#i have nothing to say i don't even know where this came from

[cute-sucker]

note: thank you @.princessbrunette for creating boxer!rafe !!

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

you clutched the pregnancy test, clammy hands shaking as you felt more scared than ever. rafe was still in his match, and you- you were forbidden from coming to his matches. the last time you came his opponent had made a pass at you after rafe brutally beat him. 

the guy plummeted to the ground before he could utter another word, and rafe decided that enough was enough. so he sat you down, in your little cameo shorts and baby white tee. your thick lashes battered as he tried to come out the truth. the two of you were in the completely vacant locker room. 

"listen, kid, i don't think you should come to my matches anymore," he said gently, as you gripped his arm. you had a sweet expression on your face before you heard what he had said - quickly wilting as you frowned at him. before you could open your mouth he had already cupped your face as softly as he could.

his hands were rough and warm on your face, you could smell the brutality on them, yet you felt yourself at ease in his embrace. you could never admit it - but rafe had some control over you that you could never explain. 

"i know you're going to say it's your calling," he quipped, leaning in closer. his hot breath fanned your neck, as his mouth nipped at your cheek, "but baby i don't think this place is good for you." you felt yourself unwind and opened your mouth to blubber something. 

you finally gasped out, "but i wanna see you!" 

he groaned, steady hand moving down to your waist. there was an amused expression on his face, but he stayed firm. 

"rafe? please." 

"no."

that was it. so you got another job, and later on, rafe told you to stay at tanyhill with him. you were overjoyed that you would get to see him more and that he was being so gracious. all the girls in the ring had told you he was a playboy and nothing more than that. and you would never tell rafe but it was nice not being a ring girl. sure it was a way to get money fast, but your thighs ached from the amount of times you shined and plucked them.

but it wasn't just that. it was also the dark humid lights that dawned upon you, and trotting while people eyed you like a piece of meat. and now, you felt free, and while rafe would never understand why you chose it - you were a waitress. 

the owner, delany liked you, so she didn't give you a hard time about anything. it was a cafe where time seemed to slow and it was as if nothing could go wrong. you got up early in the morning, giving rafe a goodbye kiss while he was in bed as he groaned about you leaving so early. you took life at strides. things were great. 

but here it was. a sign that maybe everything was going to go to shit. be fine. your heartbeat quickened and you could barely breath - that was when you knew it was going to be bad. you could barely imagine yourself pregnant. 

how old were you? 25? yeah, that was too young and quite frankly did rafe even want a baby? sure he mentioned it sometimes, when you went to baby showers and cooed a baby clothes. but would he-? it was another mouth to feed and god you didn't know if you could support that. rafe, sure, but if he left you? and it was an actual human being to love.

finally, you found yourself rushing out of the bathroom. you had to tell him now, as your heart was on fire, and your hands were stinging. quickly you gathered your stuff and headed over to delany. 

"i have to go." 

˚❀༉‧₊˚.

the ring was the same as usual. the same musty smell, and that feeling of everything being possible. you weren't recognised - though you did see a couple of familiar faces in the crowd. but you weren't here to chit-chat. 

urgency drummed through your veins as you found rafe. 12:35. it was almost time for his first match, and you couldn't dump on him like that. no, you really could there was this feeling. this feeling that ran through you like wildfire as you stumbled to him. 

he looked good, better than good, but he looked alarmed as you twisted yourself around his body. 

"hey, hey kid," he laughed at you furiously hugging his middle, "i love that you're here but i told you about visiting me, didn't i? we had this conversation-" he was stopped right there as you kissed him, cupping his face. he was out of breath, pupils dilated when it finally set in. 

maybe he saw the way you sweet doe eyes were welling up with tears, or the way you swayed in his arms as if he let you go you could crumble, or the way you were trying to mouth words, but nothing was coming out of your mouth. he furiously swore under his breath, and pulled you along with him - you followed like a puppy. 

the dim lights of the corner he had pulled you in soothed your state. no longer did your skin ich, but your head still pounded. rafe looked down at you with a worried expression, as he rubbed your back. you were still holding on to him, wide-eyed. 

"hey?" he snapped his fingers, "can't be doing that here. not right now. what's wrong?" he asked harshly, and you shook your head, completely nonverbal. he raised a hand through his buzzed hair, concern evident in his eyes. whenever you got like this- which was never he had to remind himself to be gentle. 

finally, he dropped himself, voice quiet. he didn't care if people saw him like this- all vulnerable. "sweets are you okay?" he probed again. finally with trembling hands, you reached out into your bag to get the pregnancy test- and broke into tears. the two double lines spread fear throughout his heart. 

rafe had changed. that was a fact, he no longer was plagued by his fathers words as much as before. but could he be a father? suddenly he looked down at you, wispy lashes wet, and doe eyes pleading. suddenly, he felt something blossom in his heart. he imagined you running around in tannyhil, round with his kid. you would be wearing a pretty sun dress, as laughter rang through you. 

finally, he closed his eyes, "it's gonna be okay." 

you seemed to take that as a bad sign, gasping out muffled words, "no, rafe, i didn't know what was going to happen, please-" your hand reached out for his, hoping that things were going to be okay. 

rafe was still looking at the test, as he closed and opened his mouth before shaking his hand, "we're gonna get married, all right? yeah, and i want you to stay here with me. 'cause i need you here." he said tapping your head. there was a watery smile on your face, as you jumped into his arms. 

he held you tightly, and you sniffed. before letting go of him to look into his eyes. it was at that moment that you realised how much he loved you. when he's staring at you like you are his world, and his steel eyes are soft. when his eyes are welling up with tears. 

"just really happy and shit," he chuckled, "i can't believe this," he murmured out before pressing his lips on yours. finally, he pulled apart from you, still gazing into your eyes. 

 "you should go," you found yourself whispering out "it's time for your match." yet your hand found a deathly hold on him.

you saw him smile, and give you a peck on the lips, "want you to watch, 'kay? i'm fighting this match for you," and then his hands travelled down to your stomach, "you and baby." 

dazed you watched him step up into the ring and sighed. if this was love, you'd fight for it any day. 

#boxer!rafe #rafe outer banks #obx fic #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #angst #fluff #rafe obx #drabble #boxer!au #shy!reader #pregnancy #dad!rafe #obx #outer banks #dad!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe concepts #SCREAMING i need boxer!rafe in my guts

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯

chris x black earthy/boho!reader

IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.

WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.

5 a.m.

It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.

She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.

She found their company relieving.

Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.

She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.

"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.

"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.

She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.

Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.

That's how Chris found her.

He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".

He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.

To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.

Speaking of the boy...

She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"

"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.

She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.

The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.

"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''

"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.

The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.

Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.

"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.

"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.

"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.

The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.

As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.

"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.

"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.

"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.

"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.

"Huh?"

Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."

"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."

Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.

They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.

After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.

"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"

"I get to see Janelle every day!"

"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.

The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.

They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.

"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.

"I love you too"

The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.

The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.

i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets fluff #Spotify

[holdmytesseract]

Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....

Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!

Nothing Less Than A Goddess

Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗

P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀

You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.

"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"

You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"

"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"

Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.

"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.

Well, that was true. He had a point.

You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.

"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...

"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"

You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"

You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.

Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."

Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"

"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"

Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."

You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.

Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"

Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"

You blushed.

"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"

You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.

"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x pregnant reader

[intoanotherworld23]

Wanna Feel The Heat

Summary: your fathers always told you if you play with fire you’ll get burned, and with Joel you didn’t listen

Warnings: mdni 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dom Joel, security Joel, slight choking, minor spanking, dirty talk, a form of exhibitionism, praise kink

A/N: reblogs and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged. If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list don’t hesitate to ask it’s always open for everyone! Thanks so much for your continued support it means a lot to me! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Daddy know about what his precious princess is doing?" His words echoing in your ear the heat rising to your cheeks. Heavy hands gripping your hips so hard you could feel burning.

Your father was an important man, and therefore needed security to insure his safety. That's where Joel came in. Flirting back and forth with innocent touches then turning into him dragging you to the nearest bathroom. Should have your head bowed in shame for what you were doing, but instead you were bent over the sink letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

"His angelic daughter getting fucked by his security in the bathroom. So desperate to be fucked." Hearing him say it out loud was even hotter than you expected it to be.

"Hear how wet you're gettin." His southern drawl came out a hand coming down on your cheeks making you jolt as he snickers more to himself. "Gonna have this cunt achin' for days."

Joel shamelessly bucking his hips into your backside while watching you through the mirror in the bathroom. Forcing you to watch yours and his expression. Taking notice how his cheeks were bright red, and pressing his lips together when he felt himself getting closer. Everything about this was wrong yet neither one of you were doing anything to stop it.

"Should have you scream so daddy can hear." Continuing with the crude comments as he buried his cock deeper inside of your raw cunt. The thought of him running up here was terrifying. Not able to hold in the little whimpers and moans that escaped your lips. Joel knew this undoubtedly judging by the tears forming in your ears you couldn't handle that kind of pressure. "Don't worry sweetheart I don't wanna be interrupted."

"Joel please I'm so close." Biting down on your arm with frustration at how close you were wanting nothing more than to feel that warm feeling ignite all over your body.

"Got you right where I want you princess." Mocking you as he dipped down thrusting at an all new angle a loud gasp escaping past your lips. Reaching a hand to grab your neck and pull your head to look up at the ceiling. Grinding deep rotating his hips looking down briefly to see your slickness trailing along his length.

"Takin my cock so well. This cunt was made for me." Speaking confidently as he kept light pressure on your neck proud how easily you were submitting to him. Loving the sounds of your cheeks smacking against his thighs like it was music to his ears.

