#quiet questions with robots

[fishynurse]

What do you think of Zero's smile?

#he gives the photo a little kiss every night before bed #quiet questions with robots

[pucksandpower]

Breaking the Ice

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Lando Norris x Räikkönen!Reader

Summary: a boy who never shuts up meets a girl who rarely wastes the energy to speak … it doesn’t go as expected (or in which not having much to say runs in the Räikkönen family)

Lando shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting nervously as he awaits the arrival of the other drivers for the pre-season press conference. His gaze darts around the stark concrete room, taking in the harsh lighting and the row of empty chairs on the raised platform.

This is his sixth season in Formula 1, but the thrill of the new year and the prospect of racing still sends butterflies fluttering through his stomach. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

The door opens and you stride in, Valtteri Bottas at your side. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to you, the rookie driver already capturing attention despite your quiet presence. You move with the casual confidence of someone who has grown up in this world, unbothered by the lights and cameras.

Lando finds himself staring, captivated by the way you carry yourself. The famously reserved Räikkönen genes clearly run through your veins.

Before Lando can gather his wits to introduce himself, you slide into the chair at the end of the row, Valtteri taking the seat next to you. Lando blinks, realizing he’s been caught gawking.

Smooth, Norris. Real smooth.

He clears his throat and makes his way over, mustering his most charming grin. “Hi there! Lando Norris. Welcome to the circus.”

You turn towards him, your expression unreadable. For a beat, you simply regard him in silence. Then, “Hey.”

You give a small nod of acknowledgment before turning away, effectively shutting down the conversation. Lando’s smile falters as you refocus your attention on … absolutely nothing at all.

Well, that’s a bit rude. He frowns, stung by the brush-off. So much for breaking the ice. Maybe you’re just shy around new people? Lando decides to give you the benefit of the doubt as the other drivers begin filing in.

He takes his seat a few chairs away, sneaking sidelong glances at you. You haven’t so much as glanced in his direction again, adopting the same thousand-yard stare as the Iceman.

Like father, like daughter, Lando muses with a shake of his head.

When the press conference gets underway, question after question is lobbed at the drivers. Lando fields them with his usual charismatic charm, unable to resist hamming it up for the cameras with comedic flair. In contrast, you remain stubbornly curt whenever the mic is passed your way.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I don’t know.”

Your terse responses draw titters of laughter from the audience and press corps alike. Lando watches in amazement, unable to fathom how anyone could be so … so ...

“Boring?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.

You cut your eyes towards him, holding his gaze for the first time since your noncommittal greeting. Lando feels himself flush, suddenly uncertain if he’s been too cheeky. But then the corners of your mouth tug up in an unmistakable smirk before you turn away again, leaving him to wonder if he’s imagined it.

By the time the press conference mercifully ends, Lando has decided you’re definitely an odd duck. But also … kind of fascinating? In an eccentric, robotic sort of way? He’s not sure what to make of his swirling thoughts as you all rise to make your exit.

Lando hangs back, angling to get one more shot at conversation. “Hey, uh, Y/N? I know you’re still getting your feet wet here, but if you ever need any advice or, you know, someone to show you the ropes, I’m always around.”

You pause, glancing back at him over your shoulder. For a fleeting second, Lando thinks he detects … what? Amusement? Disbelief? It’s impossible to tell with your trademark poker face firmly in place.

“Thanks,” you reply, your tone mild. “But I’m good.”

And with that, you pivot on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando to stare after you.

“Huh,” he mutters to himself. So much for breaking the ice.

As the next couple of days of testing wear on, Lando can’t seem to get a read on you. Oh, you’re perfectly courteous whenever your paths happen to cross in the paddock. You’ll return his greetings with a respectful nod or murmur of acknowledgment.

But that’s as far as it goes. You’re polite, but also totally inscrutable. Lando has no idea what you make of him, or really anything at all that might be going on inside that head of yours. All he knows is that his curiosity about you has been thoroughly piqued.

One morning, Lando spies you sitting alone, sipping from a a mug of coffee as you study a stack of data printouts. He ambles over, determined to try chatting you up again.

“Y/N! How’s it going?” His voice is cheerfully upbeat. “That coffee from the hotel? Because let me tell you, it’s rubbish. If you want a proper brew, you’ve got to venture out and find a decent cafe. I know all the best spots around here if you’d like some recommendations ...”

He trails off as you simply look up at him, silent and unblinking. Lando clears his throat, feeling oddly off-kilter beneath your steady regard.

“Anyway,” he blusters on, undeterred. “How are you finding testing so far? Not too overwhelming, I hope? If you ever want to debrief or go over data or anything, I’m happy to lend an ear. Or even an eye, I suppose, since it’s more looking at numbers than listening to-”

“Bwoah.”

The single syllable cuts through Lando’s babbling. You set down your coffee and rise to your feet in one effortless, graceful movement. Lando blinks in surprise as you turn and walk away without another word.

“Oh. Erm. Sure, just … ignore me then,” he mutters, feeling his cheeks flush hotly.

He shakes his head as you disappear around the corner, baffled by your total indifference. But then a wry chuckle escapes his lips as the truth dawns on him with crystal clarity.

You’re not rude or shy at all. That’s just … who you are. Curt, to the point, unconcerned with frivolous chitchat and social niceties. You’ve got laser-focus, and nothing is going to distract you from your pursuit of speed.

In that moment, Lando feels a swell of admiration. He gets it now — you’re carved from the same uncompromising bedrock as your old man. Refreshingly authentic without any affectations or pretense.

Most people would find your blunt aloofness off-putting. But not Lando. No, he finds the prospect of unraveling the mystery that is Y/N Räikkönen irresistibly intriguing.

He grins to himself as he ambles off to get ready for his own session out on track. Just you wait, Y/N. He’s going to get you to crack a smile yet, even if it kills him.

After all, whoever said being a woman of few words was a bad thing?

***

Lando is in the middle of his pre-race routine, trying to center his mind and get into the zone, when you appear out of nowhere and thrust something at him.

“Here,” you say brusquely.

He blinks, puzzled, as he registers the scraggly bundle of wildflowers gripped in your fist. They look like they’ve been unceremoniously ripped out of the dirt, roots, soil and all.

“Uh … what’s this?” Lando asks.

You meet his confused gaze head on, your expression typically unreadable. “Flowers. For you.”

“For me?” Lando repeats dumbly. He glances around, as if expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out at any second. “Are you … giving me these?”

“No, I’m giving them to the other idiot who won’t stop yapping at me every single day,” you deadpan.

Lando feels his cheeks grow warm at the mild rebuke. He knows you’re referring to his persistent, if extremely one-sided attempts at conversation over the past few weeks. All his friendly openings and invitations have been met with a string of indifferent brush-offs and noncommittal hums.

Can’t blame a guy for trying, right? At least he’s being polite, which is more than he can say for-

“Well?” You break into his thoughts, arching one coolly expectant brow. “Are you wooed or not?”

This time it’s Lando’s turn to stare at you blankly. “I’m … sorry, what?”

“Wooed,” you repeat flatly. “You said the girl of your dreams would woo you with flowers or some nonsense. So I got you flowers.” You give the bedraggled bouquet a little shake for emphasis. “Now you’re wooed. Happy?”

It takes a moment for the words to click into place in Lando’s brain. Then a strangled laugh bursts from his lips as he remembers the foolish, offhand comment he made in an interview a few days ago. He’d been prattling on about his imaginary ideal partner, somehow painting the ridiculous picture of himself being “wooed” like some lovestruck Victorian lady.

Leave it to you to take the whole ludicrous scenario at face value. Lando can’t decide if he’s more charmed or bewildered by the fact that you’ve actually gone to the trouble of physically wooing him with … weeds?

“You cannot be serious right now,” he sputters out between residual chuckles.

You simply stand there, utterly unfazed as you hold out the world’s saddest excuse for a bouquet expectantly. “Well? Am I doing it right or not?”

“Doing what right?” Lando shakes his head, chortling again. “This whole wooing business? Y/N, that was just me rambling on like an idiot, as usual. You didn’t actually have to-”

“But I did,” you interject, effectively cutting off his protests. “So. Are. You. Wooed?”

Lando opens his mouth, then closes it again as he searches for the right response. There’s no menace or mockery in your expression, just that same intense focus and matter-of-fact bluntness that you apply to everything. Somehow, he gets the distinct impression that you won’t be deterred until he gives you a straight answer.

“Uh … no?” He ventures at last. “N-Not really, I guess?”

You stand there for a beat, Processing his words. Then you give a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Okay. That’s a you problem.”

With that, you turn smartly on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando gaping after you in a stupor. He stares down at the shoddy little bundle of greenery still clutched in his hand, not sure whether to laugh or just shake his head in amazed disbelief.

“A ‘me’ problem?” he mutters, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Well, you’ve got me there, Y/N.”

Because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that you respecting him enough to even entertain his absurd hypothetical … that might just be his new favorite problem.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Lando brings his car across the finish line in fourth place. Not his best result, but respectable points in the bag. He allows himself a tight smile as he peels into the pit lane and kills the engine.

Until the unmistakable bright green and black livery of your Kick Sauber fills his vision, that is.

Lando does a double take, his jaw dropping as the implication sinks in. No way. There’s absolutely no way you’ve … you’ve won this race, right? In that underpowered, aerodynamically-challenged shitbox?

He can scarcely believe his eyes as you glide to a stop behind the large “1” board. The cheers and applause swelling around the track leave no doubt — somehow, against all odds, you’ve just taken the top step of the podium.

Lando scrambles out of his own car, tugging off his helmet and balaclava as he hustles across parc fermé in a daze. The first thing he notices is the sheer confusion and shock etched onto the faces of everyone else milling around. Even the marshals look gobsmacked by this upset for the ages.

In the middle of the chaos, you’re casually unfurling yourself from the cockpit with your trademark nonchalance. Like this is just another ho-hum Sunday drive for Y/N Räikkönen instead of, you know, the most spectacular overachievement in recent Formula 1 history.

Lando stands there gaping at you, unable to fully process what’s just happened. He vaguely registers the rest of the top finishers pulling in around you, their body language radiating bewilderment and disbelief as they all turn to stare, dumbstruck.

No one can quite seem to believe that an underdog backmarker has just eclipsed them all in a car that typically struggles to score points, let alone wins.

For your part, you’re projecting indifference to the chaos swirling around you. You simply grab a water bottle and take a long, unhurried pull, seemingly oblivious to the escalating frenzy.

Then, you casually turn in Lando’s direction and arch one brow ever-so-slightly. A silent question.

“I … you ...” Lando sputters uselessly, his brain still stuttering to catch up. “Did you seriously just ...”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards, hinting at a suppressed grin. “Well?” You prompt him calmly. “Are you wooed yet or what?”

