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#i just think they fit well . They Are Friends :]
atlabeth · 2 days
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take my breath away
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.
a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy
wc: 1.3k
warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff
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“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 
“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 
“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 
“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 
“You never did sports as a kid?” 
“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 
Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 
“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 
“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 
Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 
You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 
(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)
Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 
His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 
“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 
“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 
“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 
“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 
You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 
“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 
“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 
He nodded. “How’d you know?” 
“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 
Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 
“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 
“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 
“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 
“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 
He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 
“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 
“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”
“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 
“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”
“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 
Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 
You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 
“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 
For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 
“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 
You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 
When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 
“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 
“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 
Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  
“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 
“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 
“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 
Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 
“But my teasing’s okay?” 
He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 
“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 
His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 
“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 
“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 
“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 
Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 
You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 
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wosoamazing · 1 day
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Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
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oxbellows · 3 days
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Welcome Home! Nothing Weird Happened.
Written based on @emilybeemartin's spectacular Boromir Lives AU comics, with permission. I might write more, who knows.
My whole thought process here is this: if Boromir lives and makes it back to Minas Tirith, he is about to receive an absolutely ludicrous quantity of bad news. And I for one think it would be both plausible and hilarious for Pippin to be the one who ends up delivering that news. So here we are!
Trigger warnings for that whole pyre situation from Return of the King.
 It was fitting, to Boromir’s mind, that the battle for Minas Tirith should be decided by dead men. So many had died for the city of kings already, their blood seeping into her soil like rain. Why, then, should her fate rest solely in the hands of the living? An unnatural justice rang out in the clang of steel against phantom blades, heralding the return of a hope long since given up for lost. 
“None but the king of Gondor may command me,” the wraith hissed.
“You?” Boromir had roared. “You, Oathbreaker? I am the heir to the Stewards of Gondor. Generations of my kin have died for an empty throne. None but the king of Gondor may command ME. Here stands the king of Gondor before us, and you will suffer him as I have!”
And suffer him they did. Sickly green washed over the last armored oliphaunt as the dead claimed more souls for their own. Boromir pulled his eyes away from the spectacle and spun his sword in his hand, scanning the area around him for the next foe. He found none. Only the backs of retreating orcs, and weary Men attending to their fallen brothers. That and, out of the corner of his eye, the strangest possible trio of a Man, a Dwarf, and an Elf. Finding no enemy to engage, Boromir instead turned his step toward the strange trio to embrace his friends in the wake of victory. 
Aragorn, king of Gondor, did not appear especially regal at the moment. He was covered in grime and gore, surrounded by the corpses of orcs left to rot in the open field. Gimli’s sturdy metal armor was slick with blood, and it dripped steadily off the edge of the axe that he had slung over one shoulder. Legolas, of course, was only as disheveled as he might have been after a short run, clean of the muck that covered the rest of them. His hair still fell properly at his shoulder, what witchcraft did the Elf use to maintain it? 
Boromir could only imagine what he himself must look like. He knew that he was damp and smelled like death, which did not bode well for a lordly appearance. Nonetheless, even in all his heavy armor Boromir felt lighter than he had since childhood. The battle was over, fought now only by those straggling beasts that had not managed to escape the field on foot. Boromir was still, impossibly, alive, and so were his companions. So was his king. 
The enemy may yet prevail, but Gondor would not fall before the White Tree bloomed again. It was more than his grandfathers had ever dared to hope. 
“Is that blood in your hair or just its natural grease?” Boromir asked his king, sliding his sword back into its scabbard and stepping over the body of a fallen orc to approach him.
Aragorn laughed, raising one dirty hand to skim his fingertips over the top of his head. “I cannot say, Captain. I only know that in either case, I would wash it before I present myself to your lord father.”
Boromir clicked his tongue dismissively. “My lord father’s not the one we have to worry about. If my brother hears that I’ve brought Isildur’s heir home in such a state, he’ll throttle me.”
He almost continued speaking. He almost added, if he’s alive. Aragorn heard the unspoken caveat all the same. His dark eyes had a softness in them when he spoke.
“The battle is over, Captain of the White Tower,” Aragorn said. “We must turn our efforts now to the dead and wounded. May we not find you kin among them.”
If the taste of ash settled on the back of Boromir’s tongue, it could be attributed to the smell of Mordor’s filthy army laying dead at his feet, and not to the terrible image that flashed across his mind’s eye of Faramir’s bloodied and unblinking face.
“My father will be well,” Boromir asserted, determined not to speculate on his brother’s wellbeing. “He is past his time as a warrior. He will have commanded our troops from a place of safety within the walls.”
Aragorn inclined his head in assent. His hair really was a sight- black blood had matted chunks of it together, and where they stood now in the open field, with the sun just beginning to peek through the enemy’s unnatural bank of shadow, Boromir could see that his clothes were in much the same state. Perhaps this was why Aragorn so persistently favored black for his travel clothes. Were he wearing any other color, it would be obvious that he was as drenched in the blood of orcs as if he had bathed in it. 
A warrior of staggering skill was this king of Men, but he preferred not to proclaim his deadliness to the world. He tucked it away into shadow until such skill was needed. Perhaps one day Boromir might look upon this man that he called brother and not be humbled by the mere sight of him. 
Perhaps. 
“I will search with a sharp eye, then, for Captain Faramir,” Aragorn promised. 
Boromir closed the distance between them to grip Aragorn’s shoulder in thanks. Aragorn returned the gesture with ferocity, digging his fingers into the mail covering Boromir’s upper arm. Gimli thumped Boromir’s back in a heavy handed gesture of approval, and Legolas bowed his head with a coy smile. A river of unspoken words passed between the four of them, about great and important things like love and fear at the end of the world, and then they released each other. Aragorn turned his stride towards the Citadel to lend his knowledge of elvish medicine to the House of Healing. Legolas and Gimli set out together to help carry the wounded into the city for aid. Boromir made for the rocky outcrop at the city’s outermost wall, the one that archers favored for its vantage point. There he was sure he would find rangers, and hopefully news of Faramir.
The walk carried him past countless dead orcs and uruk-hai, but also more dead men and horses than Boromir had ever seen on a single field. For every pair of comrades he saw embrace in giddy relief, another wail of grief reached his ears from somewhere else. His mail grew heavier with every step he took.
Boromir had scarcely made it halfway to the archer’s outpost before he was stopped by the sound of his own name.
“Captain Boromir!” a familiar voice shouted. “You live!”
Boromir stopped and whirled about. There, about ten yards from Boromir, close enough to the outermost wall to be half-concealed in its shadow, crouched a man in a forest-green cloak. His hands still hovered over a fallen Gondorian soldier, as if he had frozen partway through checking for signs of life. Before the man in green rose to stand, he brushed a hand over the fallen one’s face, coaxing his eyes shut before stepping away. Boromir felt a dull pang of grief in his already overburdened heart at the confirmation that yet another of his countrymen was dead. He had no time to acknowledge that pain, though, as the man in green righted himself fully. The green cloak, brown leather vambraces, and longbow on his back all sparked immediate recognition. 
Boromir knew this man, had met him before, but his weary mind failed to provide a name for him. It hardly mattered. The uniform he wore told Boromir everything he needed to know. Faramir had been clad exactly the same, the last time Boromir had seen him. This was one of the rangers of Ithilien, his brother’s own company. Hope swelled painfully in his chest. He hastened his step towards the ranger.
The ranger rushed to meet him and performed a quick, obligatory salute when they were close enough to speak comfortably. “My lord,” he greeted, breathless. “Your father thought you dead, but we in Captain Faramir’s company held out hope.” A wide grin split across his face. “You cannot imagine how sorely you’ve been missed!”
Seeing his smile finally dragged the ranger’s name to the front of Boromir’s memory. “Anborn,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you alive and well. Tell me, what news do you have of my brother?”
 Anborn’s smile dropped, giving way to a look of naked concern as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. “I have no news, my lord, none that is not two days old at least.”
 "Then give me the old news,” Boromir pressed, trying not to snap. 
Anborn grimaced and nodded. “My lord,” he said, haltingly, “The last time I saw your brother, my Captain, was on the day he rode out to reclaim Osgiliath with a company of forty mounted soldiers.”
Boromir could only stare for a long moment, turning over Anborn’s words in his head to try and make them comprehensible. No clarity came to him. “My brother is- in Osgiliath?”
Another grimace. “If he is still there, he is dead.” Boromir’s lungs constricted and froze. Anborn continued, “Osgiliath was overrun more than a week ago. I’ve heard rumors that Faramir made it back to the Citadel, but I cannot say any more than that without inventing rumors myself.”
“The Citadel,” Boromir repeated. He forced breath into his uncooperative lungs. He would go to the Citadel, and he would find Faramir there with their father, incoherent with frustration after arguing strategy with Denethor. He turned on his heel and started walking. Anborn said something as Boromir strode away, but he didn’t hear it properly over the ringing in his ears. 
What he had heard of Anborn’s words clamored in his mind- it sounded as if Faramir had taken a company of only forty men to reclaim an overrun city. That would be absurd, though. Faramir may be prone to bouts of melancholy and brooding, but he wasn’t suicidal. And even if he did, for some reason, decide to seek his own death, he would never bring any number of Gondor’s defenders with him to do it.
 Your father thought you dead.
 Boromir broke into a run.
Faramir didn’t hold sway over all their troops’ movements. Faramir wasn’t the Steward. 
 He was moving too slowly. Stumbling to a halt, Boromir grasped at the leather straps holding his pauldrons in place and did his best to unfasten them with numb fingers. Denethor had not been the same in recent years. The shadow in the east had darkened his thoughts, day by day, and set him talking as if the end were already here. His gray eyes had glinted in a way that Boromir scarcely recognized when he’d spoken of the One Ring. He’d never favored Faramir, never encouraged him the way he deserved, but the cruelty that had colored Denethor’s every interaction with his secondborn in the year or two before Boromir left shocked him. 
Boromir’s pauldrons landed on the ground in a heap, and now he doubled over to escape the shirt of mail. It was a difficult task without taking off his sword belt, but he managed. He needed to be faster, but he could not bear to go unarmed. The chain links poured gracelessly down over his head, yanking his hair as they went, and then he was free. Boromir took off running again, now unencumbered. 
 Faramir would never plan a suicide mission. 
 Would he accept one, though, if he was ordered?
Boromir’s feet touched white marble bricks for the first time in months that had felt like decades. He did not pause. Shouts followed him as he went, calling his name or exclaiming surprise. Arches and edifices flew by overhead. Rubble littered the street. He caught glances of bodies crushed under great stones. 
Boromir made it to the stairs. His weary legs burned and protested, but he dared not slow his descent. He needed to know where Faramir was, now. He needed to know what had happened in Osgiliath, before any more ideas had the chance to take root in his head. If he finished the line of thinking that Anborn’s news had set off-
 Boromir might kill his father with his bare hands.
So, he would not stop, and he would not think, until he found answers.
 He reached the top of the stairs. 
 A small group of guards, maybe five or six, clustered together at the Citadel gate, all spoke over each other in urgent tones. Boromir could not hear most of their words over his own ragged breath, but he caught a few. He heard “Mithrandir” and “Witch King” and “wood”, and then, “Denethor.” 
“Where?” Boromir barked. Every one of the men before him startled and turned to him with unabashed fear written across their faces.
If Boromir had looked a mess back on the fields, by now he must appear absolutely deranged. Half his armor gone, hair wild, white shirt drenched with sweat and blood- he could hardly blame the unsuspecting guards for the shock and confusion they displayed so brazenly at his question. Nor could he blame himself for the urge to grab the nearest one and shake him until he spoke sense.
Fortunately for all present, the guard furthest to the left, a man of slight and youthful stature underneath his plate armor, spoke up.
“The House of Stewards,” he said, voice trembling. He pointed in the right direction. “In the tombs. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.”
 Boromir ran like he had never done in his life. 
 For what possible reason would his father and brother be in the tombs in the midst of battle?
 He threw himself against the door to the tombs of his forefathers. They gave way with no resistance, and as he stumbled through the opening, he noted that the floor was dusted with splintered wood. This door had already been broken through. There he stopped short.
He could not, for the life of him, make sense of the scene before him.
 In the center of the foyer, directly on top of Húrin’s memorial etching, were the remains of- a bonfire? Heaps of ash and charred wood covered the usually immaculate white marble floor, built up into a high, still-smoldering mound in the chamber’s center. The air reeked of smoke. Neither Denethor nor Faramir were in sight, nor was anyone else. The tombs appeared deserted.
  “Faramir?” Boromir called warily. 
A clang of metal and the scuffle of unshod feet on stone answered his call, and then-
“Boromir!”
A small form collided hard with his midsection, forcing him to take a staggering step back. Small arms wrapped around him like a vice, a familiar vice, and Boromir abruptly realized that he was in the embrace of a hobbit.
“Pippin?” he demanded, aghast.
The young hobbit turned his face up to meet his gaze and a fresh wave of panic seized him. Pippin’s face was coated in ash and streaked with tears.
“Boromir!” Pippin cried again. “You have to help, Gandalf said that healers were coming but nobody came, there was screaming in the halls so I dragged him as far as I could but he’s heavy and I don’t know where Gandalf went and just- just- come here!” 