Joel could sense that you were struggling to release almost like you were fighting it. Reaching his other hand around to your front finding your sensitive clit rubbing fast circles coaxing the orgasm from you. Keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground as he rocked his hot body into yours. Your neck was starting to really ache, but you were so close you were powering through.

Body slumping against the sink hand falling from your neck as your body fell completely numb to your euphoric state. Cunt clenching his cock like a vine as you trembled and shook around him. Both hands held onto your hips as he continued to pump himself swiftly and deep. Not taking long before he was spilling his seed.

"That's a good girl. Such a good fuckin girl for me." Praising as he rubbed his hands up and down your back reaching a hand towards your puffy cunt to feel where you two were connected. Still trying to catch your breath as his finger collected both your juices on his finger.

It was something that snapped in you as he softly touched and caressed your body, and how his eyes looked at your body in admiration. It had you wanting more of him. Wanting to taste more and to feel more. Like the wild animal locked away in the cage was banging against the bars to get out.

"Good thing daddy didn't hear us after all." Joking as he smeared his finger across your mouth looking up to see the milky substance shine on your lips. A devilish smile appearing on your face as you licked it up shamelessly only to make Joel grin widely his cock twitching inside of you. "I see daddy's princess wants some more."

“Well I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t taking care of you.”

#pedro pascal #joel miller #Pedro pascal smut #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller x reader #Pedro pascal blurb #Joel miller blurb #securty Joel miller #Pedro pascal fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal imagines #Joel miller imagines

[elrxiel]

"Bonus chapter ended Elriel!"

But here's the thing - it didn't have to.

If SJM had a change of heart during writing ACOSF or even before and decided that Gwyn and Az will be the final couple, she could have easily simply ignored writing anything about Azriel's feelings towards Elain. She could have not written about stolen glances - she could have written a scene where they have a conversation without any subtext, just a friendly encounter so the readers would get a clear sign - they are just friends, they are not interested in each other in any way. She could have switched the narrative - making Az behave towards any other character the way he behaves with Elain and making Elain not care, not look at him, not practically dying for him to kiss her.

But she did not.

Instead she wrote paragraphs saying Azriel cannot stand the smell of the mating bond between Elain and Lucien (which is alarming on its own, given the fact that he should not be able to smell it in the first place), that this man spent the last year almost sleepless because he keeps thinking about that girl and the gift she picked for him. She wrote Azriel questioning the Cauldron itself and Elain willing to risk it all even tho her mate was sleeping upstairs. SJM said directly with all of these "look, those two WANT each other, those scenes in previous books DID indicate that there is a mutual wanting between them".

Place yourself as an author for a second - would you really spend three books placing hints and scenes foreshadowing a couple only to "end" them in the bonus chapter, which most of the readers won't even know exist? Would you, knowing that you plan for other couples to be an endgame, wrote about things that literally point that those two characters are so into each other they don't give a single fuck about bonds and religion? Would you write another male guessing something only a mate should be able to guess, the same male being the only one noticing the woman is missing and going on a suicidal mission to get her back? Would you write "you came for me"? Would you write a full scene of this woman emerging from the shadows (the literal power of said male), using the blade he let touching only her? Would you write her buying gifts for him but not for any other man?

And finally, if you plan to make those two end up with different characters anyway, would you really write them like that? Az being the person pining for someone for 500 years and being the one knowing for ignoring orders, only to slowly develop feelings towards someone else who wants him back, would suddenly forget about it and move to a new girl in a heartbeat just because somebody said so? Elain being the person who stated blankly "I don't want him" indicating to her mate, being someone who shall wed for love, suddenly deciding "yes, you know what, I don't want this man who showed me nothing but kindness and who was the only one who actually saw and listened, who saved my life and then gave me a weapon to defend myself, I'm gonna be with my mate now, even tho I'm shrinking with discomfort whenever I'm near him". Even if it fits your fantasies, it does not fit the way characters were written. And at the end of the day, it's not the fantasies that matter. It's what has been written and given us to read and see ourselves.

#elriel #pro elriel #azriel x elain #anti e/lucien #anti g/wynriel

[sanguineterrain]

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #superman x you #clark kent x you #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc x you #inbox #blurb

[brucewaynehater101]

Hemlo! Here are some sparkles and hearts for all the delicious posts and answers!! ✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️✨️💕❤️💖✨️ ✨️

I also have ✨️Questions✨️! In Tim being Bruce's Father Figure AU/headcanon, how do you think Tim's 16th birthday will play out? Will Bruce even plan it? And if he does, will this AU's Alfred go with it? How differently do you think Tim will go about tackling Bruce's lesson on paranoia? And how do you think he'll discipline Bruce after all is said and done? (I am sorry for the many questions 😅😅😅)

The sparkles are really cute. Also, don't know if it was on purpose, but urban dictionary says "hemlo" is how dog's pov says hi???

(Also, I love questions and asks so much. I sometimes take a bit to respond [cause I work nights, so my sleep schedule is whenever I can when I don't work], but I genuinely love all of them).

As far as Tim's 16th birthday, fuck. Alright. I guess this AU/hc can get some more angst. It's been too light and funny lately. Why not?