It takes a moment for the light to flicker on in Lando’s mind. Any other time, he’d be delighted by the playful ribbing, eager to keep the back-and-forth banter flowing.

But right now, something else cuts through the haze of astonishment clouding his thoughts.

“Wait … is this ...” Lando squints at you searchingly. “Did you just win this race … for me?”

The words slip out before he can stop them. Because that would be such an impossibly, endearingly you thing to do, wouldn’t it? To dedicate achieving the unachievable all because of an offhand remark about wanting to be wooed?

His heart does a strange little flip-flop at the mere idea of you going to such outlandishly romantic lengths, all for the sake of who-even-knows-what is brewing between you two these days.

For a long beat, you simply stare back at him, your expression unreadable as ever. Then, “What?” You let out a faintly derisive snort. “No, of course not. Why would I do that?”

The words detonate like a slap in the face, momentarily winding Lando with their blunt force. “Oh. Well, I just thought maybe since I mentioned the whole wooing thing, and then you ...”

You shake your head impatiently, cutting him off. “You’re not the one who won this race, Lando.”

With that, you turn on your heel and stride away, dismissing him with a curt finality. Lando is left speechless, mouth agape as he watches your retreating back.

Around him, the rest of the drivers and crew are still buzzing with perplexed whispers and incredulous looks. No one can seem to wrap their minds around what they’ve just witnessed.

A sudden boom of laughter from Stake F1 Team Kick Sauber garage shatters the tension. Lando glances over to see your grizzled race engineer doubled over, tears of mirth streaming down his face as he wheezes helplessly.

“That’s my girl!” He chortles, shaking his head in amazed delight. “Leave it to a Räikkönen to blow the entire fuckin’ field away and just shrug it off like it’s no big deal!”

Lando feels the corner of his own mouth twitch upwards, the pinpricks of embarrassment fading as quickly as they flared. Of course he wasn’t on your mind out there today — you’re a laser-focused competitor brimming with the same single-minded intensity as your father. No thoughts, just pure, unbridled velocity.

You don’t crave grandstanding or glory, you’re simply out there doing what you were born to do, with ruthless, unsentimental precision. No fuss, no frills. Just inevitable, undeniable greatness through sheer force of will.

For now, that’s more than enough to leave him feeling utterly, deliriously, irrevocably … wooed.

***

Lando flops back on the hotel bed with a contented sigh, still basking in the post-race glow. P3 on the podium is a stellar result, made even sweeter by the fact that you claimed second place.

He grins lazily as you emerge from the en-suite bathroom, having shed your team wear in favor of a comfy t-shirt and shorts. Even with your hair tied up in a messy bun and your face scrubbed free of makeup, you’re still the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on.

“There’s the champion,” he rumbles affectionately, reaching out to snag your wrist and tug you down onto the bed beside him. You allow yourself to be pulled into the circle of his arms with a quiet huff of amusement.

“I didn’t win, you dork,” you point out mildly, making no move to extract yourself from his embrace. “That was Max on the first step today, not me.”

“Mmm, true.” Lando hums his agreement, nuzzling against the crown of your head. “But you’ll get there again soon enough. Then we can really celebrate.”

He punctuates the promise with a languid kiss, smiling against your lips as you melt into him with a soft sigh of contentment. These tender, unguarded moments are rapidly becoming his favorite part of any race weekend.

You allow the liplock to linger for a few long, blissful seconds before finally pulling back with a faint smirk. “Speaking of celebrating ...”

Then, without any hesitation whatsoever, you deftly roll off the mattress and sink down onto your knees in one fluid motion, effectively pitching Lando’s heart rate into a gallop.

“Whoa, hey now,” he sputters out a nervous chuckle, propping himself up on his elbows to gawk down at you in surprise. “What are you doing down there, trouble?”

Rather than answering directly, you simply arch one eloquent brow and ask, “Are you wooed yet?”

Lando blinks, needing a second to parse your meaning. Then a bark of laughter escapes before he can stop it, finally realizing where this is going. “Oh my god, you cannot be serious right now. Are we really still doing that stupid bit?”

There’s no missing the impish glint in your eye as you regard him from your knees, clearly quite pleased with yourself for managing to get the upper hand. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer here.”

Lando shakes his head in amazed disbelief, unable to smother his grin. “Y/N, love, you have got to be the most impossible woman on the planet sometimes.” He reaches down to brush an errant lock of hair out of your eyes, cradling your face tenderly. “But lucky for you, it’s impossibly charming as hell.”

You lean into the caress ever so slightly, regarding him with an impish glint. “So? Do you feel wooed yet or not?”

Something warm and gooey blossoms in Lando’s chest as he studies your features — the amused quirk of your lips, the slight flush on your cheeks, the fire dancing in your eyes. You’re such an endearing contradiction, managing to be the most formidably stoic badass on the racetrack while also being irresistibly playful when it’s just the two of you.

“Y/N ...” he starts, a bemused chuckle rumbling from his lips. He presses a kiss to your forehead, relishing your quiet hum of approval. “You do realize you don’t have to keep trying to woo me anymore, right?”

You blink up at him, your brow furrowing slightly as you process his words. “What are you talking about?”

Lando nods towards the pillow behind him, gesturing vaguely. “The flowers. The race win. All the coy banter and teasing.” He grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed at this point, love.”

You continue to stare at him with a blank look, like he’s suddenly started speaking in tongues. The lack of comprehension on your face is so unguarded and genuine that it makes Lando’s grin slowly slip.

Hold on … could it be that you actually don’t realize-

“Hey,” he asks slowly, hardly daring to breathe. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but … I thought after the whole flower thing, we kind of … you know ...”

He trails off helplessly, not sure how to broach the subject in case he’s somehow misread everything completely. Your brow remains furrowed, making him abruptly hyper aware of the fact that your lithe form is literally kneeling at his feet while wearing very little clothing.

A pregnant pause stretches between you, thick with confused tension. Then-

“Oh my god,” you blurt out, your eyes going comically wide as the pieces finally click into place. “Did you think we were … dating? All this time?”

Lando chokes on his own tongue, too stunned to respond right away. He simply gapes at you, feeling like the world’s biggest moron for somehow operating under the wrong assumption for … how long, exactly?

Now that he’s thinking back, neither of you ever explicitly defined what was brewing between you two ... you just sort of started spending more and more time together, growing more and more intimately intertwined until … well ...

Suddenly he’s laughing, helpless peals of mirth bubbling up from his core as the truth dawns on him. All this time, you two have essentially been a couple of awkward teenagers muddling through the beginning stages of a relationship, the wires of communication getting hopelessly crossed along the way.

But oh man, of course it somehow ended up going down like this between you two. Why would he have expected anything less idiotically convoluted?

You’re chuckling too, the laughter rippling through your body in delightfully unreserved waves as you sway back on your heels. And just like that, the last lingering hint of tension dissolves from the air as you surrender to the hilarity of it all.

“So … I’m just gonna go ahead and take that as a no then,” Lando finally manages to gasp out between wheezing chuckles.

“Well that would depend,” you shoot back, your eyes bright with mischief. You shift forward onto your knees, leaning in close enough for him to feel the teasing rasp of your breath against his lips. “Because according to you, I’m already spoken for.”

Lando’s laughter cuts off with a soft groan as your nose brushes teasingly against his thigh, his palms finding their way to your hips as if by muscle memory. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” He accuses without any real heat.

“Nope,” you agree matter-of-factly before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

He loses himself in the velvet glide of your mouths for endless minutes, his fingertips tracing maddening patterns across the sliver of exposed skin at your waist. When you finally break apart, you’re both panting softly, gazes locked in a heated stalemate.

“So ...” Lando murmurs at last, his lips brushing deliciously against yours with every word. “If we haven’t actually been dating this whole time, then what would you call … this?” He sweeps one hand up in a languid caress, hinting at the incredible tangle you’ve both willingly stumbled into.

“Hmm ...” You press another series of featherlight kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, leaving him shivering. “How about … badly in need of remedial communication skills?”

Lando bursts out laughing again — because really, is there any more succinct way to sum up the two of you? He tugs you up onto his lap, cupping the back of your head and crushing your lips back to his in a heated clash of teeth and tongues.

You willingly arch against him with a throaty sigh, hands roaming possessively across his chest. The two of you are a whirlwind of tangled limbs and shared laughter and scorching friction.

It’s all so achingly, impossibly right that Lando can hardly stand it. But as you meet his heated gaze, chests heaving and eyes sparking with unspoken promises, Lando finds he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when the payoff is stealing heated moments like these, all tangled up in each other with boundless laughter and blazing passion.

“Y/N ...” he murmurs reverently, tracing the curve of your smiling lips with the pad of his thumb. “I adore you. You incredible, impossible woman.”

You lean into the caress with a soft hum, covering his hand with yours to hold him there. “So what now?” You arch a playful brow. “Are you officially wooed or do you need some more convincing?”

With a low growl, he abruptly flips you both over onto the mattress in one fluid movement. You let out a startled squeak quickly swallowed by his questing mouth as he settles between your parted thighs, pinning you to the sheets.

You arch up to meet him in a slick glide of fevered skin, clutching him close. Through it all, your soft laughter never ceases — bubbling up in breathless peals of delight that Lando hungrily drinks in.

Yeah, he’s pretty damn wooed all right. But from this moment forward, he’s going to spend every second making damn sure you never have to ask again.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[sserpente]

After

Synopsis: You help Astarion wash off the blood after he kills Cazador. He doesn’t say much—but you can tell he needs you now more than ever.

A/N: I thought of this the other day and I almost cried. So I wrote it so that you can almost cry as well.

Words: 897

Warnings: trauma responses, fluff

Astarion was being unusually quiet, his movements robotic and too automatic as if he was somewhere else entirely in his mind. And he was. You couldn’t blame him. He had his own demons to deal with after what you had just witnessed.

His hand was still clutching the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. But not even the blood stains on his bare skin could manage to disfigure him. He was as beautiful as ever despite the streams of tears drying on his cheeks.

You’d wrapped your cloak around him after he announced he wanted to get out of there, eager to respect his wish. There was nothing left for him here. It was over. Now all he had to do was to heal, slowly, from the trauma the past two hundred years had caused him.

Both Shadowheart and Gale had offered to help calm him down with magic but Astarion had been quick to decline. It was dark outside by the time you left the palace—a welcome circumstance. Though it was not uncommon for citizens to roam the city drenched in blood every now and then, you were certain Astarion was grateful for the absence of curious and suspicious looks as you made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern.

It wasn’t just Cazador’s death of course. He’d turned it all down. The ability to walk in the sun, the powers Ascension would have granted him… Now he’d return to the shadows. But he wouldn’t do it alone, that you were going to make sure of. He had you.

He was still silent by the time you returned to your room upstairs. Whoever had decided to stay behind today—Lae’zel, Wyll, Jaheira, Halsin and Minsc—their eyes all went wide the moment they laid their eyes on the blood-drenched vampire spawn.

