they’d be attending an event of this nature together… but she wasn’t sure the headache would allow her.

The thought made her sulk a little, but in the end, the migraine was stronger. She stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel as well as her hair, watching JJ play around with her necklaces and rings. “J, I-I don’t think we can go” she muttered, disappointment clear in her shaking voice when she noticed how his face fell.

“What do you mean?” he sounded almost shocked. “My head’s been hurting like a motherfucker since I woke up, I-I tried taking some painkillers but they worked for shit and-“ “Y/N you ain’t gotta lie… just say you don’t wanna go with me”.

She couldn’t bear thinking JJ thought it had to do with him “Baby no, I-I’m serious! We could stay in and cuddle if you want, maybe watch Top Gun or-“ then he laughed. “Stop pretending”

“What?” “I know you don’t want me to meet all your kook friends and I know you're kind of ashamed of dating me even though you say you aren’t and-“ “What are you talking about!?”

This was a very JJ thing to think. And no, he wasn’t being manipulative. Y/N knew he meant every word he was saying. And that’s what hurt the most. He could get insecure and honestly, she couldn’t blame him. He grew up in a place that condemned him for the blood running through his veins, hearing things like “he’s just like his old man” or “a Maybank after all” when he fucked up.

Yes, he was reckless and stupid, but he was also kind and a good man. Y/N knew he had some reservations coming into this entire relationship with her because being friends differed completely from being boyfriend and girlfriend. The judgments they were to face were clear, but she always reassured him that as long as they were together they’d be okay.

She could see why he’d think that way. “It’s not like that, baby-“ “Except it is” he said, running his hands through his hair and pacing around the room. “Let’s go then” she gave in. Physical pain hurt way more than knowing JJ thought she was embarrassed to be dating him. She could handle it.

“Oh, so suddenly your headache goes away?” He snapped, throwing air quotes in the word headache which made Y/N, who was already getting her hair done, give him a look of “drop it” and he did, kissing her in the cheek before changing into his suit.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When they got there, Y/N’s headache was nowhere near better, but she tried paying no mind to it; what mattered was she was walking down to the party with JJ holding her hand. She squeezed his fingers gently as they approached her parents; him squeezing her's back.

“Hi sweetie!” My mom smiles, hugging her tightly with the sweetest grin and then moves to hug her boyfriend. “JJ, we’re so glad you could make it! Go ahead to our table. It’s four over there and I made sure to seat you with Sarah and Kie”. The woman was always kind to J, making sure he felt welcomed in their lives.

Who was really hard to convince was her dad, always wary of the boys Y/N brings home. Now, him being a pogue well… that stir shit up to say the least. “Thank you” the boy answered her mom, then turning to her dad. “Hello, sir”. Her dad gave JJ a stern look and held out his hand “Hello JJ”. And that was it for him.

As they were walking to their table, Y/N realized her boyfriend’s face fell a little at the interaction with her dad. “Hey hey, it’s okay… you know how he gets,” she quickly assured and he directed those sad blue eyes to her “I just don’t get why he doesn’t like me” he sighed, a sad chuckle leaving his lips.

“You don’t usually care what people think of you, J. Why do yo-“ “I care because he’s your dad! I don’t care if Pope’s parents or- or Kie’s don’t like me, I couldn’t give less of a fuck but not with you. He’s your dad and as much as we know he’s unfair with me for being a pogue, I-I would like him to like me”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words, making her feet stop next to the dancefloor, her headache pulsating at the strong wave of emotions. “We can’t make him like you but when we get married…” JJ laughed at that, placing big hands around her waist and smiling “When we get married, he’ll realize I couldn’t wish for a better person to be with me forever. Because you love me, and I love you.” She grinned, pecking his nose to then resume their way to their seats.

When a waiter approached them and Y/N ordered water instead of some champagne, JJ looked at her funny. "Water? Who are you? Kie?" He joked, the aforementioned throwing a small napkin to his head "At least I'm not going to die of some weird liver disease like you J!" Kiara countered, giggling slightly. "I told you I'm not feeling well" Y/N mumbled, and before he could say anything, she joined Sarah and Kie's conversation.