Okay.

~~~

Tim stares at the object that started it all. It's perched innocently on his desk, but the teen wants nothing more than to shatter it into dusty remains.

Bruce, his son that he willing took responsibility of, his son of three years, thought it was fit to cause Tim to have a mental breakdown. Bruce isn't aware of the true nature of their relationship. Bruce thought it was fit to cause rampant paranoia in a child.

Where had Tim gone wrong?

He thought Bruce was getting better.

Were the sticker charts, the car rides for sleep, the persistent checking for injuries, and the forced self care the wrong moves? Was Tim too harsh? Too soft? Where had Tim failed his son so that he thought this was an acceptable and appropriate set of actions? Why did Bruce do this to him?

He doesn't know.

And Alfred. He thought the two of them were on the same page when it came to parenting Bruce. Were the many discussions over tea, the late night baking, the aid around the house, and the chats during gardening for naught? They were supposed to rely on one another, inform the other when Bruce was going too far, and stop the man. Tim had so many fucking conversations with Alfred on permissive parenting and being a bystander. He thought they were in agreeance.

Not only did Alfred fall back to old and wrongful ways, but he was now an active participation in Bruce's emotional abuse and manipulation. Can Tim even trust Alfred to protect Bruce's kids from Bruce? Was Tim just special?

He doesn't know if it is worse for Alfred to target Tim specifically or for the older man to allow such actions against all of Bruce's children. Both thoughts are unbearable.

The man had the audacity to joke about Tim being of age after this clusterfuck, as if Tim hadn't been an adult in a child's body parenting an adult nearly three times his age. As if Tim hadn't aged a decade in the last three years. As if Tim hadn't done enough.

Gods, Tim is tired. He doesn't think reddit can help him out of this either.

Tim brushes a finger against the offending object as his face screws up in overwhelming grief, frustration, and betrayal. The smooth edges of the cube are cold, and his face feels hot.

He won't cry.

Bruce is a bastard, a man-child who criticized Tim for believing in time travel (as if they both hadn't seen it happen before).

It's infuriating and heartbreaking, but it's not the end. Tim can still fix this. He'll be more vigilant this time as he screws the errant pieces of Bruce's morality and judgment back together. He'll study more parenting books, attend more psychology online courses, and find a therapist he can ask parenting questions to anonymously. There's still more Tim can do.

He can still save his son from himself.

There's still time.

Tim pockets the reminder of his failures towards his son as he goes to Bruce.

He won't ask Bruce to apologize.

He can't.

It's Tim's fault, after all.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #bruce wayne #tim is an unreliable narrator in this and it is not his fault #fuck bruce for that birthday incident #thank you for the ask!!!! #tim is a child-man parenting a man-child #dc au #tim acting like bruce's parent

[green-eyedfirework]

"Hands off, Rick," someone shouted from the other end of the table, "Slade wouldn't like you sniffing around his bird."

Dick let the words wash over him.  He gripped the knife a little harder, and focused on his meal.  They were too close.  Too close, and it felt too hot, even though the fire was a little distance away.  He needed to breathe.

"Screw Slade," Rick called back, and Dick suppressed the flinch as the man's arm came around his shoulders.  The grip was inescapable.  "If he doesn't want to make a move, well, we're not going to wait for him to!"  There was a smattering of laughter.  It rang too loud in Dick's head.  "Isn't that right, Your Highness?"

It took only one blink for Dick to twist, a flare of pain traveling up his spine, the knife blade against Rick's throat.  "Let go of me," Dick said, his voice strangely level, "Or I'll slit your throat."

The laughter died awkwardly.  Rick's eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed, the smile dying to something that looked more...searching.  But he made a dramatic show of lifting his hand off, his voice still light.

"Determined for Slade after all," he said loudly, and the chuckles echoed up and down the table, though it sounded oddly flat.  "Don't worry, Your Highness, he won't mind if you've already had some fun."

This time, Dick couldn't hide the flinch, and there was something contemplative in the gazes of the men around him.

Dick turned back to his meal.  He didn't relax his grip on the knife.

~#~

The teasing stopped.  They stopped touching him, and started watching him.  It felt like a tension crackling in the air, a tension in the air, and Dick half-held his breath as he moved like nothing was wrong.

He knew they were waiting.  Turning the corner into the tent where he was supposed to sleep, it shouldn’t have surprised him to see that Slade was already inside.  But it froze him to the spot, a knee-jerk of fear, and he had nowhere to run.

Not that he could run.

Slade merely stared at him, gaze inscrutable, scanning Dick like he could lay him bare with just that one, piercing eye.  Dick, lightheaded and wavering even with the crutch, certainly felt naked under the regard.

“What do you want?” Dick forced the words out, clipped and sharp.  Some part of himself was already curling up, begging no, please, stop, but it was locked away.  He wouldn’t beg.  His dignity was the only thing they hadn’t yet managed to destroy, and Dick refused to lose it too.

“No one in this camp will touch you,” Slade said, his voice level, and Dick felt himself go rigid.  “If any of them hurt you, they know they will answer to me, and my displeasure should you be harmed.”

He knew.  They knew.  Dick had seen it across all their faces, but he didn’t—he wasn’t—he didn’t want to hear what they had to say, he didn’t want to hear what Slade had to say, and especially not when he was still a goddamn prisoner.

“I killed Bane,” Slade said slowly, and this time Dick could recognize the fury beneath the steady tone, “I should have made it slower.”

“Bane didn’t touch me,” Dick snapped back, unable to stop the bite to his tone, “So if you’re here to defend my honor—”

“He hurt you,” Slade said evenly, “Or his men hurt you.  Or someone else.  I can play a guessing game if you’d like, but it won’t change the fact that you were hurt, Dick.”

Dick stayed where he was, cold and almost-shivering, still frozen to the spot.

“It wasn’t your fault, and you—”

“You don’t know what happened.”  His voice was soft, but no less poisonous.  “I don’t need your platitudes, Slade.”  He couldn’t stop the trembling.  “You weren’t there.”

Slade’s expression spasmed for a moment, there and gone before it settled back to its stillness.  “If you require medical attention,” Slade started again, but Dick cut him off.

“I require nothing from my captor.”

There was no flicker in Slade’s expression this time.  “Very well,” he said, still level, “You’re free to change your mind at any point.”

“I don’t—”

“You were raped,” Slade said, and the bluntness of his words shocked the air from Dick’s chest.  He was really lightheaded now, and he had to grab the edge of the stool to slow his collapse when his balance failed him.  Slade didn’t move forward to catch him, nor did he offer any support, but he crouched after Dick, sitting cross-legged as Dick clung to the stool in a painful kneel.

“There are physical wounds in addition to the mental ones,” Slade continued, and Dick didn’t know how he could keep his face so blank.  “I doubt Bane gave you any treatment.  Villain can give you something for the tears, and ensure that infection doesn’t—”

“Stop,” Dick rasped, unable to hear that steady voice, unable to—the memories of pain overlapped, and he ached, inside and out, and he just—couldn’t.

Surprisingly, Slade stopped.

“What do you want?” Dick asked quietly, raw and wounded.  He barely had the strength to keep his pain locked away, and Slade had a way of breaking the locks.

“For you to feel better,” Slade answered, “For you to feel safe.”

“As a hostage in a bandit camp,” Dick almost laughed.

“No one here will hurt you, Dick, ransom or not,” Slade said quietly, and Dick squeezed his eyes shut.  He could feel something inside him begin to splinter.

“And I’m just supposed to—believe you?” Dick’s voice was hoarse and cracking, “Trust the word of an outlaw?”

There was a soft silence.

“Have I ever lied to you, little bird?”

The first sound was too agonized and harsh to be called a sob, but they kept coming, tearing themselves from his chest as his cheeks grew wet, and Dick clutched the stool just to have something for his fingers to grip.

They shuddered through him, all the tears he hadn’t spilled in front of Bane, the sobs he’d refused to surrender to, and yet here he was, crying in front of Slade, in front of the man who held him prisoner, in front of the man who’d promised him safety.

He could hear Slade move, but Dick stayed where he was, kneeling on the ground, letting his anguish carve out of him.  The movements came closer, and before Dick could brace himself—a slap, a punch, a kick—something heavy and dry was draped across his back and wrapped around him.

Slade was careful not to touch.  Not even an accidental brush of fingers.  Dick lifted his head, everything still blurry around him, and saw Slade retreat.  “Do you require anything?” Slade asked when Dick met his gaze, his voice still carefully distant.  “Food?  Water?  Medicine?  More blankets?”

Dick shook his head numbly.  He felt exhausted and drained, as though once the emotions burst through, there was no stopping them until he was washed out.

“Okay.  Just call if you need anything,” Slade said evenly, and straightened, heading for the entrance.

Dick didn’t know what had possessed him.  Why he did it.  But there was a small corner of his mind that screamed at the thought that Slade was leaving, and Dick reached out and grabbed Slade’s leg.

It was stupid.  Slade was keeping him prisoner.  He was just as dangerous as Bane.  He wasn’t a man that could be trusted.

“Dick?”  Slade could rip his leg free from Dick’s grip as easy as breathing, no matter how hard Dick tightened his fingers into the material of his pants.  Dick didn’t answer him.  Couldn’t answer him.

Slade tugged his leg free, and Dick let his hand fall.  The hollows inside him stretched.  Everything was a wash of tears, and his heart felt like it was fracturing into pieces.

Slade took a seat next to him, close enough to brush the edge of the blanket, but facing away.  Dick was thankful for that, he didn’t think he could handle the pressure of Slade’s searing gaze, and that all-seeing blue eye, and something swelled in his throat as he tried to swallow.

No.  No more tears.  He had to—had to stop crying, and regain his composure and just—he had to stop.  He couldn’t afford weakness.  It had already cost him too much.

Slade didn’t say a word.  Just stayed in place, his breathing low and steady, hands crossed in his lap, looking away from Dick.  Didn’t make a single sound as Dick shifted in place to take the weight off his knees, and leaned farther than he had to—to rest his forehead against Slade’s shoulder.

Slade just adjusted to bear Dick’s weight better, and didn’t say anything as Dick’s tears soaked his shirt, constant and unending.

#my snippets #sladick #royalty/bandit au #past noncon #protective slade

[mhsdatgo]

The Helaemonds/Helaegons need to calm down.

Don't get me wrong, it's always refreshing to see some people fill in the gaps of a basically untold relationship such as the one between the green kids in general, but this goes beyond basic obsessive shippy discourse. Leave this poor girl alone. Why's there an obsession with having her be romantically paired with her brothers, one worse than the other?

I understand the show has basically shown so little of her to the point where we didn’t even have a coronation for her on screen, so therefore you can self insert through her and have fun with headcanons regarding Aegon and Aemond. Really, I'm not faulting their girlies, you can be head over heels for whatever actor in character you want (unless you put them on pedestals and start acting like they did nothing wrong and pounce on whoever contests them, THEN we have a problem) but I assure you, Helaena would barely want anything to do with either of them.