The questions were burning on their tongues, you could tell. But they held back. You cleared your throat.

“Would you guys mind… leaving us for a bit? Join the others downstairs for a drink maybe?”

“Understood,” Jaheira said. She waved her hand and nodded, compassion glistening in her wise eyes. “Take your time.”

“Astarion…” Minsc pushed Jaheira out of the way, earning him a groan. “Is… is Cazador dead?”

“Yes, he’s dead, Minsc,” you answered for him. Jaheira grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her before he could say something else. Wyll, Lae’zel and Halsin followed suit.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the latter announced. A few heartbeats later, you were alone.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Your voice was barely a whisper but Astarion heard you nonetheless. He nodded and finally allowed you to peel the dagger from his grasp. You set it aside on a table and lead him to the washtub in the corner of the room.

The cloak slipped from his shoulders, sailing to the wooden floor. He made no move to pick it up, no move to help you as you filled the tub with warm water. In fact, you weren’t sure he even saw you do it. But when you moved away to get him a fresh towel for later, you heard him.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly. Your eyes darted back to him, taking in the vulnerability and helplessness surrounding him like cold mist.

“I won’t. Ever. I was just gonna get you a towel.”

“Don’t leave,” he repeated.

The chest with your things was just around the corner, still, you opted against it. You forced the corners of your lips up and nodded, returning back to his side.

He didn’t protest when you removed his bloodied trousers and had him step out of them, didn’t resist when you made him climb into the tub and eventually, undressed yourself and reached for a sponge and soap before joining him.

Silence filled the room, water dripping as you dunked the sponge in. His sigh the moment it touched his cool skin was heartbreaking.

Inch by inch, you washed off the blood, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest and his face every now and then. Once you were done and the very last traces of Cazador had vanished, you cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Astarion nodded. “I just need…time.” To process. To decompress, to let everything that happened today sink in.

You nodded. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Astarion. I am so proud of you. What you did today…that was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. You didn’t have to do it and it wouldn’t have made you any less brave if you hadn’t faced him. But you did. I love you. And I will do anything in my power to help you through this, whatever you might need.”

The vampire smiled—it was a weak smile, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But it was sincere nonetheless.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You remained in the bath until the water was cold. After tiptoeing over to the clothing chest naked to finally retrieve the towels to dry off, you cuddled up in bed together, your limbs entangled and his face pressed against your neck. His breath evened surprisingly fast as he slipped into trance and you too closed your eyes, holding on to him tightly until you were certain he had found peace for tonight.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion imagine #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion ancunin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 imagine #neil newbon

[lunarmoves]

"can i have a kiss?"

you abruptly choke on the sip of water you'd been taking, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you cough roughly and loudly into your palm. it's enough to make your throat ache, and you barely register a large hand patting you on your back as you do your best to clear your windpipe.

"pardon?" you eventually force out, voice scratchy as you look up at sun through watering eyes. "what did you say?"

sun's head tilts to the side slightly. it's difficult to parse out what he's thinking with those blank eyes of his. "can i have a kiss?" he repeats for you in the same tone and inflection—light and casual like he's simply asking about the weather.

you blink owlishly at him, then glance around the empty daycare. maybe as an excuse to not look at him. everything was cleaned swiftly today, leaving you with some free time before you had to clock out. you just hadn't expected it to be spent like this, however. you clear your throat and look back at sun. his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, barely noticeable had he not been standing stock still.

"...what's brought this on?" you ask after a short moment of silence. you're stalling, you know, but you're genuinely curious.

his head tilts the other way, a quiet click coming from his face plate. and then—like he hadn't just been standing before you, still as a statue—he jolts back into an amiable sway.

"oh, you know!" he gushes out, clasping his hands together and making the bells attached to his ribbons jingle with the motion. "we just see the way parents kiss their children at the door! and, well, those kids love to play house a lot too, you see. it's difficult not to notice it when it happens all the time! we are simply..." he trails off, as though searching for the right word. "...intrigued."

"right..." you're not quite buying what he's trying to say. hell, your ears are likely still tinged red from the initial embarrassment of his question. "you give kisses to the kids all the time, though," you point out. they aren't kisses so much as they are little taps of his static smile to their boo-boos or foreheads when they ask. you only know they're intended as kisses because sun lets out an exaggerated mwah every time.

sun only looks at you, something tense along the line of his thin shoulders. you wait, in the silence of the too large daycare, as he seems to ruminate upon something. and when he speaks, it makes something curl tightly in the deepest pit of your stomach.

"that's different," he replies quietly. a pin drops in the far distance.

your tongue suddenly feels too thick for your mouth and you swallow before you reply. "how so?" you find yourself asking. you... you don't quite understand. or maybe you don't want to. maybe you're looking for an answer you're not quite prepared to hear yet. maybe you are ready and you just don't realize it yet.

"they're not you." it's said simply—like saying the sky is blue or grass is green. your lips purse together. you refuse to admit how that makes you feel—how it makes something hot flood throughout your body.

"...there are cameras," you say weakly, trying to fight down the flush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks. was this really happening? was he really asking you this? it's just a kiss, you scold yourself. you're overreacting. he's a robot—it's not like it means anything to him. right? "i'm on shift. i could get fired." it doesn't matter if it's a friendly little peck—anything seen like that with a robot on cameras after the daycare has closed will be detrimental to your career.

"don't you worry your silly little head about that!" sun waves a hand in dismissal, his eyes upturned slightly into white crescents. there's a curve to his smile that you're only minutely wary of. "we've taken care of it!" ...whatever that means. you eye one of the cameras positioned near the ceiling of the daycare, the small red light on it frozen. you... aren't going to question that. you internally sigh.

sun's always curious—always pushing boundaries. always seeing how far he can go with you before you take a step back.

it seems like you'd taken too long to respond. sun closes the small distance between the two of you with a single, long stride, standing before you in a way that makes you crane your head up. your personal space is wiped out in an instant. he bends down until his face is mere inches above yours. and then he waits.

"don't be shy!" he tells you brightly, fingers flexing by his sides. one of his rays twitches atomically. "put 'er right here!" his face plate spins slightly as an indicator.

he's really not leaving you much room for choice here. you huff at his persistence, giving him a small roll of your eyes. and with a deep breath to help ground yourself—keep your head clear and look at this all from an objective standpoint (robot, he's a robot, he's curious, it doesn't mean anything)—you eventually raise yourself up on your tippy toes.

a kiss—as small and feathery as a wisp of wind on a cool, fall day—is pressed delicately to the plating of his forehead. the metal is cool under your touch, a contrast against the warmth of your skin. you don't let yourself linger, dropping back down onto your heels as you clear your throat and force yourself to look at him. he's still watching you—with that too large smile and too squinted eyes.

"there you go," you force out as casually as you can. there's something swarming in your gut and you're not sure if it's a good thing or not. "happy?"

sun's rays spin around once, but he doesn't move away. his smile stretches wider—thinner like a blade. and when he speaks, there's a faint depth to his voice that makes you think of the way moon speaks.

"you missed." he bends down closer to you, the shadows of his lithe form casting themselves across your face. he lifts a hand to tap once against the metal of his smile and the sound seems to echo through the daycare. you stare up at him with wide eyes, a cool prickle making its way down your spine. sun's face plate makes another sharp click. "do it again."

you mouth opens, then closes, until you finally muster up the will to let out a little laugh—albeit a slightly shaky one.

"c'mon, dude, i gave you a kiss." you let out another chuckle and find yourself leaning back just a tad. "i should head out now anyways, it's getting lat—"

before you can even finish your sentence, sun's hands dart out to grip you tightly on your upper arms. trapping you within his hold as he draws you closer. you're forced to look up at him, all tense lines and twitching metallic parts.

"you misunderstand, friend." sun grins wider, the gleam of his teeth sharp in the daycare's lighting. you take the smallest step back. "i wasn't asking."

moon

#u best BELIEVE moon's in there fuming sun got a kiss before he did LMFAOOO #...to be continued ?? #dca x reader #dca x y/n #dca x self insert #fnaf dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendant x y/n #daycare attendant x self insert #sun x you #sun x reader #sun x y/n #sun x self insert #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #sundrop x reader #sundrop x y/n #bit of #moon x reader #if u squint #shay scribbles daydreams

[mingtinysworld]

Shards of Lust

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1k

Summary: you see your boyfriend sporting a new finger accessory and he notices you staring. He wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if he didn’t show you what he could do with it right?

Warnings: MDNI, fingering, sharp object included don’t actually do this irl

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: OK SO RIDKSJSKSK THE FINGER THINGS LIKE HELLO it’s actually been driving me crazy. I want to be fingered by him so bad like you don’t understand. Also sorry this was the shortest I’ve ever written💀 but hope you still enjoyed. Please like, comment and reblog ilyyyy. - J:)

You wake up groggily, slowly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. As you sit up in bed you can see Yunho getting ready in the hotel mirror. He’s almost ready for the Coachella stage, just finalizing accessories and details. He looks very handsome in his black suit, looking like he’s ready for a business meeting.

You let out a sleepy sound and catch Yunho's attention through the mirror. He gives you a soft smile and you attempt to give him a smile back, even though your eyes are almost glued shut. You crawl to the edge of the bed and sprawl out, looking at him upside down.

"Good morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"I guess. The time change is still messing with me though." You say with a pout.

"Aww baby, I know. It's alright, next week we'll be home and you can sleep in peace." He assures.

You nod along as your eyes graze over every inch of him. You observe the strange ring like accessories that he's putting on. He slides them on with ease and then flexes his hand in and out. You feel hypnotized and feel your eyes boring into the mirror. You unfold yourself from your pretzel form and go to stand behind Yunho.

You fit your chin against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his waist, breathing him in. He tilts his face downward and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Hi baby." He says gently. When you don't say anything and just freeze, he's concerned for a split second. He follows your line of sight and sees your transfixed stare on his hand. You're looking at the contraption that sits prettily on his index and middle finger with curiosity. It makes his hand look robotic almost, and the sharp tips glow menacingly, weirdly inviting in a way.

He watches you take it in, totally enjoying your reaction. He's pretty sure he can read your filthy thoughts at this point, from the way your breathing has stopped completely.

"You really love these, huh?" He asks with a knowing smirk. He wiggles his fingers, and you're broken out of your trance. You redden as you try to act normal, clearing your throat and making eye contact with Yunho.

"I-i mean I just think they're really cool! I've never seen anything like it." You trail off uncertainly.

He turns around to face you and grabs your elbows to guide you to the edge of the bed once more. He sits you down gently and crouches in front of you, looking up with sultry eyes.

"Do you want a demonstration?" He questions. You give him a quizzical look, mind completely blanking.

"W-what? A demonstration of what?" You ask with a nervous gulp.