As the conversations flowed and laughter filled the air, Y/N valiantly pushed through the discomfort, not wanting her condition to dampen the joyous occasion. Engaging in lighthearted banter with her friends, she managed to mask the underlying pain she felt. Yet, behind her radiant smile, an unrelenting throbbing persisted, casting a shadow on her otherwise vibrant spirit.

As Y/N's voice intertwined with the playful chatter, a sudden surge of dizziness overwhelmed her senses. Her head felt heavy, as if wrapped in a dense fog, and her vision blurred around the edges. The familiar pain that had been nagging her intensified, clawing at her temples.

She desperately clung to the facade of normalcy, but her body betrayed her resilience. Y/N's grip on the conversation faltered, her words becoming muddled as her mind struggled to keep pace. Her friends noticed the change in her demeanor, a fleeting flicker of concern crossing their faces. "You 'kay Y/N/N?" John B asked.

In that moment, Y/N's world seemed to spin out of control. Sensations of disorientation and weakness cascaded through her body, leaving her feeling adrift and vulnerable. The sounds of her friends' voices morphed into a distant echo, as if they were calling to her from a great distance.

The once vibrant party faded into the background, overshadowed by the overwhelming intensity of Y/N's migraine. Her focus narrowed to a single point of struggle, her every instinct urging her to find solace and relief from the torment that gripped her. "Baby?" She heard JJ mumble as her consciousness teetered on the precipice. Y/N's body succumbed to the overpowering sensations, causing her to lose consciousness.

A profound stillness enveloped Y/N as she drifted away, suspended in a momentary limbo between wakefulness and oblivion. Time became a fleeting concept, and the outside world ceased to exist for those brief moments.

In that suspended state, Y/N's body rested, unaware of the commotion that unfolded around her. JJ held her full weight in his arms, shock written all over his features. "Y/N! Baby, wake up!" he hopelessly pleads, the attention of the nearby tables focusing entirely on him. Kiara rushed over to her as well as Sarah and John, all in a frenzy, knowing nothing of what was going on.

"John, go get the twinkie! Ambulances will take a while to come to this side of the island." JJ hurried, feeling everyone's gaze on him but caring only for the peaceful look on his girlfriend's face. John B nodded and left quickly to get the van as close as he could. Then, guilt came rushing through J's veins like injected adrenaline; this was hois fault.

Y/N had tried to tell him she wasn't feeling okay, but he was too petty and way more inside his head when she was just being honest. He felt a sting in his eyes and as soon as he blinked; the tears stained Y/N's dress. "I'm so sorry baby" he whispered, Sarah and Kie looking puzzled at him asking for forgiveness at a time like this.

"JJ, this is not your fault" the blonde said, rubbing his back reassuringly but before she could continue, he began shaking his head "Y-You don't understand, she told me her head was hurting but-but I was stupid and thought she didn't wanna be seen with me and-" a sob interrupted his sentence, making Kie hug him tightly. "It's still not your fault".

He cried for a few more seconds, holding Y/N close so he could feel her still steady heartbeat against his ear until John B came rolling down in the twinkie. JJ noticed Y/N's dad approaching when he lifted up his girlfriend, but he needed to get her to the hospital quick. "I'll get her to the hospital sir, meet you there," He said in a panic, his friends and him getting in the van and speeding off to the emergency room.

He felt his heart sink as John drove and he could notice Y/N's breath quicken, then falter. JJ rarely felt guilt, but this was the way the universe was punishing him, he figured. "Hurry" he mumbled, knowing his best friend was doing his best not to crash while getting his girl to the hospital as soon as he could.

Eventually they got there. Everything from when the car stopped to him sitting next to her bed was a blur for JJ; he had a vague memory of the doctors saying she passed out from the migraine and dehydration, nothing fatal but if JJ hadn't been there to catch her when she blacked out it could've caused a concussion.