Aegon is a sex pest turned sex offender, a drunkard and a neglectful father and husband at best. Her infamous toast in ep.8 has us believing that he cannot for the life of him interact with her unless he's horny drunk or that he forces himself on her at worst.* He was ready to leave them all in ep.9 before he was caught. Even the book is subtle about their relationship: all we know of them is that they sleep in shared chambers, that she was someone important and reliable in Aegon's council before B&C, and that he named her and Alicent the true Queens of his reign.

*(⚠️TW: PERSONAL OPINION⚠️ I'm not saying this last one isn't a possibility but it's sill outrageous for the way people speak about Helaena in defence of this "claim". No, she wouldn't joke about her own r*pe in front of the whole table full of people she doesn't know and right beside her abuser, and despite the hour-long metas I've read about how she's basically "too sheltered" to know what r*pe even means, I assure you she's a high-functioning autistic, not 5 years old. She can understand it perfectly.)

Helaemond is a pure show invention, I honestly wasn't expecting this many people to go up this kind of train. They barely interact, and most of the time it's Aemond saying he'd "perform his duty" should Helaena ever be wed to him, or that stare in ep.9 when he enters her chambers toiling after Alicent. It's, as always, the Aemond girlies who think poor Helaena would live her best life with Aemond, or that they are already romantically involved behind the scenes. The amount of "if one possesses a thing, the other will take it away" edits from people that are FULLY CONVINCED "the thing" is Helaena and that "the one" and "the other" are Aemond and Aegon respectively is honestly concerning.

Fics that are all about Aegon doing the worst and unspeakable things to her so "Aemond can come and save her" are y'all okay? Out of all people, HE has to save her?

Babes, I'm sorry to break your bubble, but this isn't Aegon IV/Naerys/Aemon on steroids. Aemond didn't give two shits about Helaena. No, he wasn't jealous when Jace came to ask her to dance, he just wanted to stir some shit. If we talk about the books, he didn't fucking hesitate to leave King's Landing, his sister, his mother and whatever he was doing for the Riverlands the second he heard that Daemon was there. And he brought the only means of defence they had with him. If he knew how important Vhagar was for the city's defence, he's evil, if he didn't realize it, he's dumb as fuck. Which one is it, Aemond girlies?

People beat each other to the curb about Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor's paternity like it's the Wars of The Roses. They put Helaena and Alys against the other like they have personal beef with one of them.

Stop mentioning this sweetheart only when it's about praising or hating one of her brothers. No, it's not the only option you have because she's underdeveloped as a character. There's actually another one.

LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #helaena targaryen #pro helaena targaryen #helaena deserved better #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #anti helaemond #anti helaegon

[yanderes-galore]

HI- I know I'm super late- But I hoping I could get this in- I was hoping for Y!Kugo Sakamata from MHA, romantic Hc's and if it's too late please go head and ignore this

It's been a bit since I've seen MHA and I don't recall Gang Orca having a big role plot-wise. Despite this, I'll try my best to write him using the personality I found on the wiki. I hope you like the HCs I came up with regardless, even if they aren't intense.

Yandere! Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Animalistic behavior, Animal-like courting, Violence, Stalking, Brief blood mention, Dubious relationship

According to what I've read, Kugo is a calm and focused Pro Hero.

He's friendly and good towards his fellow Pro Heroes.

Although when he was pretending to be a villain, he can put on a cruel and ruthless persona to fit the role.

He likes to see students improve in UA and learn from their own mistakes.

He takes teaching seriously.

Under the intimidating appearance, Kugo is actually quite soft.

He would be this way with his beloved, too.

I like to think due to his quirk he displays orca-like courting with his obsession, even if he doesn't mean it.

I'm talking like... he makes small vocalizations towards you when he holds you and stuff like that.

Kugo may be possessive with you, too.

I actually imagine most heroes who have animal quirks act like that animal at times.

In terms of how you could've met Kugo, maybe you're a new Pro-Hero or are working alongside him in some way.

His obsession starts as just him wanting to watch over you and protect you as a fellow ally.

It's then his feelings would develop once he realizes he isn't staying professional.

For example, when around you he makes small clicking sounds when talking to you.

Or when you're talking with someone else, especially someone you may have an interest in, he seems oddly moody or aggressive.

Others are a bit concerned about it but Kugo does his best to brush it off.

While he has the ability to paralyze his enemies, I don't imagine he'll use such an ability on you.

That or if he did, it would be nearly unheard of.

He cares too much for his partner to harm them.

Kugo is durable, strong, and fast.

If I remember correctly, he also uses sidekicks to his advantage.

If he was worried about you, he'd probably send you a few to watch over you.

That would also be his only way of stalking you since I imagine he can be busy.

I like the idea that he's soft with you despite his intimidating nature since he is fond of being a teacher for kids.

He'd never mean to scare you on purpose.

In fact, due to being a Pro Hero, I doubt he'd fatally harm anyone unless he had to for your safety.

Even then he'll reassure you that you're safe and tell you he had to in order to protect you.

If you were already in a relationship, Kugo keeps you in his home.

He likes you safe and often uses that as an excuse.

In reality he may just like you away from prying eyes.

Talking more about orca characteristics, when he holds you close and you're alone he definitely makes noises.

If he's flirting with you or showing affection, he'd make vocalizations towards and love it if you touch around his eyes or mouth.

Not going to lie, a possessive and protective yandere fits for him.

If you say you want to go outside and continue your work, he turns it down.

If you wanted to teach young heroes he may relent though.

He'd adore you if you were good with kids.

If you ever got hurt, Kugo would go ballistic.

He may not even care who else gets hurt as long as it means he can protect you.

At the peak of his obsession, you may be isolated and under watch by your "partner".

Doesn't matter if you were dating prior to this or not, you'll be in his home where you belong.

He tells you not to worry... that he'll protect you no matter what... you should only rely on him as your partner...

Just listen to him and nothing will hurt you in this cruel world, he'll guarantee that even if it means there's blood on his hands.

#yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere gang orca #yandere kugo sakamata

[final-script]

Becoming a Daddy | Christian Pulisic

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

Sumary: Where you see Christian become a father.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!.There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later). Mentions of pregnancy.Mention of Birth , Labor.

Gif: brasiliangp

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

A part of you believed that there was no way you could fall in love with him anymore.

But you couldn't be more wrong.

As the months went by and you watched him become a father, you could see it.

(...)

From the moment he found out that a little life was forming in your womb, the care began.

During the 9 months of pregnancy and including the day your guy came into the world he was nothing but the perfect man/husband.

Whenever he wasn't away for a game or training, he stayed by your side at all times.

Attentive to any needs you might have.

And don't get me wrong, you loved how attentive he was but there were times when you had to put a brake.

(...)

Y/N- my love please stop, I can do it myself, nothing will happen to me. 

Ch- I only care about you.

Y/N- I know and understand it but... I want to do what I can as long as our little guy here lets me do it.     Caressing the small lump that was forming.

Ch- I'm sorry if I'm being a bit burdensome.

Y/N- you don't have to apologize, believe me I understand, but there are still a lot of things I can do, so for the time being, Daddy, I should be saving your energy.

Ch-daddy will save energy, as long as Mommy doesn't call him that that again, I don't want our son to witness how his parents behave.

(...)

Months went by and even though Christian hadn't been "saving" energy and even though you caught his attention on several occasions, you could say that you enjoyed every moment.

It made you value the time I was at home and it wasn't for some competition.

(...)

Luckily for our baby's day of birth, Christian was home.

To your surprise, he managed to stay calm.

When I was in your room and the contractions were not very strong but if you continue, I immediately take you to the bathroom and help you get ready.

Before you know it, you're on your way to the hospital, in the hospital, and ready to give birth.

At all times Christian was by your side.

Finally your little one came into this world.

(...)

Ch- you made it my love, our little one is finally with us.

Y/N- we made it, we were both a part of this, thank you for being there for us.

We both looked at our baby with tears of joy.

After 9 long months he was finally with us.

Ch- he's perfect.   Gently caressing her little cheek.

Y/N- is our son, what were you waiting for!

It wasn't because we were his parents, but our little boy is beautiful and if when he grows up he's just like his dad, I think there will be problems.

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

ANOTHERS

FOOTBALL MASTERLIST

Knowing Family - Julian Alvarez x Reader

#christian pulisic #ac milan #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic one shot #football x reader #football one shot #football fanfic #football imagine #footballer imagine

[pinkandpurple360]

taking a count of the episodes, Stolas is likely to appear in 8/12 of them - literally two third of the entire season. meanwhile the other members of IMP have been thrown to the wayside to make room (and the show potentially intends to introduce yet more Goetias...)

I've got a theory about the themes of s1 and s2 and tbh I think it's fairly supported by the text. so the theory is basically this:

Season 1 is the Blitzo season. Season 2 is the Stolas season

but when you compare the two, it's...telling

Season 1 - basically a whistle stop tour of most of the people Blitzo has hurt in the past (Fizz, Verosika) and the ways in which he is on track to mess up his current relationships in his new life if he doesn't change (pushing boundaries with his employees by stalking M&M, needing to give Loona some space to grow up, being a liability to his own business through his lack of professionalism and impulsiveness).

In the effectively two part finale of e6&7 (not counting 8, it does little to tell us stuff we don't already know) it is made brutally clear that Blitzo desperately wants love and intimacy but doesn't know how to get there because he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with people. He ends the episode crying on the couch while knowing that despite having people in his new life, he's still alone and will remain so if nothing changes

Season 2 - opens on a flashback to Stolas as a child where it's revealed the woman he cheated on was an evil monster since birth and only he was the victim in the arranged marriage scenario. He was the only victim when he was forced to have a child he didn't want and the only victim when he kept the marriage going despite it not working for anyone involved. He coerced Blitzo into a sexual arrangement in season 1, but Stolas was the real victim there because...um...Blitzo seduced him for the book and took it after a one night stand, even though sex with Blitzo was something Stolas clearly wanted but didn't have the guts to admit (and he was also the first one to make it sexual, claiming Blitzo came to ravish him for no logical reason whatsoever after shutting them in a room together) and anyone with a brain should be able to figure out that if someone robs you after a one night stand then ghosts you, they aren't actually into you. Sings about how what's between them is a 'lie' despite Stolas initiating it and deluding himself the whole time.