He flexes his hand and looks down at it. "How this works. How it feels." He leans closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

"Please." You plead with a hushed murmur. You’re not exactly sure what you’re pleading for. His lips are finally on yours and he kisses you with a quiet intensity, stroking your exposed thighs. You hum into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his touch on your skin. He drags his hands up higher to the waistband of your shorts and tugs lightly. You get his message and lift your hips high enough for him to slip off the material. He takes your underwear with it, leaving your bottom half exposed. You wiggle a bit impatiently and he stills your moving hips with a firm hand.

"Now be good for me alright? I don't have much time so let's make the best of it." He reminds you of the fact that he has to leave for rehearsals soon. You stay still and anticipate what's to come. He spreads your plush thighs apart, strings of arousal stretching in between. He chuckles quietly to himself and moves even closer. He lays his whole palm against your cunt and you shudder from the feel of the cold metal against your most intimate part.

He moves up and down slightly, making you release shallow breaths. Still keeping eye contact with you, he slowly enters one armored finger. He goes slow as to not hurt you with the sharp tip, although you wish he would just destroy you. He gauges your reaction and is pleased when he sees you trying so hard to not squirm. He speeds up the force of his finger and you gasp and hold on to his shoulder.

"Another one please." You choke out.

Yunho looks at you concerned for a second, but immediately complies as he sees the state you're in. Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears and your mouth is making the most sinful sounds. He can feel his pants tightening with every whimper you let out, but his focus is totally on you for today.

He adds a second finger and you can feel the noticeable stretch instantly. His unforgiving pace makes you see stars and you clench around him, making him groan with gritted teeth. You squeeze his shoulder again, needing something to ground you. The cold metal drags against your walls and sharpens the tight feeling in your core. Once he hits your spongy spot you're done for. Your orgasm washes over you and you gasp from the intensity of it.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and sees that the metal is completely covered in your juices. Before you can stop him he puts the fingers in his mouth and makes a show of licking every inch clean. You groan in humiliation and throw yourself back to lay flat. He chuckles at you and grabs tissues to help clean you up. You stare at the ceiling and process everything. You loved the experience so much, wanting to do it all over again.

Once you're clean and clothed Yunho gets ready to leave, he kisses you goodbye and heads to the door. He gives you a silly finger wave and you wave right back, but before he can shut the door behind him, you hold it open and lean towards him and whisper.

"I think we might have to make that lil gadget into a regular occurrence."

#ateez #ateez smut #mingtinysworld #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #yunho fic #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho #newworldnet

[reiding-writing]

Okokokok

Cold!reader just looking in to spencers eyes just inches away from his face and saying "i feel things when im with you" after morgan called her ruler of all that is evil and stoic

MAJORITY VOTE [ONESHOT]

/məˈdʒɒrəti vəʊt/

morgan is convinced that you’re incapable of expressing human emotion, so you bring spencer in as backup to consolidate you.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, jokes about lack of emotional vulnerability

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 1.0k || series masterlist!!

a/n: on my productivity game rn 🫡 made this a little less on the nose but still the same vibes yk?

main masterlist!!

“Well well, if it isn’t my favourite robot, get tired of the icy planes of your snow kingdom and decide to come into work early today?” Morgan laughs at his own humour as you walk around the bullpen towards your desk, swivelling his chair in your direction.

“The coffee shop I go to was closed.” You dump your messenger bag on your desk with a loud ‘thud’. Clearly missing your morning coffee had put a damper on your already unenthusiastic mood.

“So we can be expecting even less humanity from you today, got it,” He shoots you a thumbs up with a laugh as he watches you slump down in your chair with a huff, audibly finding entertainment in your misery.

“I am perfectly human thank you very much,” You shoot him a glare across the diagonal of your desks as you unpack your bag for the day and dump it on the floor by your feet.

“No offence, but I’ve seen more emotional vulnerability in a rock,” You groan internally at his response, dragging the palm of your hand down your face. It was too early to be having this debate.

Any time was too early to be having this debate. Why did people constantly feel like they had to bring up the fact that you weren’t open with yourself? If you didn’t know Morgan was being completely unserious you’re sure you would have smacked him by now.

“I am very in tune with my emotions, you can ask Reid.”

Morgan laughs at your comment like you’d just told him the moon was made of cheese. “Please, Reid would take your side even if it was you calling doctor who the worst tv show to ever air, his opinion is completely biased,”

“That is not true, Reid is very logical in his opinions,”

“Thank… You?” You turn your head at the new voice in the conversation, Spencer glancing between the two of you with a confused expression etched onto his face as he wrings the strap of his messenger bag between his hands.

“Reid. Perfect timing.” You get up from your seat with a start, ignoring the pale pink shade covering his cheeks at your compliment. He chooses to take it as a compliment anyway.

You stop a few feet in front of him with your arms crossed tight across your chest and a determined expression on your face. “I have emotions don’t I?”

“I- What?” He blinks at you blankly in response, your question coming completely out of left field and not helped by the fact you’d essentially bombarded him the second he walked into the office and was now invading in his personal space.

“That’s a leading question,” Morgan drawls out his words with a shake of his head. “Leading questions lead to inaccurate results Ice Queen, you’re a Psychologist you know this,”

“Be quiet.” You turn to hush Morgan with a sharp movement of your hands before turning back to Spencer again, the confusion on his face only growing the longer the interaction goes on. “You’ve seen me display multiple different emotions haven’t you?”

“I- …Yes?” Spencer doesn’t look any less confused as he answers your question, but you take it as a win anyway as you gesture outwards to Spencer with a triumphant glimmer in your eyes.

“There. Proof.”

“I already said Reid is an unreliable source,” Morgan rolls his eyes with an amused expression at much you’re going out of your way to prove him wrong.

“Two sources.” you wave your finger between yourself and Spencer. “That’s majority vote,”

“Biased majority vote,”

“Maybe you just need to accept the fact that you’re not as good of a profiler as you think you are,” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.

“Hey woah now-”

Spencer continues to look between the two of you with absolutely zero idea of the context of the conversation, leaning slightly forward to speak over your shoulder to you. “….whats going on?”

“Nothing Reid, you’re fine,” You step to the side and encourage him forward with a hand on his arm, which he follows with no question despite still being entirely confounded at the situation, letting his bag fall to the floor as he takes a seat next to Morgan at his own desk.

“I’m still calling bias, that’s clear favouritism,” Morgan continues to stand his ground as you retake your own seat opposite Spencer, waving his finger at the two of you like a scolding parent.

“What’s favouritism?” Spencer tries to get insight on the conversation, but Morgan keeps his attention focused on shooting at you and not divulging why.

“It’s not favouritism, it’s fact.”

Morgan shakes his head with a huff, reclining back in his chair and crossing his arms. “It’s favouritism…” He was starting to loose his will to debate with you now, something you were definitely grateful about considering you’d now been arguing about your emotional state for over ten minutes.

“Sure sure whatever,” You wave Morgan off with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to Spencer and giving him a short nod. “Thanks,”

He mirrored your nod with one of his own, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pressed into an awkward smile. “You’re welcome?”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

[celestialprincesse]

if this is something you’re interested in, I’d love to see Simon accidentally losing his temper and making it up to you <333 he’s just a big guy and doesn’t really realise how intimidating he can appear! he’s the sweetest though :(

Taking some artistic liberties with this because I refuse to give men the right to yell as the president/princess of this here blog!!

All day you've felt the distance between you and Simon. A gaping, empty hole in your normally cozy, quiet home. Of course, you'll give him the patience he always affords you, you'll give him time and space if that's what he wants. But you can't exactly work out what he needs when he'll barely speak to you.

His silence doesn't soothe the anxiety in your gut telling you that you're the source of the problem.

Eventually, you find yourself breaking, sitting on the couch responding to an email, going through the motions with robotic thoughtlessness. You're so strung out by your own anxiety, yiu find yourself crying, little pathetic sniffles as you try to convince yourself to grow up and push your feelings aside.

"Bird?" Snaps you from your self pity. Sends your hands flying up to wipe at your eyes. Fruitless, seeing as he's already noticed your tears, a concerned look furrowing his brows. Before you can protest, tell him you're fine, he's kneeling before you on the rug, still at your eye level, despite the fact you're sat on the couch.

All coldness is gone as he takes in your ruddy cheeks and watering eyes, pulling you into his chest the minute he realises why you're crying, why you're hiding from him.

"Are you mad at me?" You hiccup, wiping your runny nose absently on the back of your sleeve as you wait for an answer, only to see Simon look so utterly broken at your question.

"Wha-Why would I be angry at you, hm?" He soothes, thumbs brushing gently across your tear streaked cheeks. "Haven't done anything wrong." Simon murmurs into the hair at the crown of your head, a large hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

You feel like an idiot, so worked up by your own thoughts, your imagination. "Barely talked to me all day."

"Oh baby." You're soothed with such gentleness you can't help but to cry more, sniffling fat tears into the fabric of Simon's shirt.

Jostling slightly, Simon keeps you pressed into his chest as he joins you up on the couch, his free hand cradling the nape of your neck, keeping you close.

"M'sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you, yeah?"

#cod mw2 #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x f!reader #Simon ghost Riley x yn #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #Simon Riley x yn #Simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #cod #ghost #angies asks!

[morgana-ren]

I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference. 

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction. 

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does. 

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne. 

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name. 

His real name. 

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet— 

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance. 

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.” 

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity” 

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.” 

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom. 

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe. 

He lashes out at her. 

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all. 

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness. 

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–” 

Because that is what he’d taught her. 

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished. 

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?” 

Her head cocks. She does not understand. 

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question. 

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something. 

From him.  

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest. 

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest. 

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her. 

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you." 

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night." 

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair." 

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent. 

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued. 

He can’t. 

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death. 

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow. 

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded. 

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight. 

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct. 

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?" 

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love. 

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, my Lord?” 

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her? 

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall. 

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes. 

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed. 

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic. 

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that. 

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely. 

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time. 

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right) #tim drake loves acting #help how did this get so long

[bkglovergirl]

♡𓂃Room 381

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲 ࣪The school tells the students the exciting news! now you gotta deal with the fact you have a new 'husband' who could care less about this whole situation.

Word count; 1.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The bell rings. There is tension in the air. Not because of a villain attack, no, there hasn't been one in days, but because all teachers have ordered all students back to the classrooms for an important discussion. No one knows what this is about and in this school, this could be anything. You pick up your bag and look around for any familiar faces hoping you can have a conversation about the situation, the lunch room is almost bare but you catch a familiar redhead and run up to him. “Hey Todoroki!” you smile at him giving him a small wave. He stops his movements and looks at you.

“Hi,” he says. It sounds very bland, you think, but what can you expect? Maybe he’s nervous as well.