The hobbit released his iron grip around Boromir’s waist in favor of clutching one of his wrists and started hauling him off to one side of the room, into a corridor of mausoleums. There, poking out of the nearest alcove, Boromir spied the lower half of a single black boot. 
Pippin pulled him onward when his own pace faltered. With each step he could see more of the body that Pippin had apparently tried to drag to safety. A small, or rather, hobbit-sizedsword lay carelessly discarded on the floor beneath the alcove’s arching entrance where Pippin had dropped it. That would explain the clanging sound Boromir had heard just before being tackled, then. Which would mean that when he called out, Pippin had been guarding this archway with sword in hand. 
Pippin’s relentless tugging finally forced Boromir to where he could see the stricken man on the floor.
It was Faramir.
Of course it was Faramir. 
A rough, strangled sound echoed through the quiet tombs, and Boromir only realized a moment later that it had come from his own throat. Pippin darted from his side to kneel at his brother’s head, petting his hair and murmuring a soothing word. Faramir did not react in the slightest. He wasn’t dead; Boromir had seen enough dead men in his life to know with unfailing precision the difference between a dead body and a dying one.
No, his brother was not dead. He was only dying. 
Boromir dropped to his knees. 
In all this time that he had dreaded coming home and hearing that Faramir had fallen in battle, it had never occurred to Boromir that he might watch him die.
“He needs medicine,” Pippin pleaded, his little hand nestled in Faramir’s hair. Boromir now saw that the hobbit was dressed in the garb of the guards of Citadel, mail under a velvet tunic embroidered with the white tree. What had happened in his city? When had this barely-trained halfling become his brother’s last line of defense?
“Go,” Boromir rasped. He touched the hilt of his sword. “I will protect him now. Go to the House of Healing, down one level. Aragorn is there. He will listen to you.”
Without another word, Pippin took off at a sprint. Boromir and Faramir were left alone, together for the first time since Boromir had left for Rivendell. 
Boromir wanted to scream.
Instead, he maneuvered himself carefully to sit at his brother’s side. How Pippin had managed to stash Faramir away in this little nook, Boromir had no idea. He could only just find room for himself against the wall without jostling the motionless body beside him. He reached a tentative hand out to lay it on Faramir’s forehead. He paused before he touched skin, momentarily stunned by the radiating heat. When his fingers settled on his brother’s brow, it was like touching metal that had been left in the sun too long. Faramir burned. Boromir gently smoothed his hand over damp hair.
It wasn’t just Faramir’s hair that was damp, actually. It was everything on him. His short beard, the finely embroidered collar of his tunic, the silk of his sleeves. If his fever was so high, it was not so surprising to find him coated in sweat. The choice of clothes, though, was undeniably strange. There was no blood staining the fabric. Had he not been hurt in battle, then? Had he simply been taken by a violent illness? Was there a plague in the city? That might explain the lack of gore but not the presence of finery. Boromir had only ever seen Faramir wear this tunic for ceremonies. He wouldn’t have put it on before battle, and he would certainly have taken it off if he were falling ill. 
No, the only reasonable conclusion was that Faramir had not been the one to dress himself. A terrible, unspeakable suspicion wormed its way into his heart. 
Boromir almost regretted sending Pippin away without first asking him what had happened to create this bizarre tableau. Almost. His answers could wait until Faramir had been brought safely into the care of physicians. He lifted his hand to stroke Faramir’s hair again, but the slickness that clung to his palm bade him pause.
That wasn’t sweat in his brother’s hair, it was something else, something more viscous. Puzzled beyond words, Boromir brought his hand close to his face to inspect it. 
His palm was smeared with oil.
All at once, a dozen disparate fragments of information arranged themselves into nightmarish clarity.
Someone had dressed Faramir for a funeral. Someone had brought him into the place where the bones of their ancestors rested and covered him in oil. Someone had lit a bonfire in the center of the tombs. 
Not a bonfire. A pyre.
Someone had tried to burn his little brother alive.
 “No,” Boromir whispered, as if he could prevent his next thought from taking shape.
Only one person in Gondor could do any of this without being stopped.
In the tombs, the guard at the gate had said. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.
Boromir launched himself upright, out of the cramped alcove, and was sick all over the marble floor.
For the second time in a day, Pippin found himself running for someone else’s life. At least he didn’t have so far to go this time. He could not remember ever being so tired. It was also fortunate that he knew already where to find the House of Healing. Gandalf had insisted he memorize the route there as soon as he’d made his oath to Denethor, which was a bit insulting, to be honest, but turned out very useful in the end.
 The first time he’d entered the House, just a few days ago, he’d thought it was very full. Most of the rows of clean, simple cots had been occupied by rangers returning from outside the city. As he dashed through the sturdy oaken door now, though, he entered a different world entirely.
The cacophony of sound, smell and movement that surged up to meet him stopped Pippin in his tracks. The House of Healing was so crowded he could not see the far wall. He could barely see the nearest row of cots. Tall ladies rushed about in every direction, shouting orders to one another above a nauseating din of groans and cries. Pippin had been standing guard in a cloud of smoke for hours, and yet the onslaught of ugly and unfamiliar smells that accosted him here made him wish for the scent of smoke again.
His foray into the front lines of a battle had been terrifying. This place might be worse.
Boromir had said that Aragorn was here, though, and Pippin would walk headfirst into an army of orcs right now if it meant that Aragorn would help him. He never wanted to be in charge of anything, ever again, especially not trying to keep great lords and heroes alive. Aragorn was good at that sort of thing, he could take over now. Pippin took a deep breath and began forging a path through the chaos, calling Aragorn’s name as he went.
As he weaved his way through cots, ducking underneath outstretched arms and around long legs, Pippin heard questions following him that he had no desire to answer.
“How old is that boy? Who let a child in the guard?”
"Is that one of those halflings? The wizard’s pet or something?”
“Are you lost, little one?”
Some of these Men had the most terrible manners, clearly. Most of them were bleeding very badly, though, so Pippin could forgive them for their rudeness. He ignored them all and kept moving.
“Aragorn!” he shouted again.
A women that had been rushing by him paused for an instant to glare down at him. “Hush, you,” she scolded, in a voice that spoke of unquestionable authority. She wore a sort of veil with a nice brooch on it, so Pippin supposed she might be in charge here. “Lord Aragorn’s doing very important things right now and I’ll not have you disturbing him.”
Pippin’s heart jumped. “Where is he?” he asked.
The woman tsked and shook her head, making to continue along her original path. She held a bowl in her arms that Pippin was quite sure he did not want to see the inside of. Whatever it was sloshed unpleasantly when Pippin lurched after the women and grabbed a handful of her skirt to prevent her from leaving.
“The Steward has ordered me to fetch Aragorn! Show me where he is!” Pippin declared. He didn’t think it was a lie. Denethor was dead, so that made Boromir the Steward in his place, probably.
The woman gasped in surprise. “Lord Denethor lives?” she asked. “Wondrous news, we thought lord and son dead already.”
 Pippin avoided the question about Denethor by standing up as straight as he could. “Lord Faramir needs medicine,” he said imperiously. “He needs Aragorn’s skill. Take me to Aragorn.”
With a quick hand gesture to follow and not another word, the woman took off walking at a brisk stride deeper into the crowded hall. Pippin had to run to keep up with her. After what seemed like a dozen maneuvers around clumps of people and cots, a figure clad all in black finally came into view.
“Strider!” Pippin cried with relief. 
Aragon knelt at a young man’s bedside with a wet rag and bowl of water in his hands. He turned his face at once toward the sound of Pippin’s voice, a genuine smile gracing his lips as he did. Some of the panic that had been driving Pippin these last several hours faded away at the sight. If Aragorn was here, then surely things would get better now.
His relief faltered a bit when Pippin noticed that Aragorn was simply ­covered in blood- both red and black, and sweat, and grime that Pippin could not begin to identity. The Men gathered round him didn’t seem to mind Aragorn’s state, but then, most of them were splattered with blood as well, probably their own. Even Aragorn could not dispel the somber truth hanging in the air, that unimaginably many people had died today.
Faramir would join the dead soon if Pippin didn’t get a move on, so he marched past all those tall, bloodied Men to stand right at Aragorn’s side.
“Faramir’s dying,” he hissed, hoping he was quiet enough for none but Aragorn to hear. He didn’t especially want to deliver more bad news to the people in this room. “Boromir is with him, but he needs medicine, now.”
If Aragorn found this news distressing, he did not show it. He just nodded thoughtfully, and asked, “Can he walk?”
Pippin shook his head. Aragorn hummed an acknowledgment and rose to his feet. He handed the bowl and rag he’d been holding to another woman that Pippin hadn’t noticed before, murmuring something that sounded like instructions. He then spoke to the lady that had led Pippin, the one who seemed to be in charge.
“Ioreth,” he addressed her. “We have need of a stretcher.”
“It will be done,” she said, and turned on her heel to vanish back into the crowded hall.
Aragorn wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them. Pippin suspected he made them dirtier in the process. “Pippin,” Aragorn said. “Will you please lead me to Boromir and Faramir?”
“Yes, this way,” Pippin answered quickly. He was eager to be out of this terrifying place. He found it easier than before to navigate through the throng. He realized after a few moments of uninhibited movement that people were stepping aside to make way as soon as they saw Aragorn following him.
Had Aragorn already gotten around to being crowned while Pippin was busy? These people were certainly treating him like a king.
“Did you already become the King?” Pippin asked without thinking.
Aragorn chuckled dryly. “No, and I don’t think the lady healers would much care if I had. They care only that I know how to draw out the poison that covers many orcish blades, and that I’ve shared what I know.”
“Oh,” said Pippin, feeling queasy.
Finally, the door came into sight, and with a quick burst of speed, Pippin flung himself back into fresh air. Mostly fresh, anyway, permitting for some lingering smoke. The smell of blood and death that lingered in his nostrils seemed even more vile when contrasted against another, cleaner scent, and it made him gag. Aragorn placed a sympathetic hand between his shoulders.
“The battle to save the wounded is the hardest and the bloodiest,” he said gently. “There’s no shame in being shocked by it.”
Pippin couldn’t quite speak yet, so he bobbed his head in a jerky, shaking nod. He allowed himself two deep breaths before turning his attention back to the task at hand. Right. Faramir. Shot full of arrows and nearly burned to death, currently stashed in a mausoleum, actively perishing of fever. He had to bring Aragorn there, and then maybe he could sit down for a moment. He set off again at a jog.
Aragorn, being unfairly long-legged, could follow him with a brisk walk. Pippin was growing weary of these big people, he really was.
Back over the same cold marble stone he went, retracing his steps to the tombs. Two men carrying a stretcher had started following them at some point- Pippin hadn’t noticed exactly where they came from, but the stretcher they carried was already stained with red, so he suspected that they had been going back and forth from the House of Healing for a while already. Aragorn let there be silence between them for several yards, but began asking questions as soon as they crossed under a crumbling archway.
“What happened to Faramir to leave him needing medicine?”
“He was shot at least twice, I’m not sure when. Sometime yesterday.”
"Where has he been?”
“Well, he got shot when he was fighting in Osgiliath, and then the horse dragged him back, and that probably made it worse, actually, but then Denethor put him away someplace for a day or so and then brought him into the tombs and tried to burn him alive.”
Aragorn froze for a moment. “What?”
“Denethor lost his mind just before the battle started, he tried to burn Faramir alive on a pyre. And himself too, I think. He thought the world was ending.”
“Where is Denethor now?”
“He jumped off the wall.”
Aragorn took up walking again, now at a faster stride. “Boromir is with his brother now?”
"Yes,” Pippin confirmed, doing his best to keep up with Aragorn’s pace.
“Does he know what happened?”
That was a good question, actually. Had Pippin explained the situation at all? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember most of today, to be honest- it was all a blur of screams and fire.
He remembered the blinding panic he’d felt when heavy footsteps had entered the tombs. He remembered clutching his sword with sweaty hands and bracing himself to get torn to shreds by uruk-hai, and then abandoning his sword to hurl himself at Boromir once he’d heard the man’s voice. What had Boromir said, though? Anything? Had Pippin said anything?
He remembered Boromir dropping heavily onto his knees. The look on his face had been awful. He looked sad and scared and sick all at once. Pippin had never been sure what the word anguish meant, but he was sure now.
“I don’t think so,” Pippin finally answered.
 Aragorn muttered something to himself, a string of elvish words that Pippin had never heard before. It sounded like what Legolas said when he missed a shot, though, so Pippin could wager a guess at what it meant.
At last, they reached the door to the House of Stewards. Pippin darted through, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Aragorn was still following. Through the foyer, around the smoldering remains of the pyre, down the corridor on the right, and there they were. The lords of Gondor. Not quite as Pipping had left them.
Boromir had extracted Faramir from the alcove where Pippin had dragged him to lay his brother out in the open. The fine silk tunic Faramir had worn lay in oil-soaked shreds scattered about the floor, and the mail shirt he’d had on underneath was similarly cast aside, half-obscuring a puddle of vomit near the entry to the alcove. Pippin was sympathetic- being in this place made him want to retch, too.