From then on nothing is his fault. He refuses to take any responsibility for his daughter running away and him somehow being unable to find her because he didn't memorize his own spells (he gets out half an apology for forgetting Astaroth's tears before the writing forces Via to let him off the hook). Sexualizes Blitzo some more after being told not to, right when Blitzo could have used some genuine support and comfort.

Spends the rest of the season having people come to his defense on his behalf and having his history with Blitzo being rewritten to include sweet offscreen phonecalls. Decides his cheating didn't matter because Stella never loved him - never mind that the family name is all she's got since she isn't royalty like him, and his adultery is making a joke out of her. Doesn't actually apologize for Ozzie's. Goes to Ozzie for a crystal then acts weirdly shy and says 'no, never that!' when Ozzie talks about lust despite lust being the defining feature of his relationship with Blitzo even into s2.

Is likely to spend the rest of the season shaming Blitzo for not loving him, barely doing anything to address Blitzo's problems with him...and then will promptly be rewarded with Blitzo's love, either because Blitzo gets jelaous when the plot hands him a new boyfriend or because Blitzo decides Stella abusing Stolas means he's a good person, actually

like when you lay it all out it's kind of impressive.

Season 1 is a mostly effective deep dive into why the main character is the way he is, why it's hurting him and an indictment on the current way he lives and behaves

Season 2 is non stop coddling of Stolas and hitting the nail of the viewers' memory of season 1 with the constant hammer of Nothing is Ever Stolas' Fault and You're Wrong if You Think Otherwise, We Called Striker a Bigot to Prove It

what's even more galling is that at least part of Blitzo's behavior is due to being raised in poverty by an abusive father who taught him stealing to get ahead was the right thing to do. part of the chip on his shoulder now is due to people underestimating imps (they don't run businesses often, according to Striker, and most other city imps we see are working low paid service jobs) and thinking they can treat them however they want. but the show will still attempt to frame Blitzo as being in the wrong when he acts out and have characters hold him to task, even if the writing is half-assed about it

meanwhile Stolas is a literal prince but he apparently can't bear the minimum amount of pushback from Blitzo. he's had the power to treat imps like objects his whole life but the show circa season 2 won't permit him to do anything but the minimum amount of introspection about it

God it’s enraging the more I read through this, and you can really tell rich people wrote it. Season one was fantastic, season two shat all over it because that one Erin frost fanart was eaten up like crack and made canon. (Sorry frost it’s not your fault)

Don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to F you ok you make that really clear all the time

Is the best line in the show.

Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince

Is the worst. You could replace prince with “rich” “white” “a man”

Like holy shit you have an abrasive but endearing guy with friends in a tense precarious connection, but they fucking love him and he loves them despite his worsening quirks, with him honestly being the second most toxic one after Loona. Someone who’s been sexually objectified his whole life and just needs respect, affection, open communication, and gentle reassurance, but someone who can also keep his ego in check. Not someone who puts their needs over his and hates when he has feelings that aren’t convenient. Hears him out when he breaks down doesn’t shove him away.

Like hmm I dunno I’m just spit ballin here

“Why didn’t you try to tell me any of this?”

“Misunderstanding or no, it’s hard to just forgive you”

“What do you want, a medal?”

“You’re pretty good at this action hero bullshit”

“He earned it (love)”

Sorry I could talk about them for hours…they’re just so good together it hurts. Even as kids they bounced off each other but fizz kept him in check.

What he doesn’t need is mind games, public humiliation, a glorified martyr, somebody who demands constant favours and takes and takes until there’s nothing to give. And only reaffirms to him how much of a nothing he is when he has no right to do so. You aren’t owed a relationship. That’s monstrous. Stolas is literally an incel.

#helluva boss critical #stolitz critical #creators pet

[modernsuperhero]

I've never explained my Red Core concept to literally anyone except my partner Peggy but basically I came up with it while Last Life was still ongoing, prior to anyone knowing about Martyn's whole Watcher lore, as like a theory/headcanon as to what the life series really was. Ironically the Watchers were still involved.

The idea is that the red lives are the buried, rawest parts of a person. It's what they are when their outer layers are worn down to the core, a candle shaved down just to the wick. Desperate, lonely, and violent.

The concept continued saying Grian, upon becoming a Watcher, (specifically, the RED Watcher) came in tune with every part of himself - including his Red Core. And that Grian believes he's better off for it! That this is the reason he always seems to be "a red life with a green name" - he, unlike the rest, is always embracing his Red Core.

Grian specifically made the games because he wants his friends to be able to embrace their Red Cores too. Worlds like Hermitcraft with infinite respawns don't allow that desperate, lonely, violent part out - they bury it under the security of conditional immortality.

From Grian's perspective, red lives are themselves. They’re nothing but themselves, the rawest form. Green lives? Yellow lives? They have layers. They could be hiding something. Why would you trust them? You always know what red lives are after, what their motivations are. Best to only trust red lives. Best to make as many red lives as possible.

[ID in alt.]

The question of course is, is the Red Core what is burdening to a player, or are the external layers what is burdening them? Which part is truly the person themselves - the layers or the core? (Of course the true answer is both but in this interpretation, that's a delicate balance even Grian hasn't figured out.)

In the original Red Core AU, Grian isn't exactly a good guy, but he's not trying to be a bad guy either.

Anyway, I've used the concept of Red Cores - especially in scenarios where the Red Cores for one way or another get separated or torn out of the rest of them - for COUNTLESS AUs in the years since so I figured if I'm gonna start posting my AUs here I might as well provide some context for this.

#third life smp #trafficblr #grian #watcher grian #last life smp #traffic life smp #red core au #traffic life series #life series

[importantchaosgiver]

Where Loyalties Lie:

To The King

Summary: (Y/N) can't stay hidden for long. And when she is taken to the king, she gets an unexpected turn of events...

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, mentions of nudity

******

Two days. Baelon, Aemon and the guards hadn't found (Y/N) for two days. They had asked and most did say they've seen a girl of her description, but most didn't know about her or just saw her in passing. This girl was smart and quick. Aemon admired the child for her skill at such a young age. Being able to hide from a king's order wasn't something most people could do, especially when in the heart of the city. Baelon then went to a fruit stall. "Have you seen a young girl around this tall with (h/c) hair by any chance?" Baelon asked for the umpteenth time that day. He was quickly growing tired of searching, but Jaehaerys did ask of it. "Oh, yes. I do, my prince. She's the young lass who helps us set up from time to time," the man said. "Yes, she a lovely little girl," the woman added. Baelon perked up as Aemon walked over. "What's her name?" Aemon queried, finally glad they were getting somewhere. "Oh, I am sorry, my prince. That isn't something we know. But you can find her mother on the Street of Silk. The woman you'll need to look for is (M/N)," the woman explained. "She's a whore's daughter?" Baelon muttered to Aemon as they gave thanks to the vendors and began walking. "And a bastard no doubt. This girl gets more and more intriguing," Aemon said quietly in return.

When they came to the Street of Silk and to the brothels, it was noticeably more quiet during the day than how it was at night. So, they went from building to building, having to endure the working ladies in skimpy dresses or nothing at all. Until, finally, they got somewhere. "If you're looking for (M/N) go to the farthest room down that corridor," a woman explained, giving the two princes sultry looks, only wearing a mesh skirt. They nodded and began walking in the given direction, avoiding the people enjoying their time. When they got to said door, it was noticeably more isolated as they entered without knocking. The woman quickly stood up, looking at them as she realised she was in the presence of Targaryen royalty. "(M/N)?" Aemon asked. "Yeah. How can I help you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, wearing a sheer shift. "We're not looking for some time. We are looking for whom we've been told is your daughter," Aemon said. That got (M/N)'s attention quickly. "What's she done?" she whispered. "Nothing wrong. Although, the king is asking she be brought forth," Baelon said, eyeing her up and down. "Since when did whores care about their children?" he asked. (M/N) quickly put on some more modest clothing. "She's a child. She doesn't deserve to know my occupation. All she knows is that she's a bastard. But she doesn't let that stop her," she said firmly. "Aye," Baelon muttered. When they left, a couple of guards followed as (M/N) lead them out of the Street of Silk.

When they came to a small house, they went inside. There was (Y/N) holding a book with an elderly man pointing at words. They stopped and looked up. (Y/N) gulped upon seeing the princes. She had been found. "(Y/N), the princes would like to talk to you," (M/N) said gently. "Please, don't run. I would not like to repeat the other day," Aemon said calmly, seeing her stand up. "The king would like to see you, lass," Baelon said, bending down to her height. "I honestly meant no harm," (Y/N) whispered meekly. "I know. Now, come along, child," he said, the guards stepping forward. Her mother watched in worry as (Y/N) was lead from her home, two guards either side of her, a hand each on her shoulder just in case she decided to run.

She felt her stomach churn in anxiety, her throat tighten as it became difficult to swallow. She wrung her hands nervously as she was walked to the gates and into the Red Keep. It was even bigger closer up. She was lead through many confusing twists and turns until she was lead to two large doors. They opened and (Y/N) felt like her legs were about to give way. The entire court was there. The princes went in as the guards gently walked her inside. The men and women of court whispered and muttered. This girl saved Prince Viserys? This bastard, grubby common girl? When the guards stopped, she stopped and lifted her gaze. Her eyes found King Jaehaerys on the famed Iron Throne. It looked even more intimidating now that she stood before it. It's many blades forged by dragonfire and the blades of Aegon the Conqueror's enemies. She had seen paintings of the throne, but it didn't prepare her to be stood before it.