“Can I walk with you to class? I’m nervous about this big discussion thing.” Todoroki starts walking but looks at you to continue the conversation so you take that as a yes and follow.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” you give him a face.

“What’s there? Are you for real asking me that right now?!” You turn to walk backward and face him. “I don’t know, let’s think. A Hero retires, A Hero has died, they are shutting down UA, a student has gone missing, the teachers are robots, and they want to recruit us!” It seems Todorokis's blank face has gotten even blanker.

“All those were completely reasonable until the last one. Do you always automatically think of the worst-case scenarios?”

“Well kinda but it’s not my fault.” you cross your arms, “you gotta think of the worse case scenarios when it comes to this line of work-!” you walking backwards didn’t notice how close you were getting to the classroom, which means you didn't notice the blond who was right near the door causing you to bump into him.

“Watch it bitch!” Bakugou pushes you away causing you to fall about into Todoroki. 

“Alright asshole I’m not a freaking domino! You didn't need to push me!” you yell back in defense moving away from Todoroki. All Bakugou can do is give a scowl and walk into the classroom. “I Know I said it but I’m gonna say it again. What an asshole.” Todoroki nods following you into the classroom. 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Alright class I regret to inform you that the school board has decided that not only is it not enough we teach you hero skills we must now domesticate you. Following your continued hero work you will now be paired with someone who will be your fake married partner. You will have your dorms, each including bedrooms that only you can access with your thumbprint. You will be monitored with a sensor. If you can’t get along and you get no points or even worse, negative points you fail the semester. Which means no work study. No fighting.” Aizawa slips into his sleeping bag unusually quickly. The class is quiet for a moment before yelling commences. Questions are yelled and it isn't until Aizawas face looks annoyed it gets silent. The room is quiet enough you can hear other classrooms having the same reaction you all just had. You can’t help but think you were so far off in your assumptions and at this point you wish a hero was retiring. “I will answer questions but I am not talking over all of you.” Hands are quickly raised.

“What happens if you are paired up with someone insufferable?” Yaoyorozu asks, she’s bold but the majority of the class was thinking about it.

“To help encourage points if a pair can get over a 100 and have an overall ‘A’ Grade, you and your partner have the option to switch pairs with another group who is also in an overall ‘A’ Grade.” You and a couple of people sigh. It’s a relief.

“How does this Sensor work?” Midoriya asks, noting that he already has his notebook out on his desk.

“It looks like a camera, but it’s not. Created by some tech-savvy departments, it can sense and scan emotions and calculate to decide what points a pair shall receive. For example, if the pair gets into an argument, the machine with scan picks up what it needs to and calculates it into the point system. And more Mumbo jumbo.”

“So why exactly is this happening?” You ask.

“The school board wants to show what it’s like to balance the life you all hopefully will have when you graduate while still being a hero… there is more to it but that's neither here nor there. Pairings will be posted in a few. I need a nap.” And that's it. Aizawa closes his sleeping bag and the class is left with dreed until the pairings come out.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

A knock is heard at the door and Aizawa slowly unzips his sleeping bag and answers the door, grabbing the paper and walking in front of the class. Everyone is quiet. Aizawa tapes the paper onto the board. “Some of you are paired with people in here and others are paired with others in other classes. I want absolutely no complaints. Next to your name is the room of your dorms.” As you would expect he goes back into his sleeping bag and the room is engulfed in chaos, everyone runs to the board, adrenaline running to see who they got. Gradually pairs start forming some cheers and some blushing tension. You get to the board and scan the paper. Down at the bottom in black ink ‘Y/N L/N and Katsuki Bakugou room 381’ 

“You gotta be fucking joking.” Of course, you two find your names at the same time. Why does he sound so disgusted, you're a fucking treat! You are about to remark him but before you can Aizawa comes out of his sleeping bag.

“It looks like you all found your names. Class is going to start now, so go back to your seats.” Are we just going to act like nothing just happened?! 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The class had ended, and the girls and you were walking to your new dorms with some of your things from your old dorms. You were quiet, way too quiet for someone to notice.

“Girl you okay?” Ochaco hugs your arm, “normally you are leading our conversations.”

“No, duh, she’s quiet! She's got Bakugou as her husband,” you say silently, wondering if Mina could be any louder.

“I’m gonna die. Or my eardrums are gonna die. Either way, something is dying!” You can’t help but complain.

“What’s the deal with you both anyway?” Kyoka questions, “Normally people can have at least one decent conversation with Bakugou, But I’ve never seen you guys even hold a simple conversation. He won’t even communicate in battle with you? And he communicates with Midoriya.”

“I honestly don’t even know.” Truth is you did know and it was an embarrassing story that no one can get out of you. You went to middle school with both Bakugou and Midoriya. Over time and God knows how this happened you gained a crush on him and decided it would be a brilliant idea to confess. When you did it was a total embarrassment not only did he laugh in your face and shut you down, but He told those punk friends of his and they made your middle school life an embarrassment. You swore since that day he was your enemy. Childish yes? But still partly true to this day.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You wave the girls goodbye and look at your new dorm you share with your new ‘Husband.’ You can’t help but think how ironic this is. You take a deep breath and enter the dorm. In the dorm is surprisingly a kitchen to your left and a small living room area in front with a door leading out to a balcony. Bakugou is sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s clear he’s already made himself comfortable with how he's sprawled out he is. You decided it’s just best to wait it out in your room and make yourself dinner once he goes to bed. You look and see two doors one with your name on it and another with Bakugou’s to the right of the living room area, you start walking over to your respective door.

“Don’t expect shit out of me.” 

“I never expect anything out of you.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Bakugou stands up facing you, “Who do you think you are saying that?!”

“If you aren't gonna put in any effort I’m gonna say whatever I want to you assface!” You both hear a ding. You didn't notice it before but over the TV is a point counter. Negative one. Not even five minutes into the dorm and you have negative points. “Oh now look what you did!”

“I didn't do that!”

“Yeah, you did!”

“Not my fault I don’t wanna do this stupid ass simulation. I just wanna be a Hero. Number one hero at that. A family and wife-” he points at you, “is just a stupid distraction from that and I don’t need this.” you roll your eyes and walk into your room, “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” and you slam your door. You place your stuff down on your new bed and sit down putting your hands to your face. Your blushing?! Why the fuck are you blushing? Is it because he called you his wife? Which is stupid and just delusional, did you not hear what he said? A million thoughts are running through your head as you question yourself but nothing can deny the feelings in your stomach.

#mha bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia

[motherofdogs1010]

A Jedi in Arrakis II (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: eventual 18+, eventual smut, pinv!sex, currently FLUFF, eventual NSFW, jedi!reader, simp!Paul, Bene Gesserit ideology, Bene Gesserit breeding ideology, spoilers for Dune I and II, angst, talks of questioning the Force and teachings

A/N: I am changing the timeline of the Dune plot and certain events

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part I

A total of one month had passed since her arrival on Arrakis, the Duke have been kind enough to allow for her to stay with them. And during these few days, she had found Paul's company to be welcoming with the way he was intrigued about everything from the Force to her home on Naboo. It made her feel warm inside but she tried to ignore it, but she knew if Anakin was here, he'd been teasing her about it.

"What was that you did with the sandworm?" Paul asked, she looked at him.

"I used the Force", she answered with a frown. "Have you not heard of the Force?"

"No, never", Paul breathed, "it was... amazing. And what is that you carry?"

"It's my lightsaber", she answered as BB trailed next to her. "This is all so confusing, we are only a universe away and yet it's so different. This planet is really similar to Tattoonie and is very strong with the Force"

Paul let out a light chuckle in agreement, "it is. I would like to know more if you don't mind and tell you about Caladan, it's where I was raised."

"Of course", she said with a smile. "I'm only a padawan, if my Master was here, he'd probably get a big head and I'd love to hear more about your planet later."

"So, I'm assuming you're a student?"

"An apprentice, I don't become a Master until I am found ready to conquer the trials by the Jedi Council."

As she continued talking about the Force, the teachings, about Naboo, Paul seemed more interested as he listened intently and hanging off every word of hers. He did look over anxiously over at BB a few times before they came to one of the many loading bays at this compound as Paul asked, "can you really understand it?"

"BB? Yeah, anyone where I'm from understands basic droid language", she answered with a shrug. "BB's just a big goof, he's a prototype I was given."

BB let out a little offended noise and she patted his head.

"We have A.I. and robotics banned after we had a war with them", Paul said, she nodded.

"Atreides!" a booming voice declared and she saw a tall, tan skinned man with a big grin coming to Paul.

He looked like a warrior but the way Paul was excited to him let her know of the friendship the two had.

"Duncan", Paul said with a grin, "you're back from the South."

"With barely my life and oh! Who is this, Paul? A lady friend of yours", Duncan joked, she laughed. "I will say that those Fremen fight for blood."

"My name is Y/N and I... crash landed here when I hyper jumped", she said, BB whirled. "Oh and this is BB."

"I still don't understand how that is possible without Spice", Paul said. "You said Spice doesn't exist at all where you are from."

"I'm assuming my galaxy's technology is more advanced", she answered, "since we use droids and such, even our medicine is more advanced."

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Y/N, BB", Duncan said with a knowing grin, "I'm heading to my room to get some much needed rest."

Duncan turned and left with a grin as Paul watched as BB approached him, a finger poking BB on the head who let out a little war cry and began to bump Paul in the shins.

Paul had training to do and he had lend her to a quiet spot where she and BB could be, where she could focus on strengthening her Force training. Y/N had already done her lightsaber training, making sure she was still honing her skills even while on this odd planet.

"Ok, BB", she said, "let's get to it."

Sitting down with her legs crossed and her eyes closed, Y/N sucked in a deep breath and began to let her mind clear, remembering everything Anakin had told her and Ahsoka about being one with the Force. She had to empty her mind, allow herself to fully feel for the Force and as she evened out her breathing, she allowed for her mind and breathing to lull her...

🪐

The Reverend Mother had come earlier than expected and Lady Jessica found herself trailing behind her old teacher as the woman was scolding her for having birthed a son.

"What is this of a newcomer?" Reverend Mother asked. "I have heard whispers of a woman from another galaxy who possess odd abilities."

"She is no one", Jessica answered, "merely a lost traveler."

Jessica could feel the older woman's glare from behind the cage veil and felt like a student all over again.

"A lost traveler who held back a sandworm with a unseen power", Reverend Mother spat.

Jessica held back her emotions as she watched as a sudden thought passed over her mentor's eyes and Jessica felt unsure as to what she was thinking, but she held a hope it wasn't what she was thinking.

Had Paul been born a girl, he would have been married to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha of House Harkonnen, but Jessica had never intended to fall for Leto. It had been her greatest failure in the eyes of her Sisters when she chose to give Leto a son, that she chose to give her dearest love what he wanted: an heir.