Faramir lay on his side in his undershirt. The fabric had been white once, Pippin knew, but blood, oil and ash had colored it through. Boromir knelt at his back, holding him steady by the upper arm with one hand and gently tearing the cloth of the ruined shirt with the other. The cloth didn’t move the way it should when Boromir tugged it. It stuck stubbornly to Faramir’s scorched upper back and shoulder, like it had been glued there.
Pippin gasped in horror as the realization hit him. Boromir couldn’t get Faramir’s shirt off because it was stuck to his burnt skin, fused in place by the heat of the fire. Had his skin melted? Could skin melt? The thought alone sickened him.
Boromir must have heard Pippin gasp, because his head snapped up to fix the hobbit with a wild stare.
Pippin didn’t usually think of Boromir as frightening. Fearsome, of course, but not to his friends. Certainly never to Pippin.
He looked frightening now. His eyes were wide, and his pupils were tiny pinpoints. His lips were pulled back into an animalistic expression, somewhere between a grimace and a snarl, showing just a hint of teeth. His shoulders curled forward, hunching slightly over Faramir’s still form, and through his thin, damp shirt Pippin could see he was shaking with pent up energy.
When Pippin was younger, one of Farmer Maggot’s dogs had gone missing. They’d found the creature hiding under a shed, nursing a bleeding paw, growling and snapping at any hobbit that tried to approach. Boromir did not make a sound, but Pippin swore he could hear the same wounded dog’s growling all the same.
Pippin felt rather than heard Aragorn approaching from behind him, and it was a great relief when Boromir’s gaze flicked up off his face to fixate on Aragorn instead. With what seemed to be a tremendous effort, Boromir opened his mouth to speak.
“Where is Denethor?” he rasped, voice shaking.
Aragorn took a cautious step forward, moving in front of Pippin. He held his hands up, fingers splayed open, the way he did when trying to settle a spooked horse. “Boromir, my brother-” he began, voice soft and steady.
Boromir interrupted before he could take another step. “Tell me where my father is, Aragorn,” he croaked. “Tell me so I can find him and gut him.”
“He’s dead,” Pippin blurted. “He set himself on fire and then he went off the edge of the wall and died.”
Aragorn stiffened. Boromir’s jaw went slack. He heard gasps from the men carrying the stretcher behind him.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken. Gandalf was always telling him something to that effect.
Boromir let out long, low groan and slumped in on himself, bowing his head so low his forehead grazed Faramir’s hair. He released the firm grip he’d been maintaining on his brother’s upper arm to grab fistfuls of his own hair instead.
Aragorn moved swiftly to kneel beside Boromir. He wrapped one arm around Boromir’s shoulders and pulled him into a lopsided embrace. Boromir went without protest, deflated and boneless against his king. Aragorn spoke to him, too softly for Pippin to hear, and coaxed him to shuffle backwards just a pace or two to create space at Faramir’s side. The two half-forgotten men with the stretcher between them seized their opportunity and swept in to gather Faramir up. Boromir twitched forward when they lifted his brother, but Aragorn held him back with a hand on his chest. With quick, synchronized steps, Faramir was taken out of the tombs.
Louder now, so Pippin could hear again, Aragorn spoke with real regret in his voice. “I must follow them. I promise I will give all the skill I have to make Lord Faramir well.”
“I’m coming,” Boromir stated.
Aragorn fixed him with a hard stare. “It will be ugly,” he warned. “I’ll have to cut the shirt off his back, and I expect much of his skin to come with it. If he wakes it will be to scream.”
“I know,” said Boromir.
“I would rather not find your blade shoved through my heart while I work.”
Boromir flushed. “I would not.”
Aragorn raised one eyebrow. “All the same, if you wish to follow, leave your sword at the door for my peace of mind.”
Boromir opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it and simply bowed his head in assent. Aragorn hauled himself to his feet and offered Boromir a hand up, which Boromir accepted without hesitation.
“Can I help?” Pippin asked, surprising himself.
Aragorn eyed him up and down. One corner of his lips twitched upward. “Yes, Pippin, I think you can help us all very much by staying at Boromir’s side and keeping him calm. If you have any more news to deliver, however, perhaps you could share it beforewe enter the House of Healing?”
Pippin recognized the admonishment for what it was and ducked his head, chastened. On the other hand, now that he mentioned it-
“Gandalf’s staff is broken,” he announced.
Aragorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I see. Thank you, Pippin. Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Very well. If you think of something, take Boromir out into the hall and tell him.” Aragorn turned to Boromir and spoke sternly. “Boromir, if Pippin takes you out into the hall, I forbid you to pick up your sword until we have had a chance to speak.”
Boromir huffed out something very close to a laugh. “Wise council, my king.”
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Note
BBYG PART TWO OF GUILTY AS SIN PLEASE I LUV UR WORKSSSS
i hope you guys enjoy this!! i had a lot of fun with it. it’s technically part two but i gave it a different title sorry :)
~~~
Fresh Out The Slammer
James Potter x f!reader
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warnings: smut, protected p in v, fingering, slight oral (f receiving), very slight underage alcohol but barely, morally idk how good this is, lmk if i missed any
summary: after you and Remus finally split, you and James finally come together…
word count: 2.8k
a/n: another taylor fanfic hahaha (i love this) lmk what you guys think of the end i thought it was really clever but maybe that’s just me being overconfident…
~~~
I did my time
Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer
I know who my first call will be to...
~~~
When you look back on your days at Hogwarts, you always wonder why you and Remus stayed together so long.
It was a week after your monumental conversation with James on the grass that your overdue breakup occurred. You had tried your hardest to give your relationship one last try, you really did. But one night as you laid next to the tall lanky boy, all you could think about was a certain pair of hazel eyes. A pair that didn’t belong to the boy next to you.
That was the final straw.
“Rem,” you said, your voice cool. “I think it’s best we break up.”
You kept your eyes on the canopy above, but you could feel him shift beside you. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, I think this is overdue. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so...” he replied.
You turned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting calmly as could be with a book in one of his hands. A sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you simply stood and began to dress yourself. He was the one to speak again.
“Would it be all right if we remained friends?” He asked his eyes on you for what felt like the first time in a while.
“Of course. Let’s not make it odd for everyone else,” you answered.
He looked back down at his book. “Right. Good night then.”
On the walk back to your dorm you named every reason in your head why you broke up with Remus. He was distant. He didn’t know how to treat you like a true girlfriend. The spark had died between the two of you. The relationship had truly just run its course. But as you stepped into the common room your eyes found the most significant reason.
You refused to put him on your mental list.
~~~
You didn’t know if it was out of respect for Remus or if it was intentional at all, but James waited a few weeks before making any sort of move on you. You were glad. Adjusting to a single life was strange. You no longer spent time alone with Remus, you no longer cried or had fits because of his behavior. He was simply another one of your friends. You liked him better that way.
When James did give you a sign, it was far from subtle.
It came during Charms in the form of a small piece of paper. Of course, Charms happened to be the only class the two of you had together that Remus was not in as well. In fact, the only other member of your friend group who was in the class was Peter and he never paid much attention to anything. So, when you felt the piece of paper hit your lap, you didn’t hesitate to open it.
How’s the single life treating you so far? -J
You turned your head to look at James, a smile on your lips. He was already looking at you, a similar smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as you scribbled your reply and threw it back to him.
It’s better than I expected, most things are the same.
He was quick to throw it back.
That’s true except now you’re free to do whatever you’d like..
You held in a breath.
More like whomever I’d like
You let out a shaky breath at his reply.
Yeah? Well, you know where my bed is
For a few seconds, you stared at the note, not sure if you should write anything more. You turned back to look at him and your eyes instantly met his. He looked at you with a gleam that you hadn’t seen in a boy's eyes in a long time, at least not one directed toward you. So, you picked up your quill and wrote back, not a single guilty thought crossing your mind.
I suppose I’m going to know what it feels like soon too
~~~
Another long week passed before anything happened between you and him. And each day that passed only filled you with more desire. You felt almost giddy at the thoughts. A secret hookup with James Potter. It was something you’d imagined for a long time, but for so many reasons you never imagined it would actually be brought to life.
But it was.
One night, there was a party in the Ravenclaw common room that everyone was attending. Everyone except you. Or so you thought.
“Are you sure y/n/n? It’ll be so much fun,” Lily questioned. You were all in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, but you sat on the couch in your bedclothes.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the party mood tonight. Plus, I have some work that still needs to be done,” you answered honestly.
“Boring!” Sirius exclaimed. “Don’t worry lovely I’ll make sure to save some alcohol for you.”
“Thanks, Sirius,” you said with a laugh.
“Let’s go, Wormtail, Moony, Prongs.”
“Actually, you lot can go without me. I’m not feeling the greatest.”
Your eyes shot to James. What was he doing? You noticed what he was wearing. A wifebeater and flannel pants. You swore you never wanted to shag him more than at that moment.
“Are you serious?” Sirius groaned. “Whatever mate you’re no fun. We’ll be back later.”
“All right, have fun,” James replied.
“Bye, y/n/n!” The girls sang as they left.
You waved them all goodbye before getting up and turning to the staircase. You could feel James’s eyes burning into you from behind.
“Seems it’s just the two of us for once,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
Your stomach filled with butterflies. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with some Charms work, I know you have the homework as well perhaps we can do it together...” From the tone of his voice, you knew it wasn’t true. But still, you turned and gave him a slight nod. “It’s all in my dorm, let’s just go up there to do it.”
Deep down, you knew you should’ve felt bad. James was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. If any of them knew about your sinful thoughts, you’d surely be thrown out of the group and shunned. However, while that knowledge made you feel uneasy, it didn’t stop you from following him up to the dorm.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, James’s lips were on yours. Though it came as a surprise, you didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss him back. His lips were warm and soft, just how you had always imagined. It was messy and quick and when he broke it you found yourself breathless. All you could do was stare at him, your cheeks pink.
“James I-”
“We can take our time if you’d like, I’m sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he replied as if he could read your mind.
“Me too, you don’t understand.” You inhaled deeply and took a few steps deeper into the dorm you were all too familiar with. Only this time, you sat on a different bed. “This doesn’t feel real.”
He sat down next to you on his bed, his glowing hazel eyes locked on yours. “Believe me, I understand everything.”
“I just... want you,” you mumbled. It felt so good to finally say it. You placed one of your hands on his thigh. “I want you a lot.”
He smiled in a way that practically sent shivers down your spine. “I want you too.”
“So, take me. You don’t... you don’t have to be gentle,” you whispered with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Instead of answering you with words, James leaned closer and caught your lips in another kiss. This time though, it wasn’t messy and rushed. No. It was passionate, it was a kiss that would leave you giggling on your bed when you looked back on it. As your lips moved against his you followed his lead and laid back on the mattress with your legs parted for him to slip in between.
His hands were far bigger than yours. When he slid one of them up your thigh you almost couldn’t remember how to breathe. You kissed him harder and weaved your fingers through his soft curly hair. He toyed with your shorts for a moment before carefully slipping his hand beneath the fabric. It would be an understatement to say you were wet. You were soaked. And you could feel James’s smirk on your mouth when he discovered this.
“Are you always like this?” He mumbled.
You shook your head. “Only when it comes to you.”
“Good.”
He wasted no more time and moved his fingers under your knickers, finding your clit almost instantly. You gasped, one of your hands gripped his strong shoulder tightly, and your eyes squeezed shut.
“James,” you moaned.
He began to trail wet kisses down your neck as he continued to rub soft circles on your clit. Never mind thinking straight, you couldn’t think at all. Your stomach was warm, and waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. You swore you’d never felt anything as good in your life. But when your hand brushed against his shirt you sighed.
“Take it off, take everything off. Please,” you whispered frantically.
You opened your eyes to see James’s bright smile. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without another word, he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His muscles were toned, yet he was still skinny. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but you settled on dragging your fingers up and down his chest for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” he said.
You silently sat up and lifted your tank top over your head and threw it down to the floor. Perhaps it was the amount of lust that consumed you, or perhaps it was the amount of comfort you felt with James. Either way, you didn’t cower or feel insecure as his eyes moved across your naked breasts. In fact, you felt confident. So, you laid back down on his bed and began to pull your shorts and knickers down, your eyes not leaving his.
Only when you were fully naked did you feel a slight feeling of insecurity. James must’ve noticed this though because he leaned over you and pressed a sincere kiss to your lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over one of your breasts. “So perfect.”
“Fuck me, James, please I can’t bear it any longer,” you replied quickly. It was true, you’d already waited so many months in silence. How were you expected to wait even a second longer?
“I think you can afford to bear it for a few more minutes. I want to have my way with you first.”
You were going to protest, but before you could he slid his hand between your thighs. He swirled his fingers over you, collecting your wetness before eventually carefully moving one of his fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and gripped his sheets hard. It was an even better feeling than you’d imagined. He kissed you hungrily as he slowly started finger fucking you.
As if that wasn’t enough, he kissed down your body minutes later before ending with his face between your thighs. You couldn’t contain your whimpers and moans. If anyone was near the Gryffindor boy's dorm, they’d surely hear you. The fact neither of you thought enough to cast a silencing charm only made it more thrilling.
By the time you reached your first orgasm, you were quite sure you’d never felt anything nearly as good in your life. Remus never cared enough to spend his time pleasuring you, at least not after the first few months. But James cared a whole lot. He touched you with his tongue and his fingers till you were shaking and panting for a break.