Jaehaerys recognised (Y/N) from the brief time he saw her in the Dragonpit. He stood up from the throne and walked down to stand in front of her. The guards let go of her shoulders and stepped back. (Y/N) gave a curtsy in respect of the king who gazed down at her with kindness. "You saved my grandson, little one. I thank you," he said gently. "I-I... there is no need to thank me. I only did what I thought was right. I only meant to help and protect," she whispered. Almost so quiet, no one heard it. It made Jaehaerys chuckle softly as her bent down to her height. "You are a shy one. But, I saw a pure courage in your eyes. Courage and bravery I have not seen in years, little one. What's your name?" Jaehaerys asked softly. "(Y/N) Waters, your grace," she muttered. "Born out of wedlock," he whispered. Baelon muttered into his ear about her mother too. Jaehaerys nodded in understanding. Then, he gently took (Y/N)'s hand. She lifted her head in shock and Jaehaerys managed to see her eyes and see into her soul. And he could tell, her heart was pure. Despite the scrutiny she would face as a bastard child, her heart was true and pure, untainted. He saw the truth in her eyes of (e/c) and knew she was something rare. He then thought back to a dream he had as a young man.

He dreamt of a woman with (h/c) hair wearing a white cloak, bearing the sigil of House Targaryen, holding a sword of Valyrian steel. The woman he dreamt of had been stood on the walls to the city, her sword soaked in blood, a cut along her face. He remembered how the sun shone behind her as if the gods wanted it. Jaehaerys called this dream, the White Saviour. Because his dream predicted that a warrior would protect the realm. And the courage, truth and purity he saw in the eyes of the woman in his dream was the same as what he saw in this child.

Jaehaerys straightened up and looked at the court. "I have decided that (Y/N) Waters shall be honoured for saving my grandson. It is my wish, my will and my order that she is to be trained in the ways of a knight," he announced. Everyone gasped. Even (Y/N) was stunned. She becoming a knight?! Trained as one?! But, she was a girl! All around the court, people had different reactions. Baelon and Aemon was surprised, but actually thought it made some form of sense, Viserys was shocked, Daemon found it hilarious that a girl would become a knight and -ultimately- fail, Jocelyn and Rhaenys felt pride that a girl could have the opportunity to prove the norm wrong and somewhere, in the corner of the throne room, Otto Hightower narrowed his eyes at the girl. This wasn't coincidental. Jaehaerys knew something they all didn't. It was clear in the Old King's eyes. That twinkle... something he knew would affect the realm for all eternity...

******

Okay, I'll admit, I've been sitting on this idea for a while. So I don't know how many regular updates there will be, but I'm really enjoying writing this. I hope you enjoy it too.

#alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #viserys x reader #fantasy #westeros #king jaehaerys #baelon targaryen #aemond targaryen #jocelyn baratheon #rhaenys targaryen #asoiaf

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Full Kook - Part 1

A Protective/Sweet/Obsessive/Possessive!Rafe&JJ Fanfic

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Alcohol, Language, SA, Abuse, Sex. Anything I missed Lmk.

Word count: 1765

Summary of Part 1: Introduction of the main three characters, told by the one and only JJ Maybank.

JJ's Pov:

Bella Elizabeth Brooks.

The Princess of Kildare. With a heart of gold and the face of an angel. The girl everyone wants to be or be with. And the only person to disagree with that.. herself.

Bella grew up on The Cut with no mum, a father but no dad, and barely any friends. Despite the idolisation, everyone has always avoided her, and that's for one reason and one reason alone - Thomas Brooks.

The man who created the island's untouchable sweetheart.

There's reasons for it, that only the Pogue's side of the island understand. Whereas, for Figure Eight? Let's just say Tom has a good friend who keeps his status well-worded.

Don't get me wrong, Tom is THE most respected man in the OBX; works for everyone, always knows how to put smiles on their faces, and never has a bad thing to say about anything or anyone.

Well, that all goes out the window when it comes to Bella. I mean who wouldn't throw that all away if they had a daughter like her? But it definitely all changed when the whole fiasco with her mum came out last year. (14 years prior her mum passed. Her dad.. I'll save that for later). But it completely ruined everything for the both of them; everyone stopped wanting Thomas to take their jobs meaning they were losing a lot of money, and Thomas didn't want Bella having anything to do with anyone, as they all started spreading rumours about her, so he pulled her out of school.

Luckily the news only went around The Cut. So, ever since last Summer, Bella and Tom have been working up on the North side, taking jobs from anywhere they can like the Island Club or even just small things like mowing people's lawns. To be fair if I was getting paid that much, l'd do anything for them too. It helps that their family friend is only THE richest man on the island, so it makes surviving that little bit easier.

The Brooks had to start over from rock bottom, again, but they've managed to get themselves back to where they were. Everyone has started to move on from the situation, but now it was Thomas' turn. Which leads me back to why Bella doesn't like her life, despite having almost everything.

Her parents are Kooks, grew up on Figure Eight, best friends with Ward and Mary Cameron (before she left). Tom and Ward were inseparable since the day they met in Middle School, then meeting Mary and Elizabeth (Bella's mum) in High School, as they were cheerleaders for their football games.

However, Thomas suffered with mental illness since he was a little boy, and it slowly grew worse over the years. It meant that taking care of himself was bad enough, so being in a relationship with Eli would be extremely difficult. But, Elizabeth and Ward were what he needed as a distraction from everything else, so he stayed.

Taking us to 17 years ago (7 years later), when Eli found out she was pregnant and began to focus on that instead, something clicked in Tom's head. Almost like flipping a switch. Eli wasn't enough to make his thoughts go away anymore and Ward was now busy with Cameron Development so he turned to alcohol as a last resort. He wanted to move to The Cut to see if starting over would help him to get better but in-fact it did the opposite.

Around when Bella was 2, Eli and Thomas got into a huge argument over his drinking problem and how it was affecting their daughter’s life. One thing led to another and.. (I think you can piece it all together by now.)

The problem was, Tom is the sweetest man to exist, but when he lashes out he's a completely different person, even to himself. Afterwards, he doesn't remember a thing as if it was someone else inside his body. So him and Bella thought nothing of it; ignoring whenever he had an ‘episode’ (what they started to call it as he began to switch up more often and had no recollection of it after).

When Ward found out, he realised how distant he'd been; bailed Tom out and sent him to rehab.

This is where I come in.

At the time, Thomas, Ward, Mike, Bobby, and my dad, Luke, were all friends. They all were aware of Tom's mental health but never knew what happened that night (other than Ward) and they made sure to keep it that way.

Bella stayed with me and my dad for about two weeks before Thomas gave up on rehab. He believed that as long as he had Bella and he stopped drinking, he'd be okay. Ward didn't want to admit it, but he didn't trust Tom with his own daughter, especially when he was still grieving, so all of his friends would be over every night to 'check up on him'; they'd gamble, watch football, spend time with me and Bella (and an occasional Sarah and Rafe if Mary was busy).

Whatever it took to distract Thomas from his own mind.

Bella grew up surrounded by people; as we grew older and went to school, meeting new people was on the top of our list. Because of my dad, I practically lived at the Brooks house, so when Bella and Tom started going to Tannyhill for the weekends, I had to fill in the time. That's when I met John B. Then Kiara, then Pope. Bella, on the other hand, wasn't good at making friends, her dad was very picky with who she could surround herself with so she settled for me, Rafe and Sarah. The people he knew.

Rafe and Sarah began to visit the Brooks with Ward and so, even though I was quite sceptical about the whole ‘Kooks befriending Pogues thing’, I had no choice but to do so. The Camerons are the only reason, me, Bella and Tom have a good life so tolerating them is my way of thanking them.

Sarah ditched Bella for Kiara during High School before ditching Kie aswell (I don't know what happened, don't ask, the look I get when I ask is like I just murdered a whole family of turtles). This led the visitings to stop however, and they only saw each other once a week. The weekend stays were cut to a Friday dinner at most and so Bella and Rafe grew apart.

Bella was left with me and her dad. And then because of the whole information outbreak last year, she lost everything else. Thomas has worked his ass off to give her everything he can and she appreciates every part of it. She always tells him that she'd be happy living in a cardboard box as long as she had me and him, but it never stopped him from trying to give her the world.

But trust me, she meant it.

Anywho. The good news after that shitshow of a trauma dump that doesn't actually belong to me but to my gorgeous best friend, is that because of Bella and her dad working at the Island Club so much, her and Rafe reunited and are now as close as ever.

Gross, gag me..

Joking I can't say that.

He's sat right beside me smoking a J with me whilst Bella's asleep on the other side of the L -shaped couch.

Me. Rafe. Bella.

The ‘Famous Trio’ of Kildare Island. I'm not going into another lecture but let me just say that we are the most well known people in the OBX right now. Rafe's the heartthrob of the Kooks, me? I'm the Pogues equivalent of course, and Bella's the beauty that came from the beast (Her dad, get it? No? Okay..) and we're all somehow friends.

Everyone on the island thinks we’re this weird throuple because of how close we all are to one another but we're actually so far from it.

Okay that was a lie.. to Bella there's absolutely nothing between us. But me and Rafe? GOD we fawn over Bella whenever we get the chance. And what makes it even harder to ignore is the fact that we know it'll never happen.

It's not that we want to sleep with her or anything, it's actually quite the opposite. We love that she likes us outside of that. That's what gets us the most, (other than the way she looks but that's a given), that she cares about us. And even through everything she'd never leave.

Bella Brooks is for life. And me and Rafe are never ever letting her go. That's a promise.

"Hm look.." Rafe lifts his phone to meet my eyes with the proudest grin on his face, a picture of Bella taking up the screen. It was a photo he took of her earlier today at the club whilst she was beating Topper at golf. Rafe taught her and she was quick to learn; he enjoys watching Topper's expressions when he loses to a 'beginner' when in reality she gets private lessons.

I watch the picture, as if it were a video waiting to load. My eyes widen, not being able to fix on only one area.

"Right..?" He chuckles, eyeing the photo himself, tracing every inch of it. Bella bent over, ass hanging out her shorts, and chest slightly exposed over her crop top as her arm is swung to hit the ball. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, held secure in one of Rafe's hats, showing off her whole face.

His eyes glare at me, eyebrows furrowed, now impatiently waiting for a response wondering if he should've shared the photo with me at all. "Send it to me.." I mumble, taking a glance at the Bella laying under a blanket across from us.

I always feel guilty about the way we ogle at her, like some toy we can play with, but we simply just think she's the most beautiful girl we've laid our eyes on. We don’t mean anything by it we just like to let her know.

He laughs passing me the joint, "Knew we were friends for a reason.."

Jealousy doesn't exist between me and Rafe; we know that Bella wouldn't choose between us and she loves us both equally so we have no reason for there to be any tension. Although I can't lie, I do get a little pissed when I see the way he looks at her. Because I know he sees her differently to me, he sees a sparkle somewhere in her that I haven't yet found and he's digging further for it with every interaction. I also know that he has a better chance with her, as me and Bella grew up together, meaning if we ever tried dating it would ruin everything we've worked for.