The pogues stayed there against the professional's advice, saying they should go home and sleep, that Y/N would be awake by morning and they would be able to talk to her then. They refused. Kie and Pope (who got there as soon as he heard the news) cuddled on a couch. Sarah and John did the same as JJ just sat next to Y/N's bed, holding her hand.

The doctors instructed her boyfriend to give her water as soon as she woke up and notify a nurse that would help her immediately, but in the meantime, all they could do was wait. Her parents walked in to find a room of teenagers sleeping at around eleven. Her mom woke JJ up so he could fill them in.

"Mrs. Y/L/N... hi" he sleepily mumbled, rearranging the wild mess his hair was by brushing it back to later rub the sleep out of her face. Her father was standing behind her with an angry expression, and before Y/N's mother could speak, he approached JJ menacingly. "You explain to me right this second why you didn't ask me what was to be done as soon as she passed out! We were so-" the man whisper yelled so the others wouldn't wake up.

"I'm sorry sir, and with all due respect, I could not care less about what you thought would be appropriate other than bringing her to the hospital. I couldn't care less about how you both were feeling; she needed help, and she needed it right that second. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries but, as you would be able to tell if you gave me a chance, I have no limit when it comes to your daughter's well being" JJ declared, not once getting his eyes off Y/N's dad.

And he was telling the truth, too. He would go to the ends of earth for her and if her being safe meant her dad would hate him more, it was okay for him. Suddenly, Y/N's mother engulfed him in a tight hug. "She couldn't be with someone better than you. We're just glad she's safe and to know our girl is with someone who will look after her. Thank you, JJ" she smiled.

He smiled wide, returning the hug. "No problem, ma'am. The doc said she'd be just fine. Apparently she had a migraine and hadn't drunk enough water... we're all just waiting for her to wake up". When the blonde raised his eyes to the man behind her, there was something different. Respect, maybe. He didn't really care in this moment.

Her parents stayed in some chairs outside, and, at around midnight, Y/N woke up. JJ was the first one to notice when her hand moved to wrap around his finger while he mindlessly scrolled through twitter. He dropped his phone, almost falling to the ground when he tossed it somewhere as he turned to look at Y/N. "Hi, hi baby" He cooed, pretty y/e/c staring at him just like he needed "Mmm, my hero", Y/N's voice was hoarse.

JJ giggled, handing her a bottle of water and stroking her cheek softly. "I'm sorry baby, I-I should've listened to you when you tried to tell me" He sighed the apologies he repeated like a prayer hours ago "S'okay J" "It's not. Shouldn't have let my mind get in the way. I'm glad you're okay" "Yeah me too... I'm also glad to see you, baby... Dreamt about you while I was out" "As you should," he jokingly said, both of them laughing and sharing a sweet kiss.

The story after that is short. Y/N recovered, JJ was finally allowed at family dinner (and exchanged pleasant conversations with his soon to be father-in-law as he called him). ♡

˚ · • . ° .

The ending feels rushed, I'm sorry ahhhh. Tysm for reading! Hope you enjoyed

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj smut #jj x reader #jj x you #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj x reader x rafe #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fluff #obx angst

992 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

Note

HOBiE BROWN NSFW AND SFW HEADCANONS PLS 🙏🙏🙏

LAWD i am soo down bad for that man, good lord. 😩

If hobie tells me to jump from a building, I WOULD AND I'D THANK HIM⁉️⁉️🙏

-🥚 anon (its been so long since we've interacted, but im always lurking on your account and checking them out, but not like your post it because you deserve better :)

Hobie Brown sfw alphabet

Have an alphabet

I am love Hobie Brown :).