At the time, her pride had made her even think Paul could become the Kwisatz Haderach, but now, she wasn't so sure and with the arrival of this strange girl, Jessica wondered.

She wondered if the Reverend Mother was plotting once again, she recognized that glint in the old woman's eye when she found a new individual to add to their growing breeding program.

Jessica tried to push down that curiosity and that anxiety that always seem to come when she thought about Paul's future.

🪐

"C'mon, Paul", Duncan encouraged, "focus. You need to always keep an eye on the enemy, it could mean life or death."

Paul nodded, "my mind was wandering, sorry."

The girl he had been dreaming about was here, he had first thought she could have been a Fremen with her garbs that she would sometimes be in the dreams, but no, she was from beyond their galaxy.

Paul sucked in a breath as he tightened his stance, trying to listen to Duncan's advice despite the way his mind was recalling the dreams.

The dreams where he could taste a unique drink as she smiled at him, it was a blue drink with the consistency of milk; another dream where they were here in Arrakis, the Spice in the sand glittering as they sat on a tall dune, watching a sandworm pass them by...

Arrakis was beautiful at night, Y/N concluded as she looked at the dark horizon; the air was cooler as she stood on the balcony. BB was in his hibernating mode to charge as Y/N was dressed in a thin nightgown meant for this weather, her robes folded up neatly as her hair hung loose from its hairstyle.

A knock came from her door and she sensed it was Paul, she walked over to the door and opened it.

"Paul", she greeted with a smile. "Shouldn't you be asleep? Being a Duke's son and such?"

"I wanted to talk more", Paul replied with a smile. "I decided my beauty sleep could wait a little longer."

"How kind of you", she joked, letting him in.

"I wanted to ask about your saber thing", Paul sheepishly said, "I've never seen anything like it and I wanted to ask more about you."

Y/N felt her eyes widen at Paul's statement about her, it made her heart thump in a way it hadn't before and she sheepishly looked away before moving to grab her lightsaber.

"It'd be too heavy for you to hold", she softly said, moving a bit aways so the heat of the saber wouldn't startle Paul. "Ready?"

Paul nodded with a boyish grin as she pressed the button, the hum of the lightsaber coming to life and the bright white of its color showing.

Paul looked at it amazed as she twirled it to show-off.

"How is it not heavy for you?" Paul asked.

"They train us from when we were young", Y/N said, "they give us little ones to get us used to the weight."

She shut the lightsaber off and put it on the dresser.

"Your galaxy seems so amazing", Paul softly said, walking in front of her. "I hope to see it one day."

"And Caladan sounds beautiful", Y/N replied back.

They were silent as they stared at one another, a small smile gracing Paul's lips as he said, "you look different with your hair down. I've never seen it."

"Oh", she said, flushed a bit. "Space Puffs are very popular on Naboo."

A strange feeling was in her chest, one that seemed to make her feel fuzzy and light as she stood in Paul's presence and she wondered if this is how Anakin felt when he saw Padme. One had to be a idiot to not see the glances the two gave one another.

"I better go back", Paul said after a minute, a boyish grin on his face. "If anyone saw me, they'd throw a scandal."

Y/N bite her bottom lip as she watched Paul leave and sucked in a breath as she contemplated these new feelings.

TAGLIST

@cloudlst

@khaleesihavilliard

@colors-for-the-world-please

#reader insert #x reader #chubby reader #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #dune part ii #dune movie #dune part 2 #paul atreides x you #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #starwars #star wars crossover

[fishynurse]

I heard rumors about X being a Disney Princess 👁👄👁

#quiet questions with robots

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Rightfully His ❙ TP Optimus Prime x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: Smut ( Fingering and spike penatration ) low angst, possessive behaviour, jealous behaviour, size difference and robot x human. NSFW 18+.

Notes: You people are sluts for dom Optimus, and I don't blame any of you. He a snack! Um, so, here you go you filthy animals.🥰

Also to add, Optimus Prime is using mass-displacement, though he's still large, if you get what I mean. I didn't want this to be a repeat from the first one I did so that's why I went with this approach.

A day at the beach sounded perfect. Optimus was kind enough to drive you there himself. You enjoy spending time with him. Though once there he would need to remain in his vehicle mode while you take a dip.

Wearing your favourite bathing suit you take a dive and enjoy yourself, waving at Optimus with a beaming smile which everyone will see as you waving at a truck. Not weird at all.

While you were enjoying yourself a few guys approached you. They introduced themselves as you did too, making small talk. They were nice, and the casual talk turns into flirting, and you can't help but beam in return with a flushed face.

It's not often guys flirt with you so it was kind of nice to have it happen, though you weren't really looking for any kind of relationship at the moment. You already had your eyes on someone but you doubted they felt the same back, so you didn't hold your breath about it.

For now you enjoy the attention from these guys.

Not aware, Optimus watches. Being in his vehicle mode you couldn't tell he was glaring hard at the guys, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and hide you from their prying eyes.

What bothers him more is that you're enjoying the attention.

It's not until afterwards that you finally leave the beach and jog towards Optimus' truck form. He stares at your breasts under the bikini bouncing with each move and that makes him groan lowly.

"That was just what I needed. Thanks Optimus, it was really nice of you to drive me." You say happily as I put the towel on the leather seat and sat on it so you don't get too wet or sand everywhere.

This was a last night thing so you didn't bring any spare clothes.

"So, you had fun?" Optimus asks through a hint of dullness, which you didn't pick up on right away.

"So much fun!" You continue to beam softly before relaxing against the seat. "So, my place? Wouldn't want you returning to base at a late hour."

"Of course." Optimus can only sigh before leaving the beach with the sunset setting across the long strip of road. The drive is perhaps an hour from your place, so you get comfortable.

Optimus watches you as he drives, stretched out on the seat wearing only your bikini, skin damp as the setting sun glitters across you. He notices your perky nipples through your thin top. He lets out a low groan, forcing himself to rev his engine to try and hide it, which doesn't work as you pick up on this.

"Are you alright?" You question curiously.

"I'm fine." His answer was dull and that's when you start noticing his odd behaviour.

"You don't sound fine." You point out, more curious as you sit up more against the seat. "What's wrong?"

Optimus knew he wasn't able to hide it anymore, not after so long. "Those men from the beach, they seemed very friendly with you."

"Oh those guys? Yeah I guess they were. It's nice to be noticed honestly." You can't help but giggle lightly.

"You liked the attention they gave you." He adds and that's when you furrow your brows. He goes on before you can answer. "You were friendly back, smiling, blushing. Do you often flirt with other men like that?" Now this is weird to you.

"Um...I don't know, I guess? It's not everyday I have guys flirting with me. Why does that bother you?" You can't help but cross your arms.

It was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I don't want you flirting with other men, or accepting such behaviour from them towards you." He can't be serious?

You can't help but let out a scoff. "Seriously? Optimus, it's harmless flirting. Besides, why do you care? It's not like we're dating." You answer through an annoyed pout.

It's Optimus. He's the one you've got your eyes on. From the moment you both first met you've been overly fascinated by him, and you're already friendly with him, taking any chance to spend time with the big bot. But you were both completely different and you don't think he felt the same way towards you, so you never advanced to push your friendship any further.

However, now it seems things are getting on thin ice.

"Jesus Christ, you sound so jealous. No, you don't get to be jealous, alright? If I'm going to flirt with guys then I'm going to flirt!" You are honestly annoyed. How dare he!

"No." His simple answer doesn't settle well with you.

"No?"

"No. You won't. That's an order." This is getting out of hand.

"An order? No, you don't get to order me around! We're not dating!" You had to repeat again.

"Are you refusing to follow my order?" You have no idea what's wrong with him, or why he is behaving like this. Surely he doesn't have feelings for you?

"Yes...I'm disobeying your order, Optimus Prime! Fuck you!" You lose your temper as you shout, feeling both angry and emotional.

Suddenly the seat belt tightens around your body and pins you against the leather seat causing the air in your to be pushed out.

"Optimus?" You can't help but whisper his name, staring at the dashboard as if that's where he is staring at you from while he drives.

"I'm taking you back to base." He simply answers, tone casual and dark at once.

Swallowing thickly you try to adjust yourself but he made it hard with just how tight the seat belt was on you and he wasn't going to loosen his hold on you.

"N-no, I said take me home." You remind him but he refuses.

"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and reminded." This get's your heart racing. What is he talking about?

"Lesson? Reminded? Of what?" You can't help but question.

"That you're mine."

His? What the hell is he saying?

You couldn't move and you heart rate wouldn't slow down. Optimus has never spoken to you like this before and that kind of scared you. He is acting possessive, as if you really did belong to him but you didn't. Right?

The rest of the drive was dead quiet. You can't bring yourself to say anything or even struggle, and your heart rate never once slowed down.

Once returning no one else was around you figured this out. Optimus transformed with you still inside him which he's never done before. It makes you yelp in surprise before oyu find yourself in his servo.

He doesn't look down at you as he walks into his quarters and over to his berth where he finally places you. Stepping back he stares, watching you. You are still damp from the beach and in your bikini you can only sit there and stare back, breathing heavily, wondering just what he is thinking.

Finally he moves towards you. He sat on the berth right beside you making your breath hitch, before something happened you didn't think possible. His large frame starts shifting, shrinking himself until he is at her level.

The sudden action leaves you speechless, unable to form words as you stare at him. He still has that firm stare on him and you go to say something but he cuts you off.

"Remember, you're here so I can remind you who you belong to." Your response is to give a nervous nod, but you can't help the thrill that burns through your core.

"Optimus, you sound upset?" You manage to say through a shaky breath. "Have I hurt you?"

"You have." His answer is not what you expect. "For a long time I've admired you, wanted you, but I saw you felt something towards me but I feared I might've been wrong. Seeing you with those humans, that bothered me. I don't want you doing that anymore."

"Anymore? So...what does this mean? What am I to you?"

"You're mine. That's what."

Suddenly he leans closer and you find yourself laying back on the berth where he had laid a blanket for you. He's hovering across your shivering body, his shadow consuming you.

"What are you doing?" You whisper through a heated gasp. Your body was reacting in a whole different way, one that is arousal.

"What I've wanted to do for a long time." Suddenly, he kisses you.

You can only let out a muffled yelp against his lips, which are oddly enough soft and warm. You respond through a low throaty moan, hand sliding up against his cheek plating as you savour his lips. You've imagined this for so long but never thought it would be this beautiful to feel the primes lips against your own.

Optimus responds back through a deep moan himself before gently pushing his glossa inside your mouth making you gasp and return the same with your own tongue. Both your hands were against him, caressing his face and slowly deepening the kiss more.

You love him. That's right. As silly as it might sound, you have been deeply in love with Optimus for a long while. But now, he was your obsession, an addiction you craved. All this time he wanted you and you had no idea. He was good at hiding it. Not anymore.