When he did stop you watched through heavy lids as he wiped his mouth on your thigh and began to pull down his last remaining articles of clothing. His eyes were glowing, and his glasses were almost falling off his face. You decided then that he was by far the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. And when your eyes trailed down his naked body you found yourself an even bigger reason as to why that statement was true.
“Are you on the potion?” He asked as he began to move over you.
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice weak.
He smirked. “You’re a dirty girl hm?”
“For you yes.”
“How so?”
You smiled sweetly and reached up to remove James’s glasses. “Truthfully? Sometimes I touch myself when I think of you.”
“You’ll have to show me next time.” He shifted and you felt his tip brush against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. “Is this what you think about?”
“S-Sometimes yes,” you said with a shaky voice.
All you could do as he slowly began to thrust into you was gasp and wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. He was big and you were still sensitive from how hard you previously came. Those factors only amplified how good he felt. Once he was fully in, he leaned down to connect your lips in another heated kiss before truly starting the shag.
Though Remus would fuck you hard, he never fucked you the way James did. James went hard, he went fast, but he also showed he still cared. At one point, he removed one of your hands from his back and pressed it against the mattress, lacing his fingers through yours. And his lips were either on yours, on your neck, or whispering sweet praises. Even the way he said your name was enough to tell you how much he cared about you.
You didn’t know how long it went on, but it was long enough that he started to grow tired. At that point, you’d already reached your second orgasm, so you decided he deserved a break. With all your strength, you flipped your positions and took some control. You lowered yourself onto him and nearly came a third time from the sounds he made.
When everything was done and over, the two of you laid next to each other out of breath and shocked at what had transpired. You felt your heart pound in your chest and a sticky feeling between your thighs. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you. He, of course, was already looking at you, his glasses back on.
“That was...”
“Better than any of my fantasies,” you told him.
“Mine too,” he agreed with a smile.
You bit down on your lip. “So now what?”
“Perhaps another go?”
That was an offer you could never refuse.
~~~
Hours later, past midnight at least, the door to the boy's dorm opened and the other three Marauders stumbled in. Sirius was far too drunk; he could barely stand up straight. That left Remus and Peter to stand on either side of him with their arms wrapped around his back protectively. All their eyes found you and James after a few seconds. The two of you sat on his bed, a foot of papers between the two of you.
“Oh, hello y/n,” Peter greeted you.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Remus questioned.
Sirius only gasped overdramatically. “They’re shagging! Prongsie and Lovely are shagging!”
You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”
“Can I have a go first? Before bed? Please! Is that all right Moony?” Sirius stumbled over his words as his friends dropped him into his bed.
“Nobody’s having a go unless it is Moony,” James said.
Remus turned toward you, a questioning expression on his face. “What are you doing up here?”
You pointed at the many papers on James’s bed. “Charms homework, I told you lot that’s why I wasn’t going to the party. James felt a bit better, so we just decided to work on it together.”
“Will I be allowed to use that work?” Peter asked innocently.
“Of course, Pete,” you replied. You turned back to James’s bed where he still sat, and you began to gather your work. “I should be going then.”
You held your papers close to your chest and tried your hardest not to look at James. You knew if you did, something on your face would clearly show what had really gone on. So, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could to their door.
“Same time next week then?” James’s voice caught your attention as you were about to leave.
You looked over your shoulder and nodded, trying your hardest not to blush. “Or sooner, I’m very eager to get this work done.”
“All right, sooner, goodnight then,” James replied with a knowing look.
The last thing you heard before leaving was the innocent voice of Peter asking if he could join in and the loud laugh that James let out.
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lalunalando · 2 days
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Ruins - CS55
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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff, teasing, car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)
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Mallorca was a place that unless you had been there to see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe such a place could be real.
Yet here you were, laughing along with your boyfriends family, glass of wine in one hand and his hand in the other, enjoying the beautiful weather at his family’s holiday home on the beautiful island.
Looking beside you, you couldn’t help the genuine smile planted peacefully on your face as Carlos joked around with his cousins, looking carefree amongst the people who made him the happiest in this world, which for the past few years has included you.
“So how are you enjoying mallorca so far?” His mother asks from across the table, bringing your attention back to the conversation amongst the women.
“I have never seen a place more beautiful, it’s like you take a breath in and you’re instantly at peace” you respond with a smile, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand to remind you he’s still there.
“We’re so glad you were able to make it this time, Carlos was so insufferable last holidays, always sulking about how much he misses you” his younger sibling Ana teases from the end of the table, earning a grape thrown at her by the embarrassed man to your right.
“I wasn't sulking!” he argues back with a pout.
“cabron, you spent more time pouting at her social medias than actually having a conversation with us” his best friend Roberto shot back from his other side, earning him a sharp elbow to the side.
“aww, obsessed much? i might have to tell my boyfriend i have a stalker” you jokingly teased, making his family burst out laughing around the table.
The Sainz family had been nothing but warm and welcoming since the first time you had met them, instantly accepting you into the family and making you comfortable.
Not having such a close relationship with your own family, this had meant the world to you that without a second thought they had welcomed you into theirs with open arms, Ana and Blanca instantly swapping secrets and clothes with you, Reyes showing you how to cook Carlos’ favorite meals for every mood, Carlos Sr teaching you everything motorsports related he could (excited when he learnt you were already a fan of it before and eager to learn the ins and outs of the industry), Caco making sure you were always safe on race weekends and taken as care of as Carlos was by the team, and even Teto who became a like an older brother figure to you (bullying included.)
You felt safe, you felt home, and you could never love anyone more than the man beside you.
The only downside you had found to this beautiful family trip, was the lack of alone time you and Carlos had been granted.
It had been a bit of a rough season so far, with his contract with Ferrari being announced to be ending at the end of the season, meaning while he was having an extremely impressive year on track, he spent every other moment off track in talks with other teams for a contract for the next season.
Luckily, he was in high demand so there was no issue with obtaining one, it was just about choosing who would be the best fit for him, and it had to be decided by the end of this summer holiday.
All you wanted was a little alone time, starting to grow needy by the day and constantly reminded by the teasing touches your boyfriend would leave you with, like right now as he ran his fingers along your thigh under the table.
It was frustrating, any time something was about to happen between the two of you, someone would pop up.
Like this morning, a heavy make out session brought on by his morning wood poking into your back when you woke up? Interrupted by his mother knocking on the bedroom door letting you know breakfast would be ready in 5 minutes.
Last night in the pool, thinking everyone else had well and truly gone to bed? Roberto cannonballing into the pool after noticing you two were still up to annoy.
You loved them all, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but you were getting needy and desperate for your boyfriend.
”Caro, are you feeling okay? you zoned out on us…” Reyes asks with concern, nodding for Ana beside you to top up your water for you.
“Oh i’m so sorry, must have just had a little too much wine before properly eating, i’m okay!” you assure her, gulping as Carlos’ hand trails further up your thigh.
She just nods with a smile before resuming conversation around the table
“Carlos behave, we are at lunch with your family.” you hiss quietly at him, leaning over to him so no one else could hear the conversation you two were having.
“but conejita, i can’t stop thinking about this morning, you looked so pretty all flushed just from a few kisses, so desperate for me” he responded, his breath tickling your neck and making you almost choke on the sip of wine you were taking.
“Please excuse me, i just need to go make a quick call home before it gets too late over there” you quickly stood up and made an excuse to step away for a second, unable to endure Carlos right now.
Stepping into the kitchen once inside, you braced yourself against the marble countertop and focused on calming yourself down again.
You could feel your skin burning from his touch and the wetness pooling in your panties from all the teasing he was doing, torturing you endlessly.
So focused on trying to regain your composure, you hadn't noticed Carlos come in behind you until he was winding his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest, making sure you felt just how much he was also suffering with his jeans feeling especially tight against his crotch right now.
“Amor, are you okay? you look a little flushed” he smirks as he kisses down your neck.
“are you okay” you respond in a mocking tone, “of course i’m not okay Carlos, you can’t keep your hands to yourself and we haven’t had a moment alone in a week now!”
“aww, is my pretty baby getting needy?” he teases in response, hands starting to wander down to the hem of the short sundress you had opted to wear today.
You turned around quickly, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away lightly to stop his torment.
“don’t act like it’s just me struggling, your zip looks like it might burst any minute now, might want to go take care of that mi amor” Placing a light kiss on his lips before returning to the group outside before he could react.
“So do you guys have anything planned for the rest of the evening?” Blanca asks as you settle back into the group, Carlos following right behind you.
“I was thinking about taking her down to the ruins for the sunset and a beach walk” Carlos responds quickly, grabbing your hand on top of the table as you tilt your head in confusion at him.
“Oh that sounds wonderful hijo, i’m sure she’s going to love that!” Reyes smiles at you both
“the ruins? there’s ruins here?” you ask excitedly, being a known nerd for that sort of thing.
“si, Necropolis de Son Real, it´s an old cemetery from the roman era and before” he smiles as he squeezes your hand, seeing your eyes light up in excitement.
Suddenly you hear an exaggerated sigh from beside carlos, before Teto speaks up
“So you're both abandoning me for the evening to look at nerd shit? Why do you hate me?” sending the table into a fit of laughter as he fake cried.
An hour later, you and Carlos were loading into his Ferrari to head down to the coastal ruins.
A 30 minute drive, but it was uninterrupted time together that you were looking forward to just spending in the presence of your boyfriend.
The smooth Ferrari 812 Competizione roaring to life under you, Carlos gives you a sweet smile as you set off, letting you have control of the radio as per your usual passenger princess duties.
Carlos couldn’t help but look at you lovingly while you sang along to “i like the way you kiss me” by Artemas, dancing in the little ways you could while remaining seated.
“i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me
i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits
not tryna be romantic, i’ll hit it from the back
just so you don’t get attached”
“mi amor, hitting it from the back is what got me attached, have you seen your ass?” he smirks as you swat his arm.
“i should have known you were just with me for my ass” you sigh.
“of course not conejita” he says as he squeezes your thigh before laughing, “you have a nice set of tits too”
Reaching the Santa Margalida coast, you were stunned by the beautiful coastline that awaited you. Getting to the ruins was going to be a bit of a walk but you were too excited to care.
Carlos watched in awe as you skipped up the trail, hair flowing behind you as a breeze moved your dress around your legs, he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky to find someone so beautiful and supportive, someone his family adored, someone he couldn’t wait to spend forever with.
“Carlitos look! look at the cool tomb remains” you exclaim as you finally reach the site
“thankyou so much for bringing me here, i love it so much, this is the coolest thing ever!”
”Mi cariño, i would do anything to make you as happy as you make me by just existing” he responds as he wraps you in his arms and places a kiss to your hair
You spent the next hour exploring around and taking pictures of the site, as Carlos secretly took pictures of you in your element.
Once you had explored it all, he held his hand out for you to take as you started the long trek back to the car.
“so, what has been your favorite thing about this trip so far?” he asks genuinely as you walk down the coastal beach.
“hmmm i’d love to say it was definitely the ruins, but my real favorite thing has been spending time with you and your family. Seeing how happy and carefree you are, i couldn’t love it more” you smile back.
“even though we’ve had no time alone until now?” he says as he pulls you in to wrap his arm around your shoulder.
“don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to have you to myself in our apartment again” you laugh in response.
As you’re about 10 minutes away from the car, a summer shower starts as the sun goes down, making you and Carlos laugh as you run the rest of the way back to the car hand in hand, clothes sticking to you both the wetter they got.
Jumping back into the car, you couldn’t stop laughing about the unexpected turn of events as Carlos just admired the carefree attitude you showed towards it.
His exes before you would have cursed him out, probably blamed him for the weather shift or at the very least for not warning them (like he knew it was going to happen).
It would have led to fights that lasted days, him eventuality having to be the one to apologize even though he had done nothing wrong.
But you? you were sat in the passenger seat, laughing as you tried to unstick your dress from your skin, not phased at all that it had happened.
Without a second thought, Carlos reached over and grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours like he needed the air in your lungs to breathe.
As you both pulled away for air, you gave him a confused look.
“not that i'm complaining, but what was that for? are you okay” you ask.
“i couldn’t be happier, just looking at you makes me realize how lucky i am to have you, i really do love you” he answers sincerely.
You smile and bring him into another kiss, enjoying this peaceful moment shared by just the two of you.
The sun having now set, no one around, just you and your lover.
The peace doesn’t last long though, as Carlos is getting hungrier for you as the kisses deepen.
Before long, he’s moving his seat back as far as it will go and pulling you over the center and onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs as one of his hands grips your waist and the other is tangled in your hair, holding you against him.
You can’t help but whimper as you grind down on his hard cock, the tight material of his jeans not making it easy for him and you could feel it all in the lace panties you wore that barely covered anything as is.
“the sounds coming out of you right now conejita are enough to make me cum at this point if you’re not careful, you’ve left me suffering too many times this week” Carlos groans into your ear before kissing down your neck.
“it hasn’t been any easier for me you know, i can’t do the same things you can when i’ve been in the shower” you tease back, grinding down harder onto him as he hisses.
“you’ve been greedy mi amor? touching yourself without me in the shower?” he growls, almost animalistic.
“don’t act like you haven’t done the same” you smirk back.