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hobie isn’t the most physically affectionate I believe, at least in public. He just doesn’t come across as someone who’s all lovey dovey more the most part. When youre alone though? He flops in your lap, good luck getting out.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This man would both die and kill for you as your bestie. He definitely corrupts you, or enlightens you, in the ways of being punk and why capitalism sucks ass. DIY makes you clothes, sews spikes into your jackets, and puts patches on your pants for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man is all hard and sharp edges, it probably takes a while to get used to cuddling with him without being jabbed by his elbows or shoulders. He likes to cuddle after you guys have been together for a while, and he knows he wants to stay with you. Big spoon and little spoon, doesn’t matter.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think he would want to settle down, at least for a very long time. Settling down would be too boring for him, he likes excitement in his life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hobie isn’t one to beat around the bush, so hed just tell you. Get it done and over with.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Honestly? I don’t think Hobie believes in marriage. Its just a way to spend a lot of money for a piece of paper, a part of the machine of society, or something like that.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I think he secretly can be quite gentle, he’s great at being there for you emotionally if you are struggling. He does tend to be quite tough, but if you are struggling hes there for you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes to hug, though it tends to be one armed hug or him throwing his arm over someone’s shoulder. After a long patrol he comes home to you though, and just wants to hold you for a while. Like with cuddling hes all sharp edges, but its comfortable in its own weird way.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He wouldn’t say it very fast, probably a few months since he has to make sure you are the one. He also doesn’t find it that important to say, since he expresses his love through actions.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Hobie doesn’t come across as the jealous type for the most part, he doesn’t go through your things or want you to not have friends who are certain genders. He does make his move though if anyone else is flirting with you. He wouldn’t start fights unless the other person started it first, but he will finish it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses would be intense, especially after you two have grown to truly love one another. He always kisses you like its gonna be your last. He loves kissing you on the lips and your hands, he likes when you kiss his hands too or his forehead when you cuddle.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Hobie is great with kids, he treats them like their own people and respect them, which means the kids love him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He sleeps late most days because he’s out at night being spiderman, so most mornings are spent cuddling as he doesn’t wanna get up just yet.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’s out most nights as spiderman, and when he isn’t you two always go out to do things, like go to concerts, protests, go hang out with other people or just to have fun. Though you also have nights where it’s just the two of you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hobie would wait a while before opening up about himself, since he’s spiderman and the life he’s lived, he can’t just trust anyone. There most likely still things about him you don’t know, but you know he will tell you if it’s important.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hobie is pretty patient, for the most part. Though it depends on who you are, if you are a fascist, a racist, or anything like that, he has absolutely no patience.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Hobie remembers most things you tell him because you are important to him, so he makes sure to keep it in mind. He probably remembers the small things you assume he will forget.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Definitely if you guys have had a spiderman kiss. It’s the smaller things, like when you two are sitting together in his apartment and he’s just playing on his guitar when you mess with his wicks, or cuddling, or if you paint his nails for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Depends on the situation, for the most part he knows you can protect yourself. But if he knows you need it, he steps in swinging. He won’t let you get hurt if he has any say. Part of him would also like if you protected him too, even though you both know he can protect himself.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

It truly depends on the situation, for the most part he doesn’t put too much effort into dates. It would just be things like you two going out to get some food to go and sitting on a bench and talking, or even bringing it home. Or going to a concert or something like that. Of course, he has his moments, for anniversaries or if he just feels like it, where he makes a bigger deal out of it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His apartment is a mess, like wow. But its like an organized mess. But if you don’t like messes its probably difficult. He most likely has a pair of crust punk pants too, so do with that as you will.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn’t concerned at all, he doesn’t believe in vanity and the level of power society puts on appearances. As long as he’s comfortable, he doesn’t care.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

After a while, yeah. After your lives have become very intertwined, he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Can do so many different types of art. Sewing, knitting, painting, sculpting, woodwork, the list goes on and on. He’s also so incredibly smart, and has memorized like, all the laws in the area he lives, so he can throw them back in the faces of people who would try to arrest him or someone else.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Vanity, if you care way too much about appearances or what others think about you. If you are super rich, he doesn’t like capitalism, so he probably wouldn’t like a partner who’s involved with it more than normal.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

His sleep habits are as messy as any other spider-person. Goes to sleep late, sleeps late in the morning. Goes longer periods of time without sleeping when working on things, you have to drag him to bed at times.

813 notes · View notes

skaldish · 8 months

Note

People who say Loki isn't real because there's no evidence he was worshiped are really annoying. How do I rebuttal?