And Rafe knows that..

Alternative intro to my other one (pinned)

Let me know which you’d prefer to read more of x

Thank you for reading ❤️

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj obx #rafe obx #jj outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx #outer banks #drew starkey #jj imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #oc #rafe x oc #jj x oc #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks jj #rafe fanfiction #jj fanfiction #rafe fic #jj fic

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

By the time it’s through, Harry is a panting victorious mess.

He swears some Gryffindors get dumber by the year. They were pulling the same stunt at every start of the term. I mean, Harry scoffs and thinks to himself, they couldn’t even have been bothered to pick a different corridor. It astounds Harry how persistent their hatred of Slytherins—of him especially, remains even after all these years.

Like, so what? He can talk to a few snakes, and he’s alright at quidditch, and, yeah, he defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was a baby and then sorted Slytherin at eleven. It’s not like anyone told him it was some cultural taboo to accidentally end a war and sort into the mass murderer’s Hogwarts House.

Honestly, Harry has a sneaking suspicion that even if someone had told him, he’d of ended up in a similar, if not worse, situation. So he’ll take the yearly Gryffindor smackdown any day.

Surveying his handiwork, Harry gives a pleased nod to nothing in particular. These six definitely need the medi-wing, but, seeing as Harry was slighted from the Head Boy position and finishing off his final year at Hogwarts as a mere seventh-year prefect, he figures this can slip under his radar. Of course, it’s not good to slack on the first week back, and usually Harry frowns at anything of the sort, but six to one is his new personal best. So, this little lapse in duty can be a small treat for a job well done.

The pep to his step and smile on his face certainly agree with Harry’s decision as he does an about-face and walks a few paces only to come toe to toe with their latest Defence professor.

Shite.

Harry’s face shutters and he freezes in place. There’s no way he can talk his way out of this. But, more importantly, what the hell is he going to do about a bloody witness.

In the haze of panic, Harry has enough sense to correct his posture quickly. He straightens up, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him, and speaks politely, if a little blandly, “Professor Riddle.” Harry bows his head in what he hopes comes across as a sign of respect and not the blatant attempt to hide his wince that it is. How could he have been so careless?

Professor Tom Riddle is the hot new thing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not only for the ne’er-do-well gossip mongrels but also just- generally. He’s incredibly attractive and incredibly unknown. Sure, he has more than enough qualifications for the position, but no one has any useful information on the man other than the fact that he might have been a Slytherin in another life. And that’s only because he’s got a pet snake slithering about, allegedly.

All of that to say: Harry has no idea how his new professor will react to this. But it’s vital that he keeps his head down this year; nothing can come between him and freedom from the Dursleys. Especially not a little roughhousing with a few morons. If Professor Riddle punishes him with a detention or eight, it will be a low blow but bearable— and if he brings what Harry’s done to the Headmaster…

Harry is certain expulsion will be considered with a heavy hand. Headmaster Dumbledore did not like Harry one bit.

“Harry Potter,” Professor Riddle’s voice is deep and just on the edge of lilting. It’s a nice voice, Harry’s shocked to acknowledge. His lessons will be a huge step up from Snape’s temporary claim of the role. Thank the gods they forced him back to Potions. Though, Slughorn’s lessons and overall attitude were pleasant while they lasted.

They both stood without saying another word in tense silence. Well, tense for Harry. He’s not too sure what’s rattling around in Professor Riddle’s head that’s keeping him so quiet.

Actually, Harry couldn’t imagine being on the other end of this scenario. Like, what would he do if he’d come upon some kid, who by almost all accounts was the supposed saviour of the wizarding world, beating the shite out of six Gryffindor students? Harry doesn’t think he’d handle it as well as Professor Riddle seems to be. In fact, maybe they should both take a cue from Fake-Professor-Harry and just pretend this never happened.

Harry’s neck is just starting to strain from its lock level with the floor when Professor Riddle speaks, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

His head snaps up at the pleasant, almost jolly tone. Professor Riddle is staring out into the courtyard, eyes glued to something far, far in the distance. Completely ignoring the six injured students mere metres away.

Dumbfounded, Harry replies, “It’s evening.” And it is evening. Harry tries to look out at whatever has Professor Riddle’s steadfast attention and can’t pinpoint a damn thing. It’s dark as all hell out there. Finally, in the awkward pause, Harry finds the wherewithal to look back and tack on a belated, “Professor.”

Professor Riddle’s eyes slip to Harry’s face, but his head remains still, and Harry comes to the startling realisation that this is meant to be an act. Anyone passing by, or any nosey portraits, would still believe him enchanted by the courtyard and not confronting a rogue student.

“I know you’re socially inept, Mr Potter. But you are not stupid.”

And with that charming, hissed comment, Harry turns about-face once again to also fake watch the courtyard. “Why yes, sir. Very lovely.”

“It seems,” Professor Riddle starts up again, “in my vacant-minded appreciation for this beautiful day, I have forgotten some paperwork in my office. Could you spare a moment to accompany me?” Harry hears the loud and clear statement as what it is: a demand.

“Of course, sir. I happen to be returning to the common room and going that direction regardless.” Harry is oddly proud of the truth of this. He is technically done with his prefect rounds now, anyhow.

“Very good. Come along.”

The walk to Professor Riddle’s office is long. It’s made longer by their run-in with a few of the Hogwarts Ghosts. Peeves has always had this odd tolerance for Harry that he’s gladly taken advantage of more times than he can count. Something about his father and his father’s friends, the best group of pranksters to ever walk these halls! or whatever. Harry’s not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, their slight distraction with Peeves has nothing on the Grey Lady’s interaction with Professor Riddle.

She never takes an interest in anyone outside of her little Ravenclaws if Hermione is to be believed. And Hermione is rarely ever wrong. So Harry is on the deep end of surprised when she floats down the other end of the fifth-floor corridor, sees them coming, and waits. Ghosts can’t really be described as warm— unless you were talking about the Fat Friar, and only then because, even as a ghost, he appears to be wearing too many layers for this time of year— but the Grey Lady’s soft eyes for Professor Riddle is a near thing.

“Tom,” she starts as Harry follows his professor’s lead and stops to greet her. “You’re back.”

Harry tries to keep as quiet as a mouse because he very desperately wants to know what she means by that, and he doesn’t think she’s even realised he’s here yet. Harry doesn’t even think he’s ever heard her speak before, either, but her voice is as soft as her eyes. Dainty like bells.

“Yes, Lady Ravenclaw. It has been a long time.” Professor Riddle seems pleased she remembers him. But… Harry can’t put his finger on it. Something just feels off. His neck prickles with that alert sort of awareness, the kind he’s never really been able to break since he was a kid—that prickle of danger.

Grey Lady nods, “Nearly three decades.”

Three decades? Hell, that’s a long time. How old is Professor Riddle anyway? He doesn’t look a day older than thirty, but unless Grey Lady knew him pre-birth, Harry would have to reevaluate his perception of wizard ages.

Harry is vaguely aware that this is all none of his business, and he really shouldn’t be standing here listening closely and pondering on whether or not Professor Riddle was a good Ravenclaw back in the day. But knowledge is power, right? As an obvious Ravenclaw Alumni, Professor Riddle would appreciate Harry’s retention. And since Harry still has no idea how he’ll react to the little skirmish from earlier, looking out for possible blackmail wouldn’t be amiss.  

Professor Riddle looks surprised, “I don’t recall speaking with you the last time I was here.”

“Because you didn’t,” her reply is simple and to the point. Not said with any ounce of anger. It’s undoubtedly spoken with a fair amount of weight, however.

Harry hasn’t spent six, going on seven, years in the snake pit not to pick up on her clear underlying message: you didn’t see me, but I saw you. And even though it sounds like a threat, Harry is confident she only means it as a warning. A warning for what? Harry hopes to find out.

“How terribly remiss of me,” Professor Riddle shakes his head as though ashamed. “We should rectify this, of course, and speak at length when you have the time,” his accompanying smile is bright and charming. Harry almost wants to whistle in appreciation. That is some fine schmoozing if he says so himself.

But Grey Lady doesn’t respond. Instead, she floats on, and as she passes Harry, her shoulder phasing through his, he can’t help noticing her stricken face. The purse to her lips and the translucent grip of her hands, it’s almost like she’s scared.

Harry watches her go, still for a touch too long, and Professor Riddle clears his throat, “If you’ll continue following me, please, Mr Potter.”

His attention snaps back to the professor, “I had no idea you were a Ravenclaw, Professor Riddle.”

Professor Riddle looks very amused for a moment. Then, he continues walking and asks, “Whatever gave that away?”

Harry is immediately suspicious, “Ravenclaw’s Ghost. She doesn’t speak with anyone outside of her House. Even the professors have a hard time catching her attention unless they are one of her past students.” When Professor Riddle doesn’t respond right away, Harry adds, “For example, she didn’t acknowledge me once during your conversation.”

“That is true,” he nods, and that strange amusement lingers on the edges of Professor Riddle’s lips. They don’t speak for the remainder of their walk, though it isn’t without Harry trying.

Really, Harry hasn’t met anyone this paranoid in his life— maybe Moody, but the Auror is in a league all his own. However, Professor Riddle isn’t far behind, acting as though even the floors have ears. Or, at least, Harry assumes it’s paranoia stopping the Professor from answering. Maybe he’s just fed up with Harry’s questions…

As they enter the Defence classroom, Harry takes in the changes. Each Defence Professor certainly came with their own flair. Lockhart with his vain decor and opulence, Remus with his purely educational and scientific creatures posters and skeletons, Moody with his nearly claustrophobic clutter of dark curse detectors and jars of worms and bees, Umbridge with her bare-walled bleakness almost as though she could be the only thing of note in the room, Snape with his… well… Snape-ness—no one was surprised to come into the drawn curtain, candle-lit, gruesome pictured room last year.

Professor Riddle is an interesting mix, Harry thinks. Not over the top with gold and silver or anything like that, but there’s definitely a lustre to everything that speaks of fine quality. There’s a nice variety of defence posters, all topics from creatures to spells to stances to potions. How refreshing after the gloom of Snape. It’s brighter in here, Harry notes. Even in the late hour, the warm glow of the room is inviting.

Harry carefully tucks away the sight of a large empty vivarium for later questioning as Professor Riddle shows him up the staircase to his office.