Carlos' hand that was tangled in your hair slowly trails down your figure, running lightly over your collarbones and nipples, before settling on your thigh.
He rubs his thumb on your inner thigh, slowly lifting the hem of your dress up your thighs until he can get a peak of your panties.
Seeing the barely-there black lace, he throws his head back and groans at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his jeans.
“Were you trying to kill me today? what is this?” he asks as he brushes his thumb over your clit through the lace, making you whimper in response as he feels just how wet they are.
“Joder, eres tan guapa” he groans as he leans back a little to look, moving the lace to the side as he runs his thumb over the sensitive bud again.
“Carlos please, i-“
“i know pretty girl, i’ll give you what you need in a second, just let me admire” he drools, slipping his fingers through your folds at a teasing pace.
Without warning, he slips two fingers in to stretch you out for what's to come, making you almost scream in pleasure at the feeling.
“what a good girl, taking two so well for me, think you can ride my fingers pretty girl?” he whispers in your ear, biting and sucking at the skin of your neck, openly leaving marks his family will undoubtedly ask about later.
As you rock back and forth on his lap, his fingers curling inside you to hit the right spots as his thumb continues work on your clit, your nails are digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on keeping your pace.
With all the pent up tension from the past week, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your first orgasm approaching.
Carlos feels it too, knowing the all too familiar clench of your walls around his fingers, he’s desperate to bring you over the edge, using the hand on your hip to increase your pace as his fingers work you harder from the inside.
Your hand flies to the now fogged up window, leaving a hand mark on it as you scream his name and cum around his fingers, your hips stuttering in movement as you become overly sensitive.
He draws his fingers out once he knows you're done, looking you dead in the eye as he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean, making your pussy clench at the sight.
You decide to tease him back as he pulls them out, grabbing his hand and putting his fingers in your own mouth before sucking and twirling your tongue around them, making him growl.
He wastes no time in lifting you just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, before lining himself up with your entrance.
“do you think you have another one in you, mi tesoro?” he asks, slapping his tip against your clit and making you whimper as you nod, unable to speak actual words right now.
“good girl, that’s my pretty angel” he praises as he lowers you onto his cock, stretching you out even more at his size.
It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, you’d never be used to his size.
It made sense that he was as big and thick as he was, the man himself being broad and muscular, but you could never truly expect JUST how big he was down there.
The first time you’d slept together, you’d been sure he was going to break you in half.
His hand had not been anywhere near enough over the last week, once he had had a taste of you he could never go back to anything or anyone else, the only way Carlos could describe how you felt around him is “made by god specifically for him” and he made sure it was known.
“fuck amorcita, you take me so well” he groans, his grip on your hip bruising as he settles you into a pace that drives you both absolutely wild.
“Carlos i’m not going to last” you moan, already starting to see the little white dots in your vision again.
“that’s okay princesa, either am i after the week without feeling you, but when we get back to madrid you better be prepared for an entire day of being used” he growls as he fucks up into you, making you yelp at the further sensation.
A few minutes later and you couldn’t hold on any longer, begging for him to let you finish.
“Carlos please, please, i can't hold on any longer can i please cum” you beg, tears lining your eyes as you crumble.
“let go amorcita, cum with me” he groans as he bruises your cervix from the final few thrusts he fucks up into you, feeling you squeezing his cock like a vice.
With his words, you’re screaming out his name over and over, leaving more handprints on the glass as his hand joins yours and squeezes, rain still falling around the car as it’s cloaked in complete darkness now the sun has fully set.
Carlos feels you let go and does the same, filling you completely to the point you can feel it coming out as he slowly thrusts a few more times, getting you both through your highs.
Finally lifting your head off his shoulder from where you rested while regaining your breath and balance, you give him a few light kisses before trying to slide off of his dick without making too much of a mess, unsuccessfully.
He quickly places your panties back into place over your pussy, making sure to give it a light tap for good measure as he chuckles.
All you can do is roll your eyes as you readjust your dress again, before climbing back over to your seat and getting comfortable for the long drive back.
“Well that will tide me over for about… 5 hours i think?” Carlos jokes as he starts the car up and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Try 7 days my love, we still have another week here” you remind him sweetly, a hint of teasing in your voice.
“Nope, i don’t care if my family hears anymore, i’m not going that long without you again” he states, kissing your hand before an evil smile places itself over his face.
“Besides, once Teto gets sight of the bruises i’ve left on your skin, there’s no way we’re hiding what happened today anyway.”
308 notes · View notes
t3ag3rs · 3 days
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i loved your bakugo headcanons omg, the joy i feel when someone writes for characters and actually includes their canonical personalities lol idk if you write for any other characters, if you don't then you can just ignore this, but if you do then could you write similar relationship headcanons for Kirishima or Shinso? :3
hi! im so glad you enjoyed my Bakugou headcannons! I hope this kirishima one fits to your liking! sending lots of love <33
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i definitely think kirishima first ends up seeing you talking to mina on a random day. you and her are just talking about dance when you two are suddenly interrupted by the outgoing redhead inquiring about who you are.
he suddenly realizes that you had went to junior high with them but had never really hung out with the popular group due to having a close circle of friends- one of whom is mina.
"actually? I never saw you..!" he chuckled rubbing his neck with a slight blush, you just wave it off with a quick smile, "nah dont worry bout it.."
well fuck... now at least kirishima knows what exactly he likes the most about you. your gut wrenching, heart pumping, adorable ass smile.
would immediately try and get mina to help him out with you in every. single. way.
"mina, whats her favorite color? And chocolate? To add to that thought- flowers as well. god mina I sound desperate!"
poor baby is so whipped for you he actually cant even manage to hide it in front of you.
kirishimas the type of person to rant to his friends about you with absolutely no knowledge about his surroundings. so much so that he doesnt realize you can hear him occasionally..
do you mind? of course not! its not like you dont have a small- okay fine. major thing for the red head as well...
"kiriiiii..!" groans mina, "stop obsessing over her and just confess goddamnt!" she exclaims frustrated while throwing her hands in the air.
"tell who what?" you grin overhearing their conversation.
you look at the two confused before mina starts, "you see y/n, kirishima here has a-" until you see a hand slapped over her mouth.
"nothing!" grins kirishima quickly. you nod slowly before you see mina side eyeing him with a knowing glance. "fine.." sighs kirishima dropping his hands.
"as i was saying.. our little man over here has a fat crush on you" she says nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. you immediately break out a shit eating grin, "oh- yeah i kinda know.. he isnt very good at hiding things..." you chuckle.
"why didnt you say anything!" whines kirishima, "you couldve saved me so much time and effort!" completely forgetting that you hadnt given an answer to his confession.
"because i thought it was cute.." you admit with slightly flushed cheeks. you look away to avoid making eye contact before you feel kirishimas hands wrapping around your torso.
"so you like me back then right? please say that means you like me back.." he exclaims happily into your neck.
you just smile and wrap your arms back around him to give him his answer.
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rebeliz7 · 2 days
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Ride
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Request: 28, 37 & 64 with Wan? R is in love with Wanda but Wanda is between R and Vision and every time R tries to talk to her about it Wanda just gives excuses and R feels like Wanda just like her for the sex but Wan realizes she's in love too.
Word Count: 2815
28. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”
37. “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”
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Vision is - a good guy. He’s the kind of guy that any woman could date and be certain that he’d never hurt them. He’s reliable and polite, and nice to talk to. He’s a good friend, and even a better partner to have in the field. 
He’s been in love with Wanda for the entirety of his existence. You don’t think he even knew what love was when he fell for her, and still. 
They make a good looking couple, and Wanda seems to fit in his arms. Especially when they’re dancing like they’re currently doing. 
There’s a part of you that wants to desperately go over there and ask him to remove his hands from Wanda’s waist, but she’s not your girlfriend and you’re not generally a jealous person. 
Still, jealousy beats underneath your skin and you don’t like it. You don’t like it at all. 
Before Wanda, and before you got tangled in this situation, you used to despise jealous people and the feeling as a whole. You didn’t quite understand it either, and you often thought that jealousy was just a response to insecurity. 
There is no room for insecurities with Wanda, you know exactly where you’re standing with her. You two are not in a relationship, and you hate to feel possessive of her but you also can’t help it. Just looking at Vision touching her, as innocent as he does now -as he always does-, is enough to drive you mad. 
You turn in your seat, trying to spare yourself from the visuals any longer.
Usually you’d be enjoying a night like tonight. You like to dress up, put on some make up, do you hair and pick a nice outfit to wear. You should be mingling, trying to befriend whatever new person Tony is trying to impress, because that’s what these little parties serve for after all. 
Tonight you sit by the bar by yourself, nursing a drink and although dressed to the nines, you don’t feel like talking to anyone. 
“Can I get some water?” You haven’t even noticed the music changing, even less so Wanda approaching the bar. 
She looks radiant, of course. Her cheeks are flushed the slightest bit, you guess from all that dancing, and she’s smiling widely when she meets your eyes and you’re pulled into her orb immediately. 
“Hi.” You smile and her smile twists into something else, something more meaningful and private. 
“Hi.” She husks out, her voice dropping lower as she walks closer to you and takes the glass of whiskey from your hands to take a drink, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“Thirsty?” You ask as she gently gives the glass back and takes a discrete step backwards. 
She very openly checks you out, her eyes traveling from your face and taking every inch of you where you sit before she meets your stare again. You don’t shy away from her, but you do have - other reactions. 
“Very.” She nods with a sly grin that does inexplicable things to you. 
You breathe in deeply, perhaps in a weak attempt to get a grip of yourself, and you take the opportunity to really look at her too. 
She’s wearing a casual loose black mini dress that looks ridiculously good on her, and that does nothing to conceal the curves you know are under it. Her high heels make her legs look longer than usual, and her hair is down in soft meticulous waves that mixed with that smile, give her an angelic yet sensual appearance altogether. 
“You look amazing.” You smile when you meet her eyes, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement. 
“I feel like you’re talking to my legs.” She says with humor, and you become incredibly desperate to kiss that smile off her lips. 
“Well, obviously.” You reach out as she laughs and you take her hand to pull her closer to you. She wraps one arm around your shoulders and even kisses your cheek, all normal things that can be taken as two friends interacting and nothing more. 
“You look really hot with this.” She whispers, close to your ear, and her hand running down the front of your blazer. 
You swallow with difficulty as she steps backwards again, this time to take the water the waiter has finally brought her. 
She drinks her water and you become entranced with the movement of her throat, and the way her lips stay wet after she puts the glass down. 
Your stomach begins to ache when you can’t control the desire you feel for her, and all that ache slowly travels southwards and you don’t think you can wait another minute to have her. 
“Come on.” You take her hand and you don’t wait to hear an answer, although she’s laughing as she practically jogs behind you to keep up as you pull her out of the suite and towards the elevators. 
The moment the doors of the elevator slide closed you’re kissing her. She’s about to tell you something when you do, and you catch her open mouth in a delicious and drowning kiss. 
She moans softly as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you push her against the metal wall. 
You kiss her fully, your hands on her waist as the taste of her cherry lip gloss invades your senses. Even more so when you let your hands travel further down her body and you don’t feel any other fabric under her dress. 
“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under this, are you..?” You ask against her lips, your throat now dry while you think about her walking and dancing all night long like this. 
“Why don’t you find out.” She husks, her lips gracing yours as she speaks and you feel your knees go weak. 
You swallow with difficulty as your brain short circuits. Your stomach is tied in knots and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never felt as turned on as you feel right now. 
“We need to get to my room.” You tell her with urgency, and she smiles provocatively. 
“You’re taking me to bed?” She asks with an innocent smile that doesn’t fool you at all. 
“Who said anything about a bed?” You retort as you run your hands down her legs, scratching her skin lightly as she combs your hair back with her fingers and you kiss her again. 
You kiss her until the doors slide open, and she’s pushing you lightly with a beautiful smile on her raw kissed lips.
You remove her dress as soon as your bedroom door falls shut behind you, and she laughs at your impatience. You, on the other hand, are not laughing at all because she hasn’t been wearing a thing beneath that dress and the realization makes your skin prickle. 
“You’re such a bad girl.” You tell her as you guide her towards your bed. 
“Only because I know you love it.” She teases you, licking your lips and your jaw before she steps backwards and lays on your bed willingly. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”
You stare at her and you can’t believe her audacity. A few minutes ago she was dancing with a man who she knows is in love with her, and now she’s here, wet and ready for you to do whatever you want with her. 
You don’t make her beg. You could never. No, you live to give her whatever she wants. You yearn to make her cum as many times as she can resist. 
Your face between her legs and your lips wrapped around her clit, you have the pleasure of making her cum and hearing her moan your name, over and over again. 
While she catches her breath you get rid of your clothes, and then you immediately lay on top of her, wanting to feel her body against yours and desperate for a little release yourself. 
“Baby.” She whispers against your ear as she wraps you in her arms, and accommodates your thigh between her legs while pushing hers against your wet heat. “You’re so wet. I love it.” 
Her easy laughter makes your chest flutter, and you kiss her cheek as you try to find a rhythm with your hips. 
“Of course you do.” You smile and she gasps when you push your hips particularly hard. 
“I want to taste you.” She rolls on top of you, and kisses you needly before she kisses down your body wantonly. 