By understanding this is not a proper argument to begin with.

This argument in its entirety typically goes something like this:

Loki isn't a god because he wasn't worshipped in ancient times. If he was, he would have had locations named after him (place-names), people carrying his namesake, and the presence of a cult following. Since Loki wasn't a god in pre-Christian Norse society, it would be inappropriate to consider him one now.

The origins of this argument are Asatru Folk Assembly. The full argument made by Stephen McNallen goes like this:

There was no devotion given to Loki in ancient times. No place-names marked ritual sites for him; no human bore names related to him; there were no priests or priestesses of Loki. Some modern practitioners of Asatru have apparently considered this an oversight, and one occasionally hears toasts to Loki at Asatru gatherings today. However, I strongly discourage this in the Asatru Folk assembly, and I do not permit horns to be raised to him in my presence. My experience is that Loki-toasts are followed by discord all-around bad luck.

Believe it or not, this is not a valid argument.

Logical argumentation is a kind of math, and an argument will always be invalid if it follows an invalid formula, no matter how true its predicates are.

Here's an example:

Some people are pagans, and some pagans are white nationalists. Therefore, some people are white nationalists.

This is an invalid argument because it follows an invalid formula. We can see this by reframing it:

Some people are herbivores, and some herbivores are deer. Therefore, some people are deer.

The "Loki wasn't worshipped" argument is riddled with these kinds of flaws, and not just ones that follow this particular formula. There's also issues of rocky facts, unfair standards, and general argumentative fallacies:

Heimdallr also doesn't have place-names, and is considered a god.

The absence of developed, structured cultus is not the litmus test of "worship" within the context of Old Norse religions.

The argument is predicated on the idea that the Old Norse people conceptualized "gods" the same way that the Greeks and the Romans did, in that this term applies only to high beings with widespread followings.

Same applies to how the Old Norse people conceptualized "worship." We have no idea how they defined it.

The argument's evidence does not consider all possible data, i.e. attestations found in extant Scandinavian oral traditions.

I can go on, but basically the argument is predicated on assuming the Old Norse people did polytheism according to what we think polytheism should look like.

But honestly? All of this actually doesn't matter, because the ultimate goal of this argument isn't to win the debate of whether Loki's a god or not.

It's to get people to associate "Loki's followers" with "degenerate behavior."

By painting Loki-worship as both factually incorrect AND superstitiously unlucky, it implies that anyone worshipping Loki is not right in the head somehow; that the can't think or reason correctly.

Many of Loki's followers correlate with the political and social Left. They're often queer/gnc and/or neurodivergent, and support socialist policies and rejection tradition. If worshiping Loki is deemed irrational and dangerous, then it stands to reason that these things are also irrational and dangerous, and therefore all of this must be a sign of degeneracy. Or so the argument would suggest.

The fallacies in the argument are there by design, because that is how cryptofascist writers radicalize reasonable people.

The best way you refute these arguments is to deny them a platform. Delete them from your inbox. That doesn't mean you have to ignore them though. You can always speak up about them on your own time. Personally, I try to make sure that whatever it is I bring up about them will be useful to the community at large, as opposed to being an angry hate-letter to those provoking conflict. (It's a philosophy I use regardless of what the motivations of an issue are, simply because devoting my attention to the community makes for a better online experience and is ultimately more effective in the long-run.)

#answered #lokean #norse paganism #lokideity #heathenry

289 notes · View notes

atruththatyoudeny · 2 months

Text

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Hiding Green Smiles | HoldingOnToChaos | [45k] Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate? When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent. He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months. -- Or the BiteMat fic

Secrets in Winter | softfonds | [82k] If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

Don't Change Me | Sharyn28 | [157k] Once in every fifty years, the moon shines brightly over the town of Holmes Chapel for 24 hours. The moment it turns red, any alpha pack leader becomes incredibly and outrageously powerful. For approximately two hours until it subsides, the alpha has the power to change any secondary gender. For example, an alpha can turn another alpha into a beta or omega and so forth. It doesn't matter if the chosen person agrees or disagrees, they have no choice. Once the decision is made, there is no turning back. All it takes to seal the deal...is the alphas howl to the moon, proclaiming their intentions as they stand around a bonfire, where the change will take place immediately. How is Louis going to react when his best friend and alpha leader retracts his alpha status, turning him into an omega so they can mate? Especially when Harry doesn't talk to him about it first.