His servos move across your body, dancing over your quivering skin before feeling his digits tug at your bikini bottoms, the lace flying loose as he tosses them aside. Next is your top and that is gone pretty quickly with some help from you.

Bare naked, you wrap your arms around his neck and move your thighs up over his hips, grinding yourself against his plating which causes him to moan back in approval.

You need him, you want him, you ache for him.

"Optimus..." His name whispers from your lips as his mouth moves to your neck where he gently nips against your tender skin. "Feels so good."

"I only want you to feel good, and to know only I can ever do this to you." He says softly before moving his servo down to your core where he rubs his digit between your folds before gently pushing one inside your depths.

The sudden feel of his thick digit makes your back arch and he doesn't stop there, pushing further and curling into your clenching walls.

You respond perfectly, hips arching up and grabbing hold onto his shoulder pads, moaning loudly without any care who might hear you, and it didn't seem to bother Optimus either.

"I want everyone to know you belong to me, y/n." He says once again, as if you had forgotten. His digit pumps into you before he adds a second, stretching you so nicely. "I want you to be mine. Do you want me to be yours?"

"Yes!" You answer with glee and without doubt. "You, I want you!"

Optimus smiles hearing this. "Good."

He removes his digits from you and you grab hold of his servo, bringing it back up and sucking at his moist digits, letting out a low moan as you taste yourself.

Optimus lets out a low growl of approval as his vents kick in, metal heating up as his throbbing cable presses against his panel, demanding to be released.

You feel him rutting gently against your bare core, moaning loudly as your swollen clit grind against his plating. You needed him inside you, now!

"Optimus," you whisper his name into his audio before finishing, "Fuck me."

Any self control was gone.

You hear the sound of metal shifting, Optimus as well, before suddenly feeling the warm tarped tip of his cable pressing against your core and moving within, not holding back as he fills you completely, flushing his hips against you firmly.

The sudden fullness feeling his throbbing spike invade you is an experience you only ever imagined, and it's nothing compared to the real thing. He fills you so much, to the point you hiss through a moan and move your hand to your belly where you feel the tightness, only to gasp when you feel a bulge caused by Optimus.

"So full..." You moan out. "Feels good."

"Y/n." Optimus whispers your name as his optics flash through the arousal he was feeling building through him.

"Please move, I need to feel you fuck me, please." You plead while you caress his face under your hands, biting your lips as you clench around his more get him going.

Optimus does as you want, or what he wants, whichever it is. He rolls his hips back before driving forward again, pushing more deep beautiful moans from your plump lips.

His pace doesn't flatter as you wrap you legs tightly around his rocking hips, tugging him against you more as you hands grip into whatever armour plating you can get your hands on.

You feel every ridge of his throbbing spike brush along your inner walls, the tip pressing up against your belly, bobbing with each thrust Optimus gives you.

All you can do is pant and hold on, embracing your desires and what you've dreamed of now finally coming true. If only you knew he could change his size, perhaps you might've said something sooner about your strong feelings towards him and avoided the fight you two had.

It doesn't matter. The past is the past, and this is now, moving forward.

Optimus lets out long groans as he fills you over again before adjusting himself a little, and gaining a better angle before his movements become more firm and short.

The sound of his soft metal slapping against your damp skin filling both your ears and his audios added to the growing pleasure between you both.

One servo grips into your hip as he sets a more firmer pace, grunting out as you clench more around him, making it very difficult for him to hold himself from finishing so soon.

But you want it, to feel his fluids fill you deeply right now. You'll have other opportunities to explore and experience another time. This won't be the only time that you know.

"Please, Optimus, I want you to fill me so badly! Don't hold back, please. Just let me feel it all, please! I'm yours! Only yours!" You can't help but chant over again through your arousal as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasim.

Through your chanting Optimus lifts your hips up and ruts against your core, speed strong as his vents kick in and throat moans grow more furiously.

You let out a half broken sobbed cry of bliss as you suddenly feel your orgasim crush through you, and Optimus at the same time let out a strong burst of energy as he fills you deeply with his fluids, belly full of his spike and the warm liquid he spills within.

Holding on you relish every second, body shaking through the after shocks of your orgasim before eventually he slowly pulls out from you, feeling so empty now as some of his fluids follow behind.

In your orgasim daze you didn't realise that Optimus had turned back to his normal size self and held you close in his warm servo.

As you lay in his servo you curl your body around his digit before he brings you closer to his face where he gives you a soft nuzzle making you smile and hum in return.

Even after being in control and possessive over you, he also has some loving aftercare for you in store. He cares about you deeply, you know this, and you care about him.

"You'll always be mine. Understood?" Optimus says tenderly and you can only nod softly, having no complaints about that.

"Always. Does this mean we're dating?"

"How about I take you on a date?" The offer makes your belly fill with warmth.

"I would love that."

"Then we're dating." He confirms proudly.

You are rightfully his.

#transformers #optimus prime #prime #reader insert #optimus prime x reader #robot x human #possessive optimus prime #dom optimus prime #possessive #smut #For all the optimus prime sluts! #fanfiction #writing #sugarrusheag

[moonstruckme]

any chance you'd be willing to do disassociating!reader with sirius as a fade into you prompt?

Thanks for requesting!

join the party

cw: mentions of blood, reader is in shock/dissociates after injury-related trauma

Sirius Black x reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’ve long since stopped shaking by the time you get back to your apartment, but it still takes you a few tries to get the key in the door, your movements robotic and seeming somehow separate from you. 

“Hey, you’re home late,” Sirius greets you as you walk through the door. “I was just starting to think about dinner. How would you feel about…shit.” He stops as he comes into the living room, gaze snagging on your legs, dried blood staining them from the knees down. Your shoes, which used to be white but are now a rusty brown. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not mine.” 

“Okay.” He’s still standing a good few feet away, like you’re characters in a play, reciting your lines without moving. “Whose is it?”

“Macy’s.” 

“Alright.” The word is meaningless, but not any more than the rest of them, you suppose. Sirius steps closer, slowly, as if wary of spooking you. “Is she okay?” 

“She, uh.” You swallow. “Yeah, she’s okay. Or she will be. She fell and hit her head, but they said she’ll be okay.” 

“Who said, darling?” 

“The nurses. I just got back from the hospital.” You remember the ambulance ride there, the ridiculous quiet of it all. You’d thought that when someone was hurt that bad, hospitals were all beeping and yelling and people running around. But they’d only asked Macy questions in calm, measured voices, no beeping or alarms to be heard. What did you have to eat today? Do you know why you fell?

“Sweetheart.” Sirius looks gutted, and you don’t know why he’s using that tone with you. You’re not the one who cracked your head open. “You should have called me, lovely. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

“You were at work.” It’s simple, a fact. “Anyway, there was nothing you could do.” 

Sirius takes your face in his hand, and it feels like he’s touching someone else, your skin waxy and foreign. “I would have left work to be there with you. It sounds like it was an awful thing to have to deal with by yourself.” 

You guess it probably was. You’d had to put pressure on Macy’s head until the paramedics got there, kneeling in a pool of her blood as it seeped from the wound and time seemed sluggish and unreal. You know, objectively, that it was one of the more awful experiences you’ve had, and you’ll probably be dreaming about it for years. But it doesn’t feel that way right now. Nothing feels any sort of way right now. 

“How long were you at the hospital for?” Sirius asks. “When did this happen?” 

You don’t know. It was…the sun was still out, when she fell on the sidewalk. But the length of time you were sitting there with her, or the time in the ambulance, is all stretched out and murky. You know you got back to your car and drove home, but you can’t recall any part of the journey. You leave that last bit out of what you tell Sirius, but his frown deepens anyway. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh? Here, let me take those off.” 

He bends over, untying your shoes for you, and you watch as dried blood flakes off the laces where they bend unwillingly. Sirius doesn’t comment on it, slipping your shoes off one after the other and setting them by the door. His hands are delicate about your shoulders as he steers you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet. You’re distantly cognizant of him moving about, opening and closing a cabinet and turning on the faucet, but it’s not until he crouches in front of you that he enters your awareness again. 

Sirius takes your ankle in his hand and begins just below your knee, rubbing a warm, wet washcloth over the blood staining the skin there. He’s talking, still, in a low voice, but the murmurings don’t seem to have much importance other than placation. It’s more ambient noise than anything else. He works the washcloth down your leg, the rough fabric scrubbing gently at your skin. He presses harder in some areas where the blood is stubborn, and that’s where you feel it most. The beginnings of real sensation, connected to you rather than some shell that you occupy and that moves when you tell it to. 

By the time he starts on your other leg you feel as though you’ve been thinking through a dense fog that’s beginning to lift; you’re able to feel the warm droplets of water running down your calf and make out some of the quiet words spewing from your boyfriend’s mouth. He finishes with your legs, and you hold up your hands, now trembling again. The blood there is cracked around the lines of your palm, and Sirius takes your hand in his, wiping it away gently. You can feel the cloth even more there, where it brushes against your sensitive fingertips. You can tell now that Sirius is telling you stories, various anecdotes of when he or his friends had gotten hurt. 

“It’s scary to see someone you care about in pain,” he goes on at a murmur. “Even when you know they’ll be alright, I think it hurts worse than when we’re in pain ourselves.” 

A tear dribbles down your cheek, landing with a splat on your thigh, and Sirius looks up, surprise morphing into heartbreak when he sees your expression. He drops the cloth on the floor, rising to an awkward height so that you can put your head against his shoulder when his arms come around you. 

“I know, baby.” His voice sounds almost fragile, as though he’s feeling this as acutely as you are. “I’m so sorry you went through that. Are you feeling a little more like yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff. Your tears are still coming slowly, and you know the majority of your panic is still buried somewhere safe inside of you, but this is enough for now. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me.” 

Sirius pulls back, thumbing away your tears as he studies your face, eyebrows set close together in concern. “I think you’re in shock, sweetness. It makes sense, that’s a lot for anyone to have to see.” He strokes at your hairline, just beside your eye. “Do you want to talk about it? If not, we don’t have to. We can just watch a movie or something, try to forget about it for tonight.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to find the voice inside yourself that usually tells you who you are, what you want. It’s still quiet, but you think that’s answer enough. “The second one, please. I don’t think I’m ready to think about it yet.” 

“Alright, whatever you want.” Sirius nods, rising and offering you his hands to help pull you up. You take them, and he presses a kiss to your forehead as soon as you’re standing. “Whenever you feel ready, lovely, I’ll be here.” 

#moonstruckme 1k celebration #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x self insert #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black drabble #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[fatkish]

Aizawa and Class 1A x Student Alchemist Reader

In this, the reader has the same tattoos as scar. The reader’s left arm deconstructs molecules and their right arm reconstructs molecules.

The reader is quirkless so they use Alchemy to even the odds and are good at combat.