She doesn’t make you beg either, and the visual of her between your thighs, eyes locked with yours as she eats you out without holding back in the slightest, is enough to push you towards the edge. 
You’re laughing when you come back to your senses, and she’s already peppering your face with sweet kisses and a wide grin on her lips. 
“Wanna put on the strap for me?” She asks mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she waits for an answer. 
“What are you thinking?” You ask as you roll the two of you in bed again. Your lips kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.
“I’m thinking - ” she cups your face, a devilish smile on her lips. “You look really well under me and I really want to ride you.”
You swallow thickly, and the next second you’re promptly getting the strap. 
The process of getting it on catches you both in a fit of laughter, but is comfortable and familiar, and you’re caught thinking that you’ve never had this feeling of belonging with anyone before. 
“Lay down and do nothing.” She instructs you when you’re ready, and you swiftly follow her orders.
You watch her take the toy in her hands as she sits on her heels beside you, that smile never leaving her lips as she strokes the fake dick and sends shots of pleasure directly to your clit each time she moves. 
“You want me to suck you?” She asks and you laugh as she moves to sit on your thighs, her hands never stilling. 
“I kinda do.” You nod and she leans forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips before she crawls down the bed. 
To say that watching her give you a blowjob is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen, would be a poor understatement. Not that you don’t use the strap often, you do, whenever you feel like it. But she’s never offered to suck you before, and you think you might have been missing out. 
There’s something about her and her lips as she bobs her head up and down, her eyes never leaving yours as she struggles to breathe and stubbornly wanting to take the whole thing in her mouth at once. 
But there’s a moment when she comes out for air and she looks at you, and you think you can’t wait another second before you’re inside of her, and she seems to have the same thought. 
Grabbing her hand you pull her up and kiss her messily, and almost desperately. She moves to straddle you and you both work on lining the toy with her entrance before she sinks down on it with a heavy sigh and trembling body. 
For a few seconds she just sits there, and you try to stay still. Her head is thrown back, her hands squeezing your thighs behind her as she swallows and breathes in and out. 
You watch her and you know you want her. You want her for good, for yourself and you need to tell her that. 
When she finally moves her hips and her eyes meet yours again, you know you love her and you think she might love you too. 
She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to ride you. She does that enthusiastically for a little while, and when you grab her and roll on top of her, she moans out your name in the most delightful way. 
Her nails are digging on your back as you thrust your hips and fuck her against your mattress as hard as you possible can. 
And when she cums, a tidal wave of pleasure showers you as well, and you cum along with her. 
“I want you.” You tell her as you look up, the toy still buried in her. 
“Again?” She asks breathlessly and amusedly.
“I want you, Wanda. I want to be with you, and I want to be the only person in your life.” You tell her and her smile drops. 
“Let’s not do this tonight, please.” She seems to beg, her hands on your face now, trying to placate you like she’s done many times before. 
“I love you, and I want more than this. I deserve more than this.”
She looks away, still trying to catch her breath and pushes you off of her to be able to get out of bed. 
For a moment all you can feel is rejection, but you take a deep breath as she hurries to grab her dress from the floor and you get up too. 
You throw the damn strap away and you pick up a long shirt and put it on, if only to maintain some sort of dignity in the upcoming exchange. 
“Don’t you dare to leave like this.” You tell her when you see her grabbing her heels and heading for the door.
“What do you want me to say?” She asks you and you walk closer to her. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged and if she walks out right now you have no doubt that anyone who sees her will know what she was just doing. 
“Anything.” You shrug and you see tears gathering in her eyes. “But you can’t just walk away after I told you I love you for the very first time.”
“I really don’t want to ruin this.” She tells you, and her words confuse you.
“How would you ruin this?”
“I always ruin what I love.” She says and you take her hands, letting her heels fall on the ground. 
There it is. 
“That won’t happen with us.” You assure her gently. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you.”
She chuckles when you say that and you go back to feel light, in a way. 
“And I want to be with you. For real this time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. We’re very good at having it, but I want more and something tells me that you do too.”
She doesn’t say anything for a beat, and that’s how you know you’ve hit a point. 
“We will fight.” She argues weakly, and you peck her lips. “We will yell.”
“And then we’ll have make up sex. That’s like, the best sex out there.” You counter, and she laughs. “You love me?” 
“I do.” She nods, her voice soft and honest. She kisses you this time and even presses herself closer to you, so much so that you can feel her heart beating against your own chest. 
“Then no more excuses. We can do this.” You smile and kiss her again. She smiles, her hands on your face as she nods. 
“I’ll have to talk to Vision.” She realizes and you kiss her again. 
“So that’s that?” You ask with a smile. “We’re together now?”
“We are.” She nods and you pick her up and twirl her twice. You’re both laughing when her feet touch the ground again, and things seem to fall back into place. You’re you again.  
“Let him down gently.” You suggest and she takes a deep breath before taking off her dress one more time, and heading straight to your closet and then your bed. 
She’s familiar with your room, she knows where everything is, and she’s stopped asking to borrow your clothes a while ago. You watch her put on some shorts before she looks at you again. 
“I will. He’s such a nice guy.” She says as she throws your comforter to the ground, and you take a clean one from the closet. 
“He really is.” You agree, as you both get under the new comforter. 
“Are we bad people?” 
“Maybe.”
You’ll think about that in the morning, right now you want nothing more than to cuddle your new girlfriend and have a good night’s sleep. 
… 
396 notes · View notes
slytherinshua · 3 days
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HOLD ME CLOSE
genre. comfort. warnings. reader had a really bad day (unspecified reason). pairing. best friend!anton x fem!reader. wc. 417. request. no. a/n. kinda wrote this randomly like 2 nights ago i think?? it's rly short and im not sure if it's any good but it's here anyway lol
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“Can I hug you?”
You had just gotten back home from possibly the worst night of your entire life, and seeing your roommate in the kitchen in his pyjamas and hoodie pulled over his head made your heart clench in your chest. The question slipped out before you had time to think about what you were about to say to your best friend who you’d never had any amount of prolonged skinship with in your entire 4 years of knowing him (though not for a lack of wanting to).
Anton was silent for a second, slightly shocked by your question, and still holding a spoon in his hand from his long empty bowl of cereal. His brain couldn’t exactly process your question before his eyes flitted to your face and he was nodding quickly. He probably would’ve interrogated you or even teased you about it given how unusual it was, but you looked like you desperately needed to be held tightly, and all Anton cared about suddenly was making sure you were okay. 
You were glad he didn’t say anything, because you probably would’ve burst into tears if he had. You weren’t ready to talk about why you felt so awful— all you craved for was silent comfort. Relief flooded through you as soon as Anton wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you close to his chest.
You closed your eyes and hugged him back, focusing on evening your breath to his in order to calm down. The right side of your face rested over his heart, and you could hear it beating steadily, maybe a tiny bit faster than usual, but you didn’t focus on it. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It felt so comfortable, so right, in his arms that time seemed to slow. It felt like even breathing too loudly would completely break the moment, so Anton worked extremely hard to keep his breath soft.
He wasn’t sure what or who had made your night turn sour, but he was determined to be there to make it better; not just now, but in the future as well. He hadn’t realized it before, but as he held you close in his arms, noticing how perfectly you fit in them, as if you were made for it, he realized you had been the only one in his heart for some time. And he hoped you would be the last person he held, and the last to fill every corner of his heart.
↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,
@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,
@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi
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hawkinsbnbg · 3 days
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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lani-heart · 20 hours
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of abuse, anxiety / paranoia, etc. words -> 2K
abstract -> Everything was lie... did I become who I hate?
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y/n's perspective
“How’d it go?” San asked me as I just got comfortable in his arms.
“You shouldn’t get too comfortable, you need to get out of these clothes,” Yeosang said and I sighed. “You guys are watching the news?” I asked as I saw the TV on. “So far they’ve captured over eighty hybrids,” Wooyoung said and I felt disgusted that such people could do such things. “How was it?” San asked and I sighed. 
“There was this duo… one of them promised to help me if I got the circus shut down. I’ll have to do interviews and then it’s over” I said and they nodded.
“Just be careful… surely they’re being tested in which codes they’ll fit into,” Yeosang said and I nodded. I was planning on leaving when I heard a buzz by the elevator. 
“Miss l/n, there are two friends of yours wanting a visit” I heard and I was confused… Wonyoung, Johnny, and Yuta were the only ones to visit me unannounced and they were allowed up here without an announcement so who?
“We’re expecting guests?” Wooyoung asked and I was just as confused as them. “They have lots of bags and suitcases. One of them is named Zhong Chenle?” he said and I felt my eyes light up. I ran to the elevator. “Yes, let them up,” I said, noticing the three boys behind me looking confused at my sudden outburst. 
“Who’s that?” Yeosang asked and I smiled. “Some friends, who used to work in the clinic but decided to study abroad in China, didn’t tell me they got back,” I said now excited to see them but I could tell that Yeosang and San weren’t happy about them. 
“We heard you adopted three hybrids but we almost didn’t believe it” I heard and sighed at the sight of them. They carried a whole lot of bags… “I told you not to get me anything” I scolded and Chenle waved it off. “Well, you should’ve expected better,” Jisung teased. I chuckled. “Isn’t that?” Jisung wandered off while looking behind me. 
“Oh? Did they not tell you about Wooyoung?” I asked and they shook their heads. “No, but I would recognize that face anywhere,” Jisung said as I saw Wooyoung wag his tail and grow a smile on his face. 
“We thought you didn’t want to see us,” Chenle asked and he sighed. “Long story, but he’s mine now,” I said and the two laughed. 
“We’ve come to leave a few things, our dorm is getting crowded,” Chenle added and I sighed. They must’ve bought a bunch of stuff for the group… “How much?” I asked and they groaned. “You know how NingNing and Wonyoung are '' Jisung said and I could already imagine the whole bunch of text they must've sent them for errands. 
“Don’t forget Johnny-hyung,” Chenle added. “Well thanks for thinking of me, was it fun?” I asked and they grinned. “You need to see Chenle’s house” Jisung fanboyed 
“Though apparently, we don’t get a break we got back yesterday and Kun and Doyoung-hyung want us in already” Chenle added and I nodded. The circus hybrids…
“They don’t seem bad” “Hmm? They’re really nice, they bribe you with expensive stuff” I heard them whisper behind me. “Good luck! Be safe, I'll be over there soon either way!” I said and they nodded as they said their goodbyes before leaving. 
I peeked inside the bags and smiled… 
“Looks like hybrid stuff,” I said and that got the three of them their attention. 
“This is so hard to find!” Yeosnag said as he looked at the lotions and perfumes. “How’d they know?” San asked and I shrugged. One of my friends must've told them…
“Pretty” Wooyoung said as he found jewelry. Just how much did they buy for me?! I even saw expensive toys and clothes. 
San seemed to like the video games and perfumes, Yeosang found all the expensive brand skincare, Whilst Wooyoung found a bunch of toys…
I needed to get ready soon for the interviews…
“Hey! That's mine, it's in my pile!” and they are already fighting… thanks a lot Chenle and Jisung.
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seonghwa's perspective
This place was… paradise and hell. I know I was lucky… while others are either being taken by facilities or breeding farms. 
Most of the hybrids were red coded and very few were black codes. I was yellow… because I behaved or I wanted to trust humans. 
I was just hoping Hongjoong was still here…
“His partner is a red code so be careful. He’s well behaved but… you can’t be too sure” I heard and I saw the door open. 
It was her again!
“Press the button if you feel unsafe at any time,” the staff member said as they left her alone with me? They never do that… Some humans have passed by to adopt and there’s always someone with them.
“Hello,” she said and I smiled softly. “Thank you… you actually went through with it” I said and she nodded. 
“Now it’s time for your part,” she said and I nodded. 
“What do you need to know?” I asked and she looked at her notebook as if seeing what to ask first.
“Let’s talk about the MATZ show,” she asked and I nodded.
“Hongjoong and I are… we’re the only tigers there. We were born there but we’re not related, they decided to pair us up as an act. They decided to make it more dangerous each show… testing our limits” I said whilst she wrote it down. I wonder what she had down… was she analyzing me? Was she even qualified to?
“Can I ask you something?” I asked and she stopped writing to look at me. “Do you own hybrids? Actually, no I know you own three, why are you helping hybrids if you own them?” I asked not wanting to be dismissive about her. 
“I do, I have a panther, a Doberman, and a fox. I adopted them here actually… and besides they didn’t have a chance to get adopted by anyone else so I adopted them to help them not because I'm a hybrid collector” she explained and I nodded. Was she telling the truth?
The interview went on about details which she left to talk to the doctor. 
“Seonghwa, on your best behavior.” I heard as I saw the employee open my kennel and put on the basic safety equipment. I was led to a different area… the red codes. Most of the kennels were glass-enclosed and so I saw a lot of hybrids staring at me with threatening glares. 
I saw her again though. She was in front of a kennel that was closed. “Behave, y/n, Kun is trusting you to be careful with him. He isn't aggressive but be careful, there's a button in case you feel that you can’t handle it anymore” the employee said as the leash was now given to her. y/n is her name… where have I heard that before?
She opened the curtain…
“Hongjoong!!” I yelled as I got close to the glass. “Seonghwa? You’re okay!” he said back and I was relieved. He’s alive… but he’s a code red. 