Drop and Draws - What a feeling | Elmeiko88 | [50k] Ever since he presented as an Alpha, Harry can't stop drawing the same person over again. Louis, since long before he presented as an Omega, has always had behavioural problems... When Niall sees one of Harry's drawings, it becomes clear that these two must meet, and quickly. Everything should be easy, shouldn't it? Except, perhaps, Louis is on the other side of the Atlantic, firmly attached to Ricky...

You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life | LetTheMusicMoveYou | [3.6k] Louis had once heard that the chances of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. He wonders now, how those odds compare to randomly being seated next to your ex boyfriend on a 10 hour flight. Honestly, if the universe is going to insist on ruining his life, he really would have preferred the lightning thing. (Or the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?)

The Room Thief | 2tiedships2 | [12k] Louis: Can I come over? Need your help. Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it. Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch? Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW. Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour. --- When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

i would know you from touch alone | staybeautiful | [73k] They had never been face to face before now. They’d never touched, skin to skin, until Harry landed a punch to his face, high on his cheekbone. Louis shoved him off and was pulling his fist back from Harry’s abdomen before he realized his face wasn’t tingling because of the pain. It pooled out from his cheek, over his face, down his neck and spine. A shiver in the late September night. Heat, sparks - whatever you wanted to fucking call it. or The Tomlinson and Cox gangs have hated each other for over forty years. Harry Styles, the grandson of Gritty Cox, was freshly back to the city after uni when, on his first night out, he punched the Tomlinson heir in the face. It shouldn’t have mattered, their gangs have done worse to each other. But all it took was one single touch to recognize your soulmate. Louis was adamant that being soulmates changed nothing, not who they were or which family they were loyal to. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have.

In Jest | LadyLondonderry | [4.8k] Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top. Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it. Harry would really like to know which.

find a way (to send me a sign) | we_are_the_same | [666] Everything is dark, and Louis feels like he can’t breathe. For a moment, he is unsure what woke him up, until he hears it again. The soft buzzing of his phone on the bedside table. He pushes down the duvet that’s been covering his face and squints at the clock, the red digits telling him it’s exactly 3:00 AM. Rubbing at his eyes, Louis swallows back a yawn and reaches for his phone, intent on swiping the call away until he notices the name on the display. His heart jumps as he brings the phone to his ear. “Harry?”

Into The Mist | babyhoneyhslt | [63k] Sneaking on board the famous pirate ship Compass Arrow to get a story for his journalist father, Harry must do everything to keep a low profile. But when one of the crew discovers him, hiding from the ruthless Captain Tommo becomes almost impossible.

Tea Thyme | Fandom_Larry | [10k] In a town where omegas are expected to mate young, Harry finds himself still single. Instead of finding love, he chooses to live his life pining away for an alpha far above his class. That is until a mysterious courting gift shows up at his shop. What happens when he lets go of his dream and holds out for reality? Is it possible to still get everything he wants? Only the fates know.

Something About You Feels Like Home | MarWritesStuff (Ta_Ma) | [40k] When Harry starts paying attention, he feels his tummy fluttering. The singer is gorgeous in an almost ethereal way. He can tell that the man is an alpha just by looking at him, and he’s shocked to feel himself getting slightly wet. or The one in which Harry is a sheltered and inexperienced omega, brought up in a very traditional family, who just moved alone to London to finish his studies. There, he attends a concert by indie band The Rogue. Louis is the lead singer of The Rogue and is a bit tired of not finding a connection. Harry wants to let go of his family's rules and restraints, and Louis wants to find an omega to cherish and take care of.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly fic rec #my reads #larry fics

91 notes · View notes