“Have a seat, Mr Potter.” Professor Riddle rounds his desk, a simple wooden piece, large and already strewn with papers, and takes a seat. Harry follows suit, taking in his office with much less attention than the classroom. If only because it seems Professor Riddle hasn’t finished setting it up to his standards. Piles of books sit abandoned by the many bookshelves covering one wall, and a fair amount of boxes are open and unopened in each corner.

Harry takes a deep breath and readies to defend himself. He thinks he’s got a pretty reasonable defence (pun intended) for his Defence Professor. Even if the man has heard of Harry through gossip rags like Witch Weekly and the hardly-a-news-source Daily Prophet, Harry figures he’s still got the benefit of the doubt.

Unless, of course, Professor Riddle had strong affiliations during the war. That could always go either way. Harry’s met some pretty chill Voldemort supporters over the years and some pretty not-chill ones. The Malfoys, for instance, treat him like a second son, and Harry’s mostly sure that’s only because they think him the next Dark Lord or something. Whereas Theodore Nott, and probably his whole family, definitely hates Harry’s guts for killing Voldemort.

“Professor Riddle, about what happened earlier, I can explain—“ Harry starts and is near immediately cut off.

“You’re quite gifted in spell casting, aren’t you, Mr Potter?” Professor Riddle leans back and crosses his legs, hands in his lap. Okay…he doesn’t look like he’s about to get Harry expelled… And is that a compliment?

“Uh,” Harry stutters. He’s still not good with praise; it’s still so foreign to him. “I wouldn’t use that word, Professor. But thank you.”

Professor Riddle shakes his head, “It is nothing to thank me for if it is a fact. When I was accepted for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, I first requested a list of all the students and their academic placements.” He pauses to shuffle the papers around on his desk until he pulls out one long parchment, “Four years straight, you held the top of the list in Defence for your year, and your Ordinary Wizarding Levels were exemplary even though you appear to have barely scraped by in fifth-year with a Dreadful.”

Professor Riddle glances up at Harry with a world-weary look, “I have speculations about why you placed so low the last two years. A Troll for sixth-year? With the casting I saw? Highly unlikely.”

Harry blinks, “Oh,” is all he can muster. Welp, that answers how much of the duel Professor Riddle had seen. And, surely he didn’t have all the Hogwarts students’ placements memorised so thoroughly? Is it just his seventh-year classes? Is it just Harry?

For the first time all evening, Harry is struck with the sudden question: why was Professor Riddle in a random seventh-floor corridor, anyway?

Now, Harry can say what he likes about paranoid people being paranoid. Unfortunately, it didn’t mitigate the fact that Harry was a touch paranoid himself. And, even though Professor Riddle hasn’t come off as anything less than concerned-professor-addressing-his-student, Harry still hasn’t quite gotten over that prickle of danger back with Grey Lady. It would be absolutely batty to think Professor Riddle was following him, or whatever, but now that Harry’s thought about it, he can’t stop thinking about it.

“That is just Defence. You have placed consistently in the top 10 of almost all your other classes since you arrived at Hogwarts,” Professor Riddle rolls up the parchment and sets it aside. “Divination and you do not seem to agree, however.”

Harry can’t tell if Riddle is impressed, surprised, or both. Honestly, he’s kind of busy scoping out any easy exit points now that he’s spiralling down the my-new-defence-professor-might-be-stalking-me rabbit hole. Harry lets out a strained laugh and hopes that’s enough of an answer.

“You appear to be a bright young man, so why did you feel the need to fight six Gryffindor students after curfew, Mr Potter?”

Indignant, Harry decides to shelf his panic attack for later, “I didn’t feel the need. This is a yearly thing they like to do. They’ve decided they are within their rights to punish me for my audacity to sort Slytherin when I was eleven and enjoy cornering me during my prefect rounds.”

Riddle arches his brow, “This has been going on for years?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve not gone to your Head of House?”

Harry nearly scoffs, “Snape and I do not get along.”

“Professor Snape, Mr Potter,” Riddle’s amused smile is back in full force.

Harry presses his lips into a thin line and counts backwards from ten. Twice. “Of course, sir. Professor Snape and I do not get along. He tolerates me on the best of days and probably plans out my murder in vivid detail on the worst.”

Peeves may love Harry’s father. Snape decidedly didn’t. Hardly fair, if anyone asked him, that he has to take Snape’s shitty abuse just because he looks like a man he’s never met.

Riddle nods and tilts his head. He’s silent for a moment before he asks, “And do you like Slytherin House?”

It’s such an out-of-left-field question that Harry gapes for a moment. He pulls himself together enough to give it some serious thought. Does he like being a Slytherin? He’s never been anything else, so it’s hard to say. It was pretty shitty in the beginning. Being ostracised for doing something he didn’t even remember or know about until a month before school while also adjusting to a totally new concept like magic being real was kind of awful. And he wouldn’t recommend it. Still—

“Yes,” Harry answers passionately and wholeheartedly. “I love it. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

And he means it. Because even though first-year had its fair share of torture, it was also magic. It was walls that opened with a whispered word revealing a room with a sea-floor view and green velvet sofas, it was his very own room after years of sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs, it was his first friend and his first laugh, it was wands and potions and spells and charms and magic.

Riddle does seem surprised now, as though he expected Harry to give a very different answer. His quiet turns thoughtful for a long, long while, and Harry wonders how long their meeting will drag out. It’s well after curfew and prefect hours now, isn’t it?

A dragging sound pulls them both from their silence.

Harry’s eyes quickly lock on a stack of precariously stacked boxes. They move slightly as though pushed and wobble dangerously. After a few moments of nothing, a large snake head appears from around its corner.

And that answers Harry’s question about the empty vivarium in the classroom.

The snake’s scales against the stone floor are what make the dragging sound as it carefully moves closer and closer to Harry. A quick glance at Riddle shows that he has no intentions of stopping it; great. In fact, that amusement is far too obvious once again.

Belatedly Harry realises the snake is sort of massive, far longer than any snake he’s ever seen. Including that one ball python at the zoo. The snake’s body gracefully adjusts as it creeps up and up and up until its head is level with Harry’s. A cool forked tongue quickly brushes against his cheek. Harry blinks, wide-eyed.

“Excuse Nagini, Mr Potter. She’s just curious.”

Harry knows he shouldn’t say anything. He knows it’s too risky to reply because he can’t quite control his parseltongue in front of snakes, but he can’t just sit here and not say anything. He’s still trying to get out of expulsion and maybe even a few detentions, after all. So he looks very hard at Riddle and desperately hopes the man won’t act too cruel if Harry slips up, “It’s-s fine, s-sir.”

Harry winces. Even he can tell his s sounds were a little too harsh just then, and Riddle’s brown eyes sharpen at the curious drag of his voice.

Riddle leans forward, elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, and tilts his head. “That’s right. As a Slytherin, you must not mind snakes. Comes with the territory?”

“You could,” Harry swallows, “s-ay that.” He grits his teeth. Hope is a lie. He needs to get out of here.

Somehow Riddle leans ever so closer, “It’s interesting. I was under the impression that her presence here might cause a great disturbance. Headmaster Dumbledore was very worried about student safety and their reactions.”

Harry pauses. His eyes drift back over to Nagini. What? Wait, “Student safety?”

Suddenly Riddle is up and standing. It startles Harry more than he’ll ever admit, and while he’s distracted by that, Nagini rests her large head on his shoulder and inches her way behind his neck, “A speaker? You speak parseltongue, young child?”

Riddle quickly rounds to the front of his desk, his fingers tapping a pleasant little rhythm across it. He finds a comfortable spot and casually leans back against it, arms crossed. Harry’s thigh is almost brushing the long line of Riddle’s legs. Harry wants to die, just a little.

“Mr Potter, Harry,” Riddle says his name like a curse and a blessing and very, very different from how he’s been saying it all evening. A chill runs down Harry’s spine.

Nagini interrupts before Riddle can continue, “Are you cold, young child? Tom, the boy is cold. Warm him.”

“My snake seems rather taken with you, Harry,” Riddle carries on, completely ignoring Nagini and her demands. Which makes sense because Riddle doesn’t speak parseltongue, but Harry is sorely tempted to laugh at how she sounds so used to bossing Riddle around. He doesn’t scream doting pet owner, but maybe Harry’s got a bad read on him. Or maybe the fear and adrenalin are making Harry fucking crazy.

And when did he become Harry and not Mr Potter?

Harry coughs, focusing all his attention on Riddle once more, “Cool. What concern did Dumbledore have for the children?” Nailed it.

Riddle’s answering smile is large and closed-lipped. He’s not laughing, but it sure as hell feels like he is. “Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry. And it is nothing to worry about, as I have taken measures to keep you all safe. Nagini just happens to be rather poisonous; her venom is capable of killing a man in less than a minute.”

Huh. Harry suddenly doesn’t feel all too thrilled about having Riddle’s rather large, potentially man-killing, and weirdly mothering snake getting all cosy on his shoulders. Even now, she’s still hissing nonsense words of concern and praise, and really, Harry’s not been paying too close attention to her out of fear of messing up again.

Harry nods as slowly and carefully as possible. “I get why he’d be a little worried.”

Riddle hums, not necessarily agreeing, not necessarily disagreeing. “Back to our original topic, I will not be reporting your altercation with the Gryffindors.”

The fierce surprise waging a three-way war with suspicion and hope in Harry’s chest is enough to leave him breathless. How the hell did he get this lucky? “Thank you, I really appreciate it—“ Harry stops himself from adding an instinctual sir.

Harry sits uncomfortably in the realisation that Riddle is definitely laughing at him as Riddle’s brows inch up. Harry sighs and says, “s-sir.” He clears his throat.

“Apologies, Harry. It is quite late, is it not? I wouldn’t want to keep you; the term officially starts tomorrow, after all.” Riddle straightens up from his lean, and he’s closer now than he’s ever been to Harry.

“One last thing,” Riddle says, and his hands curl around either side of Harry’s neck. Harry is dizzy in the stifling nearness. Riddle’s not touching him, but the warmth radiating off his body and hands burns until Harry is certain there’ll be blisters.

Riddle carefully takes Nagini from her perch on Harry and wraps her gently across his own shoulders, “In exchange for my silence, I expect us to meet here once a week. Outside of our class time. I shall wait until you get your timetable before picking something suitable for us both.”

Harry’s eyes are glued to the floor when he says, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Harry.”

Harry’s neck whips up at breaking speed, and for just a split second, hardly a blink, Riddle’s eyes are a scolding red.

Harry blinks once, twice, three whole times before he manages a desperate, “Yes, Professor Riddle.”

Riddle’s answering smile is the cat’s canary, and Harry certainly feels like prey to a predator right now.

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #pov: harry #4.1k words #chapter 1 #my fic #slytherin!harry #professor!tom | voldemort #fic: what's lost (what's gained) #i have nothing to say i don't even know where this came from