“What are you doing with her?” he asked as he glared at her. “She’s conducting interviews with hybrids… I actually don’t know why I'm here?” I said and she sighed. “Doyoung your doctor is worried about you guys being separated since you guys are a bonded pair” she explained.
Bonded pair?
“I won’t answer any questions from the hybrid owner,” he said and she sighed. I was curious about her hybrids… it was a weird combination and she said she adopted them here. 
“You don’t need to worry about them,” she said and he laughed at her. “They are bonded to you,” Hongjoong said and I realized he was right. She’s bonded to them…
“What did you do to have three hybrids bonded to you?” he asked demeaningly and she sighed. “That's my personal business.
Currently, I'm trying to help–” “You can’t do anything. You think if you bring him here in front of me it'll save you? If I get out of this glass cage I'd gladly get revenge for what humans did to me” he threatened and I sighed. I shook my head at him knowing I couldn’t help stop him. 
“Press your silly little button. Go home to your stupid little manipulated hybrids, I won't have to do anything cause one day they’ll turn on you. Hybrids will do anything to survive, even bond themselves to silly little humans” he said and I could see that struck a nerve in her. 
“If you comply–” “No, get that through your head. Believe it or not I am behaving enough to keep myself alive–” he started shuffling around showing he was actually out of his constraints. “–you aren’t safe. No hybrid owner is the cause at the end of the day we are animals. I could smell a cat hybrid on you… and a domestic one he could kill you. In your sleep or at any time, they’ll overpower you and you’ll deserve it” he said and I could see her eyes hold fear in them.
“Hongjoong stop,” I said and he scoffed. “Is she gonna cry? So sensitive… im telling the truth your firm does hybrid rights, you know the stories of hybrids killing their owners. Claws ripped the skin at their throats, cannibalistic tendencies, poison, and so much more. One day you’ll be on the cover–” She took a shaky deep breath and left… ran away. “Hongjoong that was unnecessary,” I said and he laughed. He had fun doing that… “It is the truth. You can’t deny it” he said and it was a possibility. 
“She seemed nice.. And in all honesty I'd rather be here than in that circus” I said and he laughed. “It's all the same, dear friend. Besides… “ he trailed off without smiling. 
“If she reacts like that… she knows it's true. So she isn’t the good little hybrid owner you think she is”
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y/n perspective
That’ll never happen… they– everything is okay. They’re happy… but– San doesn’t like humans and didn't like me. Was it because he had to adapt? Wooyoung… he… he likes me right? Yeosang… he… did he decide to be with me because I could help him?
Not everything is real… but, San did… does hate me?
“Miss?” I heard taking me out of my thoughts. He was a man in a hat and a trenchcoat. “Are you okay?” he asked and I tried to compose myself but my eyes kept on producing tears… 
“Hey, don't cry. Please get up, Miss. You should be so vulnerable in the street there are terrible people–” I started crying more after that. Am I a terrible person?
“No no no… please don’t cry,” he said. “Miss, someone as pretty as you should be crying,” he said but it didn't help. False and empty compliments. 
Am I actually the same type of person that I expose? 
“What's bothering you?” he asked and I tried calming myself. “Is owning hybrids a bad thing?” I asked and he sighed. “Do you care and love them?” he asked and I nodded. “I just don’t think… They care for me. Hybrids will do anything to adapt and please their owners… I know that so– this is why I didn't want a hybrid! I-I… don't know what to do” I was lost. 
“Miss, please calm down. Hybrids… do adapt but you obviously care for your hybrids and I promise you, you’re overthinking. Did they tell you that?” he asked and I shook my head. 
“If you care for them so much and they care for you, that's enough. Not everyone shows kindness to hybrids” he said and I tried to stop the tears. 
“You shouldn’t be crying like this miss,” he said and I nodded
He helped me up from my crouching position and patted my head. “Someone like you should be crying like this for silly things. If you care for them this much I bet they care for you just as much maybe even more” he comforted and I smiled softly. 
“Oh did you drop this?” he asked as I saw my wallet. “Oh… thank you. I’m sorry I must've taken you from what you were doing!” I said and he chuckled. 
“No, of course not Miss. I didn’t mind, helping you” 
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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ghastlyaffairs · 9 hours
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for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of
also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut
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the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)
#hs#homestuck#dirk strider#eye strain#probably? if you think i should tag something else let me know!!#anyway hooray its time for rambling in the tags#so uhhh heres the teæ i've been sick for like a week and you know how it is when suddenly your throat becomes the main gunk warehouse#and you can't breathe lol. wish i could just pull it out. anywaaayy this is basically a vent piece for me being sick lol#also i could draw remotively the same thing with kris deltarune. oh how easy it is to project having a cold#though i have been also experiencing troubles with feelings recently as well....how fitting for dirk#speaking of the man himself (enough of me) his relationship with his own Heart...is peculiar to say the least#the thing i love about alphakids is that despite being so feral they were. so relatable. i cannot stress this enough how unwell they are an#and how they represented being a teen so well. yeah being 15 years old makes that to you#imagine being an emotional mess and trying to fit the 'norm' and act normal about your friends so youre not offputting#and then you fall in love with you friend and your ai clone falls in love with him too looool noone makes out of this one alive#uhh literally. godtiering stuff and dying remember#and speaking of it. tw for suicidal talk for the rest of tags#do you ever think dirk was suicidal. of course the part of when he teleports his head to jake was totally planned and he knew he would ->#wake up as dreamself but. don't you think the moment he cut his head off was sort of. cathartic. how much did he hate his own guts#beheading himself not only for the plan...but also because he thought he 'deserved' it#also wow he is a Prince and was literally beheaded don't you think its funny hahaa#sigh poor thing#this has ended on a not the very pleasant note hm#also fckkkkkk i didn't draw anything with rose/mary for the lesbian visabilty week#(putting the slash because tumblr search system has a dumb gag with showing you posts that contain the tag inside the other tag.#and i don't want this post to show up for the ros/mary fans because it's not!!!! its rose's father emotional crisis post!!!!)#update YOOOO WHAT THE HELL THE GIF HAS EVEN LESS PIXELS THEN I PLANNED fantastic#this your breakfast now tumblr. enjoy your crunchy flakes of dirks meltdown. mwah
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cerise-on-top · 3 days
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what if the 141 boys had a ridiculously tall husband. like. a little bit taller than konig, probably. and he's really scary to people, actually!!!! but not his s/o , nuh uh, he's disgustingly sweet to his beloved.. sorry i'm rambling, i think (jokes and idiocy aside i adore your headcanons <3)
Hey there! Thank you, that's very kind of you! Also thank you for sending in a request for a male reader, you're one of the first ones and I was very excited to write about a male reader for once :D
TF141 With A Very Tall Husband
Price: He didn’t really think he’d ever be dating someone much, much taller than him. Sure, he doesn’t particularly mind, but he’s not short either, with him standing at 1,88m himself. It makes him feel small at times, especially if you’re pretty muscular too. He doesn’t get insecure about it in the slightest, oh no, but it’s weird to be so much shorter than your loved ones. However, he’s pretty used to scary people by now. Ghost isn’t exactly a delight to have around at first when you don’t know him either, so he knows how to deal with scary people. Might ask you to tone it down a little bit when you’re scaring other people too much, he doesn’t particularly wanna attract attention like that. But you being a sweetheart towards him? It melts his heart. He knows what you’re like towards people that aren’t him, so it makes him smile that you’re willing to do just about anything for him just to spend some time with him. You wanna trim his beard? There’s a good chance you’ve got some experience with that anyway, so he really doesn’t mind it as much. Hell, he probably trusts you more than his own barber at times. Besides, it’s a nice little bonding activity. If you have a beard then he’ll offer to trim it for you as well. Price isn’t really opposed to being the little spoon, or just being held in general. Quite the opposite, you being this tall sometimes puts him in a cuddly mood where he just plops down into your arms. Gently scratch his scalp and there’s a good chance he’ll even fall asleep on you. He’s so used to being everyone’s protector, it feels nice to be protected for once. But he won’t always settle for being held either, it’s his job to make you feel safe and sound as well, and thus he will take on the role of cuddler as well. Will fight you for that role, actually. Price is a real sweetheart towards his loved ones as well, so I think the two of you would fit well together. His mere presence demands respect in the right people, which can sometimes scare others. So, from time to time, you might both scare other people together. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally.
Gaz: He makes so many jokes about you being this tall and feigns being hurt about being much shorter than you are. You’re his behemoth, his leviathan and his ziz. Loves calling you the names of monsters that are said to be pretty big, it’s endearing to him. Besides, you’re scary enough that some people call you a monster anyway, if just for your height. If anyone ever were to call you that in front of Gaz, then they’ll end up with a black eye. No one gets to call you a monster but him. While he won’t always approve of you scaring everyone, Gaz does have a few friends that he wants you to get along with, he won’t particularly do anything about it either if that’s just what you’re like. Might try to make you seem a bit less scary by being a bit more affectionate with you in public. Holding your hand, giving you a peck on the cheek, giving you a hug. Those kinds of things. He actually loves you being this tall since that means you can pick him up and spin him around. He’s not been picked up ever since he was a little boy, so he definitely wouldn’t mind you showing off to him just how strong you are. Is also always looking for an excuse to hold your hand. Oh, seems like he forgot just how big your hand actually is and how much it engulfs his. Remind him for a moment and hold his hand, will you? Gaz is a sweetheart towards his loved ones anyway, if you look past the fact he will sass anyone to show his affection, so he loves that you’re so sweet towards him. Though, sometimes he wishes you were about the same height so you could actually share each other’s wardrobe. But hey, at least he gets to wear your extremely oversized shirts and hoodies, one of his favorite things to do. Another thing he also adores is just sitting in your lap when you’re home together and will also place your hands so that you’re holding him in your arms. If you’ve got really warm hands then he’ll place them atop his thighs to keep himself warm. Gaz isn’t the warmest person out there, but that just means you get to warm him up yourself. Is actually a lot cuddlier because you’re this tall and will become your personal blanket.
Ghost: He feels kind of perplexed about you being so much taller than him. Ghost is 1,95m, he towers over pretty much anyone, so how dare you be so much taller than him. Pretends to hate you being this tall, actually loves it. Sometimes he dreams of sparring with you under the moonlight to assert his dominance, even though there’s really no need to since you’re such a sweetheart towards him. He probably just needs to ask and would get anything from you. He really doesn’t mind you scaring pretty much everyone off, he has the same effect on people he doesn’t know. That just means there’s less people to worry about in his life for the time being. You’ll be spending a lot of time alone with each other that way, which he really likes. Though, maybe don’t scare his teammates too much, he genuinely likes them and wants them to be well too. Though, it’s kind of hard to properly scare them anyway. Ghost is usually a pretty quiet man when there’s no need for chit chat, but he doesn’t mind hearing your voice. In fact, he might get worried if you suddenly stop talking and will ask you what’s wrong. If you’ve got nothing to talk about then he’ll ask some questions so he can continue hearing your voice. He also blushes from time to time when you suddenly give him some sugary sweet compliments. He’s a grown, scary military man, he really shouldn’t be, but it’s just so endearing, especially when you, even bigger and scarier, call him your little honey bunny. It actually motivates him to do house chores. Not that he won’t do them anyway, but you calling him embarrassingly domestic names makes him just a tad bit soft, which leads to him trying to be a good husband. You may cuddle him since he trusts you, but he will also want to hold you from time to time. Life is a constant give and take, so prepare to be cuddled. Won’t particularly ask for cuddles, though, since he’s kind of too embarrassed to admit he’s touch starved. To you it’s blatantly obvious, though, which is why you initiate those cuddling sessions. Ghost appreciates it and sometimes hides a smile in either the pillow or your neck. As long as you don’t see him being silly, all is good.
Soap: He used to hate you being this tall. Soap may “only” be of average height, but he’s the tallest in his family, which he was actually pretty proud of. He towered over his father, even. And then he joined the military, where quite a few people were taller than him. And then you had the audacity to introduce yourself to him. You, the tallest man he’s ever met. It hurt his ego. Ever since you got together, though, he slowly got over it. You’re just such a sweetheart, how could he hate you over something as trivial as this? However, nothing could ever stop him from trying to pick you up and spinning you around. Soap is a pretty strong lad too, he’ll make it work somehow. You will feel tiny and cared for too. There’s a good chance he can’t reach your lips to kiss you. Yes, he could just ask you to bend down, but where’s the fun in that? Climbs you like a tree instead. He’s also always thinking of that one post where, instead of asking their boyfriend, the person should just punch him in the stomach. He won’t do it, but he remembers it every time without fail. He doesn’t mind you being scary either. Hell, Ghost is also a pretty scary guy to have around when you don’t know him and he’s one of Soap’s closest friends. Besides, he knows better anyway. You’re a total goof and the biggest sweetheart this world has ever seen. You being scary towards others just means that he’s got you all to himself all the time. Soap is a clingy guy, so you can expect him to cling to you like a koala from time to time. Actually, that was a lie, you should expect him to jump at you and hold onto you very often. Cuddles over safety. You’re likely also one of the only people on the planet willing to hear him out when he’s talking about his passions. And he could go on for hours every time. Explosives, weapons, whatever show you’re watching together, all is fair game. See, you’re one of the biggest sweethearts to him because you actually listen to him, despite him going into great detail about it all. You may not always be able to understand him when he’s talking chemistry again, but you hear him out anyway, and for that alone you’ve won his heart. He also sits on your lap while talking. You’re his little throne now that he takes immense pride in.