The reader took the entrance exam and has similar grade to Momo. Momo and the Reader share the 1/20 place amongst their peers

The reader aced the written test and destroyed the robots by using their alchemy to disassemble them. They got 45 villain points and 45 rescue points

When the teachers were looking over the students papers, Aizawa and Nedzu were amazed and skeptical of the reader being quirkless

Aizawa didn’t believe that you were quirkless so he used his quirk on you during his quirk apprehension test. Obviously it failed and he realized your were being honest on your paperwork. Still grilled you about it

Aizawa is ever so slightly more protective and stricter on you than other students. He worries all the time so he is a little harsher on you but you know that he just wants to push you a little more

You’re currently studying both flame and medical alchemy. You tend to study with recovery girl and help her out whenever you get the chance

During All Might’s hero vs villain training you were paired with Momo (Mineta didn’t get into the hero course) against Jirou and Kaminari. You won by creating a sleeping gas and put them to sleep whilst you and Momo wore gas masks she made

Bakugou refuses to admit your strength but has a secret respect for you since you beat him by altering his sweat’s molecules so it wasn’t explosive

Izuku has so many notes on you and has asked to draw your tattoos and you even began to teach him basic alchemy, although he sucks at it

When questioning you, you told Izuku that you were quirkless which he accidentally let it slip to his friends who then let the class know

After that you explained to the class that alchemy can be performed by anyone, it just take years of study and practice to perform and understand the basic rules and applications

Some didn’t believe you so you removed your shoe to show them all your second joint in your pinky toe as proof

Some still have a hard time believing it but most of the class accepted it

Kirishima, Sero, Iida, Jirou and Uraraka think you’re (manly) incredible and ambitious for dedicating yourself to something and making yourself strong despite the odds

Ashido, Kaminari and Hagakure still don’t believe that you’re quirkless

Tokoyami and Shoji both admire your strength and perseverance in trying to become a hero despite lacking a power and having been ridiculed and criticized for your dreams

Ojiro and you train in martial arts often as a means to strengthen one another

Tsuyu and you get along just fine as you both are some of the more mature students in classs

You tend to hang out with the quiet kids like Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda

You and Momo both bond over and help each other study the molecular make up of certain items

During the USJ attack, you used your flame alchemy on the Nomu. You used your conductive gloves to create the flames and tried to roast the Nomu

You took Hatsume’s place on Midoriya’s team in the Calvary battle

You fought Iida in the first rounds and won by creating a rugged and difficult terrain to run in as a means to slow him down, then you used your alchemy to seal his engines and managed to hit him in a pressure point that immobilized him

Todoroki was amazed when you were able to beat him in the sports festival. You turned his ice into water and then changed the arrangement of the stage’s molecular structure to that of quicksand and used the ground to swallow him up, winning your match.

Bakugou was pissed off when you altered your body’s carbon to be on the outside creating a skin of diamond like armor that his explosions couldn’t beat

You got 1st place in the festival but All Might accidentally let it slip during the award ceremony that you were quirkless

You got the third most offers from pros for internships out of the class

You ended up going with Best Jeanist and had a rather good time compared to Bakugou

After the Internships were over, you had mastered your flame alchemy and used it against All Might in your practical exam

Bonus: Todoroki learned that you can’t use flame alchemy when it’s raining or if your wet and accidentally started the ‘useless when wet’ shtick.

Now Bakugou makes fun of you whenever you get your gloves wet and acts like you need protection and enjoys babying you.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #dadzawa #dad might #all might x reader #platonic class 1a #class 1a x reader #mha #bnha #best jeanist

[chaotic-toasters]

Gone

Cortnee Vine x Reader (taken from my Wattpad)

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

-------------------------

"Y/N, you good?" Kyra's usual mischevious grin was gone, replaced with a look of concern that was quickly mirrored by Charli. "You seem out of it."

It took a moment for you to realize she was talking to you, eyes snapping up to meet hers. "Uh– yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" the Gunner's voice was soft as she placed a hand on your shoulder. "It's okay to not be okay."

"I'm sure," you insisted, shrugging her off. "You and Charli have fun."

You weren't fine. That much was clear to anybody with working eyes. You'd come down for meals, only to eat half of the amount you should have. You'd train, only to act like a robot who didn't know how to have fun. You spent hours cooped up in your room, only coming outside when Mini and Steph physically dragged you out. It was unhealthy, and everyone was starting to worry.

"Y/N?" Macca questioned, sitting down next to you. "What's going on with you?"

You glanced around briefly, taking note of all of your teammates gathered around the sofas.

"What is this? An intervention?" you joked dryly. "I'm just going through something small. I'll get over it soon, don't worry about it."

"Y/N, if you're going through something, you need to tell us," Sam chided. "We're—"

"We're a team, and a team is family, blah blah blah," you rolled your eyes. "I know. But I told you it's fine."

"It sounds stupid, but it's true," Mini crossed her arms. "So are you gonna tell us, or are you going to keep suffering alone?"

"I think I'll keep it to myself, thank you," you stood, patting your knees. "I'll see you guys later."

"Sit," Steph growled, forcing you back down. "Tony's already worried about you, but we've told him we'll handle it. Do you want us to get him involved?"

Your nostrils flared. "You wouldn't."

"We will if you don't open your fuckin' mouth and talk," the Defender glared. "You know I'll do it."

You were silent.

"Come on, Y/N, just tell us what's going on," Cortnee pleaded. "We're your friends."

Friends. Something you didn't want to be with the Sydney FC Winger. Since the first time you met her, and she'd smile shyly while offering you her hand to shake, you'd fallen for her. Hard. And it hurt. Because you knew she didn't feel the same. To make matters worse, she already had a girlfriend who she was happy with. Much happier than she'd be with you.

"Just... mind your own damn business," you retorted weakly, attempting to shake Steph off you. "I can handle my own problems."

"Your problems are our problems," Mini reminded you. "If something is bothering you, we're here to help."

"You and Steph," you nodded to the door. "No one else."

You stood first, leading your two mentors outside.

"Well?" Steph placed her hands know her hips.

"I like Cortnee," you blurted. "I— um..."

Mini raised her eyebrows. "Which one?"

"Uh... Vine."

"Okay. Continue."

"I've liked her for years," you swallowed. "But she doesn't like me like that. And she has a girlfriend. It's hard to— to see Cortnee when... when I know I'll never compare to her."

Steph and Mini shared a look.

"Come here, kiddo," Steph said gently, opening up her arms. "It'll be okay."

You slumped into her warm hug, crying softly into her shoulder. You didn't know if you should have been glad or upset that they didn't tell you to confess your feelings to Cortnee. That meant that your suspicions had been correct, and that she didn't feel the same, but that also mean your suspicions had been correct. A total catch-22.

"Why don't you take a nap, kiddo?" Steph whispered, caressing your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

---------------------

"I'm not gonna lie to her, Sam," Steph's voice was quiet. "I can't give her false hope. It's not like she believes it, anyway. Cortnee sees her as a friend. Nothing more."

"I just feel bad," Sam mumbled. "Are you sure there's nothing we can do?"

"I'm sure," the Defender confirmed sadly. "If she tells Viney, then things'll probably be awkward for one of them or both of them. If she doesn't tell Viney, then she has to keep her true feelings bottled up for the rest of her international career."

"No, I don't," you said suddenly, startling the the two captains. "I have a way out. And as much as it hurts to take it, it'll hurt more if I don't."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked worriedly. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just as Dutch as I am Australian," you refused to meet both of their widening eyes. "I'm eligible to play for the Oranje Leeuwinnen Vrouwen."

"What?" Sam was dumbfounded. "But you can't... we're your family!"

"If you and Kristie both played for the same national team, but Kristie was in a relationship with someone else and didn't love you back, would you still want to play with that team?"

Her silence spoke volumes.

"It's been quite the ride," you stood, offering a faint smile to both Sam and Steph. "Thank you both. I don't know when my transfer will be approved, but... I can't see Cortnee anymore. It hurts. A lot."

Sam looked ready to protest, but Steph instantly wrapped you in a motherly hug. "I'm so proud of you. You're gonna do great things. Make sure you call me though, yeah?"

You swallowed. "Yeah. Could you—could you do me a favour?"

"Of course."

"Tell all the girls that—" you sucked in a breath. "Tell all the girls that I've loved every minute of this journey with them, and that it's none of their faults I'm leaving. Could you—could you tell them the truth? The whole truth? I would, but I can't be there to see Cort's reaction. It would kill me."

Sam nodded, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. "Good luck, Y/N. We'll be cheering you on, always."

-----------------------

"Thanks, Tony," you shook hands with the manager gratefully. "You've been great."

"You as well, Y/N," he stated kindly. "Just remember that you've always got family in this team. You can come to us if you've ever got a problem. The Matildas are behind you."

Your lip wobbled. "I'll see you around, boss."

"Have a good one, Y/N."

--------------------

"As of today, Y/N will no longer play for Australia," Steph's voice shook slightly. "She'll be transferring to the Netherlands for the foreseeable future."

The room was dead silent.

"What?" Ellie was the first to speak. "Wh—why?"

Sam lowered her head. "She fell in love."

"With who!?" Cortnee looked upset. "She doesn't even have any Dutch teammates!"

Mini shook her head. "She didn't fall in love with a Dutch player."

"Then who—" Cortnee's eyes widened. "She likes one of us? Who?"

That's when it clicked for everyone else. The longing glances, the overly kind gestures, the touches that lasted just a bit too long; you loved Cortnee, but she hadn't even realized you liked her in the first place.

"Oh, Viney..." Lydia grimaced. "Poor Y/N."

"What is it?" the Winger was clearly starting to get annoyed that everyone knew something she didn't. "Just tell me already!"

Steph, Mini, and Sam all shared a look.

"Cort, there's no easy way to say this, but—" Steph felt as though there was something caught in her throat. "Y/N loved you. But she knew that you didn't feel the same."

Cortnee's breath hitched in her throat. She was suddenly taken back to a night at one of last year's training camps.

"Hey, Viney?" you started, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Shoot."

"Are you happy in your current relationship?" your tone was innocent.

She smiled. "Yeah. Char's so sweet, how could I not be happy? I could totally imagine a future with her."

Something in your eyes had shattered. That much was clear to her now. But she'd been too preoccupied thinking about her girlfriend that it had slipped her mind.

"Oh, Y/N..." Cortnee's voice was barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You deserve to be happy," her head snapped up at the sound of your raspy voice. "Who am I to take that away from you?"

"Y/N—"

"Thank you, girls, for my time here," you smiled weakly from the doorway, meeting each of your former teammates' eyes, though you struggled to meet Cortnee's. "It's been fun. I'm glad to have met all of you, to have shared the pitch with you, and most importantly, to become friends with all of you. I'll see you soon."

And just like that, you were gone.

#cortnee vine #Cortnee Vine x Reader #angsty angst #angst #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #matildas #australia wnt