#cod#cod x reader#john price#john price x reader#price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#I doubt anyone cares but I HC Soap to be 1.78m and Gaz to be 1.81m I just forgot to mention it#m!reader#I know I'm biased but I feel as though I'm actually more willing to write about male readers than fem readers#90% of all things I see in this fandom are with a fem reader there's barely anything for male readers#still thinking back fondly on that one time I got a request for a ftm reader#but that was an eternity ago and I feel as though I'd write that request better now and with more content#I tried to write a lot for this because I was really looking forward to it#besides it was a pretty cute request too. I've actually got a request that's similiar to this one too#it's with Laswell and a reader that's roughly as tall as König#and then I've got something for Nikolai and Price as a couple#I'm gonna write some HCs for that alone and then write some more with added reader as a bonus#I know I never mentioned it anywhere but I do try to be a reader centric blog. but I can write charxchar as well#I just haven't done so since middle school I think#wait no I've written charxchar not too long ago for madcom and tf2. good times#not sure if I'll continue writing today though. I started a new anime and I'm enjoying it a lot so I might watch that instead
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beary-rambles · 2 days
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Undeniable Desire
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c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread
summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.
w.c: 1.8k
a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS
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You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.
You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.
‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.
Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.
You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”
You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.
You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.
“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.
He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.
“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”
You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.
You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.
He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”
Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.
He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”
The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese
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inbarfink · 2 days
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Ace Attorney Lawyers Ranked By Their Abilities in Physical Combat
Winston Payne: I’m pretty sure the average Tumblr user could kill Winston Payne with their bare hands.
Sebastian DeBeste: Look, the only reason why this wimp ranks higher than Payne is because he is so sopping wet pathetic that there is a significant chance that his opponent will just start feeling bad about kicking his ass and punch themself in the face instead.
Klavier Gavin: While Klavier is a physically fit young man who is known to keep his cool in extreme situations, he is also a giant law-abiding nerd who has never thrown a punch at anything that isn’t an inanimate wall. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to shove this guy into a locker.
Miles Edgeworth: Look, Miles is an even bigger locker-worthy nerd than Klavier. Anytime anyone, friend or foe, suggests a violent solution he just gets freaked out and begs for them to follow procedures. And no AA Lawyer is more easily thrown off his rhythm and startled than he is. He might have some bulk under the magenta and frills (or at least some impressive leg muscles from climbing 12 flights of stairs every day for like seven years), but he has no idea or will to actually use them in a fight. However, he did try and stare down a man who was aiming a gun at his back that one time and managed to keep his cool throughout all of this.
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So like, he’d probably talk a big game and try and intimidate his opponent into not engaging - but if that won’t work he will get his ass thoroughly whooped. And then he’d try to sue them, which is what his threats were about all along.
Apollo Justice: Actually a considerable step up in power-levels from the previous ones. Apollo might be smol, but he is Done With Your Shit and this gives him Strength. Not to mention that one time he successfully tanked an explosion. His famous Chords of Steel can also serve as a tactic to confuse or weaken his enemies.
Kristoph Gavin: Although he is primarily known for his schemes and poisoning, he did kill a man with a single blow to the forehead with a bottle, showing he does have some decent upper-body-strength to use in a fight. And being known as ‘the Coolest Defense in the West’ means he can keep his calm even during hectic combat. But he’s also very pretentious and his constant pontifications might just be the perfect opportunity for someone to smash his face in.
Blaise Debeste: Okay, look, is Blaise a scary tall man who successfully stabbed a woman to death with a candelabra and constantly carries around a deceptively-powerful lighter and has like, implied, motorcycle gang background? Yes. But also I think anyone who encounters Blaise Debeste face-to-face is overcome with such bloodlust rage that it might give them an edge in the battle against him.
Mia Fey: Mia ranks fairly high on the Battle Scale considering the one time she was faced with a violent altercation she just tried to escape and it… didn’t end well.
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However, in the two times we get to play as her it’s also clear that she wants to Punch. All of the Things. While Apollo is fueled by being Done With Your Shit, Mia has righteous anger - so I think in a situation where she is actually prepared to do battle she would be able to throw a few decent punches. Also assuming we are talking about Mia while she was still alive, there’s also her Spirit Channeling powers to account for. While we’ve never seen them on screen, Maya told us they are “first rate” and I believe her. Maybe she could channel the spirit of a great warrior to try and get an edge in combat?
Manfred Von Karma: While he also has the same Bloodlust-Inducing-Factor as Blaise, and he does seem less physically fit even though they’re about the same age - I feel like his cane could do more serious damage than Blaise’s lighter. And he has that dangerous fucking Stun Gun on him to easily neutralize opponents. Plus, he did tank that one gunshot he got in the shoulder. Manfred’s opponents might have Rage on their side, but also you cannot underestimate the power of his sheer Spite.
Godot: On one hand, Godot has shown an ability to keep his cool in very dangerous situations. He can smash a coffee cup with his bare hands and barely react, showing that he’s decently strong and resilient to pain. And he is yet another proud (?) member of the exclusive “Lawyers With a Body Count Club”. And while stabbing a waifish, 155cm college student (and part time-poisoner) in the back isn’t exactly the most epic demonstration of battle prowess in the history of Anime Lawyers - he did it (and moved the body and doctored the crime scene and prosecuted in court) while tanking a knife slash in his face, showing his pain-resilience once again, as well as general tenacity that would also be useful in battle. Also, he can summon an infinite amount of hot coffee mugs at will, which must make for a decent improvised long-ranged attack.
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On the other hand, his health is also heavily implied to be deteriorating and that he’s basically dying over the course of the final case… possibly due to all of that physical exhaustion. If a fight goes longer than just a single backstab, I feel like these health complications are gonna harm Godot’s performance.
Phoenix Wright: Okay, so this is actually the hardest one to place. I keep flip-flopping on where to put him, especially compared to Mia, and Apollo. Because unlike most other lawyers currently ranked below him, he is a disaster when it comes to being on the offensive; Phoenix Wright is a total wimp who has never returned a punch in his life. However, he is also almost supernaturally durable, unbelievably lucky and deceptively strong. If a solid iron door, a raging freezing river and a speeding car didn’t manage to take him down, what chance does a fellow human, even a more combat-capable one, have???
Calisto Yew: She’s not even a real-lawyer! She’s a Secret Spy who successfully pretended to be a Lawyer for years! She’s got a gun, she’s got a knife, she's got crossbow bolt as hair decorations, she probably has some combat training from her time in Interpol… While she’s clearly more specialized for espionage and infiltration, and not as physically strong as Lang, she’s still got an impressive advantage over most of the regular people who went to Law School. In fact, her skill with barefaced lies and manipulation might also be a skill she could use in a fight to catch her opponent off-guard.
Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Nahyuta is, in fact, one of the few AA Lawyers to canonically participate in what I would unambiguously call a ‘fight’ (rather than a ‘murder’), when he single-handedly disarmed and apprehended a Defiant Dragon rebel in the sorta-canon ‘Spirit of Justice’ Prologue video.
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Like, that rebel guy probably isn't the world's greatest warrior, but the Defiant Dragons have been around for enough time to give their members at least some basic self-defense/combat skills… more so than the average lawyer on this list at minimum. And Nahyuta very easily crab-stomped him. Showing that he has strong nerves, some amazing reflexes and the martial art skills to knock a man unconscious with a single blow. Not to mention the seemingly supernatural skills with his prayer beads, which he already uses as a sort of ‘weapon’ in court. Also that... thing he did to Apollo's bracelet that one time.
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Nahyuta might be just straight-up Magic, that's pretty OP.
Franziska von Karma: Look, Franziska might not have official martial-arts, guns, or Literal Magic Powers - but what she does have is sheer determination and force or personality. Franziska von Karma has been intimidating grown men since she was a 149 cm tall 13 years old with a riding crop (I mean, one of those men was Miles, but still…..). She had once whipped Phoenix Wright into unconsciousness in a temper tantrum, and like I already mentioned that taking him down is quite a feat. She is also very resilient - while the shot to her shoulders was designed not to kill her, being up back on her feet doing investigation stuff a day after is still very impressive! Her whip might not be as dangerous as a sword or a gun, but she will not relent until she defeats you.
Simon Blackquill: Let me just give it to you straight, Simon Blackquill is 1.88 meter tall, he owns a katana and a trained attack-hawk (giving him both short range and far range advantage), he can break solid metal chains with his bare hands, he can cut your hair halfway across the room with a feather. Not to mention how he could probably use the whole psychological manipulation in battle to intimidate or goad his enemy. There’s not even a lot of funny or interesting points to bring up, he is literally an action movie character who just happens to also be a lawyer.
Athena Cykes: Athena Cykes is the strongest lawyer. One day, she’ll be stronger than whales. I believe in her.
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neondryadtarot · 2 days
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pick a pile ~ tarot cards
take a deep breath and choose pile 1, 2 or 3!
what’s on the way for me in love? 🔮💕
if you chose pile one
five of pentacles / five of cups
i see an ending here, pile one, an ending that i think you have been anticipating but haven’t yet been ready for. now is the time. parting can be so sad, and you must grieve this goodbye as best you can. this person may return as a welcome friend to you in the future. the good news is that i see this ending sowing seeds for a bright new beginning in love for you. new habits, new locations, new friends will set you on the path towards a new person, i’m seeing travel here, so please don’t lose heart. i see you can tend to dwell on the past, but this new person will help you keep your head in the present. i see them as very similar to you, understanding your needs easily. the colour sky blue and sea shells are important here.
if you chose pile two
five of wands / four of wands
pile two, i see an exciting person coming towards you, however you must know that this person comes with obstacles. nothing that you two can’t work out i think, but something that may keep you apart, possibly a work situation or some distance. this person will be very affectionate towards you though and make you feel relaxed and safe. you will know if this person is right for you, even if you both may have to wait. good communication and honesty will see you both through the difficulties. also just keep an eye on this person with money, you may need to be the responsible one in this relationship. bonfires and summer nights are on the cards here. this looks like a fun connection!
if you chose pile three
four of swords / nine of cups
pile three, i see you have been resting in the fields of love for a while now, maybe wondering if anything new will happen, or even if you want it to. well, someone is on their way towards you, if you’d like to welcome them. this person will seem at first to be quite opposite to you, you may feel ambivalent about them at first! maybe a person who is more active and outgoing than you. i think this is a connection through friends. pink flowers are a strong symbol here. i’m seeing that eventually this person will fit right in to your current relaxed way of life. they won’t mind chilling out with you, as long as sometimes you try to meet them on their territory as well. very sweet vibes here!
thanks for reading! ✨💜
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thegainingdesk · 1 day
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I work with my best mate who has obviously picked up somewhat on me packing on about 3 stone in 18 months, and that I'm not exactly upset about the added weight. Our relationship involves lots of teasing and jokes at the other's expense, so obviously the new and improved, fatter Desk has come in for some flack.
I took over a maternity role for someone, and he patted my gut at the pub after I was offered the position and asked if I was the one who was pregnant; someone (quite unexpectedly) revealed that they've got a six-pack, and he quipped that I'd been growing "a single great big ab"; we had a work thing about healthy living and he made sure to explain the concept of "eating less" to me; there's lots of comments about the amount I've eaten, or comparisons to other big guys we work with, or "bulking", and lots of belly pats and pokes.
He mentioned last week that he's bulking (but, you know, normal bulking at the gym, not eating his way into obesity), that he's currently 11 stone, and would like to work his way up to 12 stone as an initial goal. Well, naturally, I worked in that I'm currently a little over 18 stone. He was genuinely shocked. Who can blame him? It's a big number! He sort of looked at me for a bit as if he'd not properly noticed just how big I'd gotten, and then just sort of said "fuck, I guess you are about that yeah." Then he remembered that I'd previously mentioned that I was 17 stone, and he made a bit of a comment about putting on a stone in a year - I didn't correct him by pointing out that it was well under a year ago that I told him I was 17 stone.
Now, a couple of things here. The most significant is that I am 7 stone heavier than my best friend which is, for those of you who prefer to use any kind of normal units, 98 pounds. I am about a hundred pounds heavier than this man. I felt fucking huge.
Then of course, is the acknowledgement of how big I've gotten. I think because we joke so much, having him take a step back and evaluate and conclude yeah, this guy has gotten fucking fat, no joking, no quip or tease, was really fucking hot.
We're both going to a wedding in August and are sharing an AirBnB that happens to have a hot tub. The last time he will have seen me shirtless will have been about two years and three stone ago, so I'm excited to see his reaction. Now I'm thinking though, could I get up to 19 stone by then? More? What will his reaction be, I wonder, if I'm stood there in some XL swim shorts, mentioning I had to buy some new ones because my old ones didn't fit, and just drop in that I've put on yet another stone. It's odd motivation maybe, but it's really pushed me and I've been hitting 4k and 5k calories this past week. Who knows, maybe I'll hit 20 stone by that wedding.
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