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#so it fit well enough I didn't notice at first
momointhetardis · 4 months
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very tired from class today so I go to play elden ring and listen to one of my metal playlists while playing... accidentally turn on my video game music playlist for studying instead...
ended up with a fucking hysterical moment of me riding my horse and attacking things to music from mario 64
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cyxnidx · 8 months
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LATE NIGHTS.
character: neuvilette x fem!reader
prompt: "please forgive me.. jus' couldn't wait."
warnings: consensual somnophilia, needy + sensitive neuvi, wet dream, slight dacryphilia, edging
a/n: been thinkin ab this for ages
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neuvilette is shaken from his sleep after a wet dream. a dream that was so intense it seemed to get him out of his sleep - his hard on lifting the sheets from his current sleeping position.
and out of the corner of his eye - was you. your peaceful, sleeping figure. eyes closed softly, quiet snores occasionally leaving your soft lips. out of what he'd excuse as curiosity, he pulled the sheets back. just a bit. it exposed nothing too extreme: just an oversized shirt you'd bought while out shopping. it was supposed to be a piece for an outfit, but now it's just a classic shirt you sleep in.
removing the sheets further, he admires the way the shirt cascades down your body, hugging you perfectly.
the more of you he sees, the worse he gets. he's palming his cock now, noticing the spots of pre leaking from his tip. he takes another look at you, the sheets now fully off your body. your legs exposed, as you curl into a ball due to the lack of warmth.
the thoughts in neuvilettes mind are anything but professional - anything but acceptable. but you wouldn't mind, right?
you did at some point have that discussion. the discussion of what you wouldn't mind sexually, and what you're into. the same conversation that made neuvilette shy out of his mind.
"if for whatever reason you're awake, and horny while i'm asleep, but don't wanna wake me up.. don't be shy to fuck me til i wake up." your voice echos through his mind. "i won't be upset, promise."
he sighs, moving hesitantly as an attempt to not wake you. he knows it may be inevitable, but he'd want you to get every second possible.
pulling his bottoms off, his cock springs from its confines and slaps up against his stomach. the moonlight defines his body, creating a silhouette only a god would create. his tip is pink and angry when he takes hold of it, pulling off your bottoms as well.
he lightly rubs against your pussy lips, spreading your slick before inserting two fingers. he curls them upward, almost smirking at your unconscious reaction. he then moves to lick a stripe up your cunt, tongue fucking you softly as to not stir you too much. when he feels you're slick enough, he takes hold of his tip.
though, he still frowns. he pushes himself against you, almost groaning at the way your slick feels against his tip. the idea of using you in your sleep still bothers his slightly, but he wasn't against the idea. especially not for a first time occurrence.
pushing himself past your folds and into your tight little hole, he tries to keep moving to a bare minimum - as much as possible, anyway.
"jus for a little, baby.." he mumbled, slowly fitting himself in you. bottoming out, he watched you stir in your sleep once again, likely at the feeling of being so full. "sorry.." he apologized, kissing your forehead as he began to move slowly.
his veiny cock dragged against the gummy walls of your cunt. you clenched around him involuntarily, provoking a surprised moan from him. once again, you stir from the noise. "neuvi.. neuvilette..?" you mumbled. neuvilette kissed your forehead softly, though, with no response you seemed to go right back to sleep.
at the very beginning, he thought it'd be easier. easy as ever, actually. until he kept getting a little too aggressive, making you stir in your sleep unintentionally, or almost waking you up had he not coaxed you back to your dreamland.
as time went on, neuvilette began to see it as a game of sorts - to not wake you up. only bad thing being, he constantly edged himself. the closer he got to his climax, the rougher he'd get. the more likely you were to be woken up. he didn't want to - he hated the idea of you losing sleep over him not having control over his sexual urges. but what could he do?
but now, his hand wrapped around your tit while the other took hold of your waist, he got needy. he was nearing a sort of overstimulation he'd never dealt with before. a neediness he never expected. a roughness even he wouldn't think could be provoked from him.
"please forgive me.." he mumbled, looking into your sleepy eyes as your hands couldn't decipher whether they wanted to grip the sheets at his fast pace or rub the sleep out of the corners of your eyes. "m' so sorry.. so sorry.." he whined, tears lining his eyes as he increased his pace, encouraged by the small moans and whines that began to exit your lips. "jus' couldn't wait.." he kisses your forehead, grip tightening over your waist.
"said i could, yeah? you don't mind.." he repeated what he remembered, his mind foggy from constantly edging himself. "couldn't wait. you were so pretty, and.." it began to rain outside as tears cascaded down his rosy cheeks. "..you understand, right? right?"
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dollypopup · 17 days
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I truly cannot overstate just how much I adore Colin Bridgerton as a male love lead, and how important his story is, in particular in a current, modern reading. We live in a time of alpha male machismo that in many ways mirrors the sexism of the historical time period Colin is in, and we have a hero who explicitly rejects it. More than that, we have a hero who first tries on the persona, first tries to fit in, and then determines, with no outside influence and all on his own, that it's wrong. That he doesn't want to be like the men of his society, that he doesn't like the expectation of sex without love and commitment and connection, that he doesn't want to be 'one of the boys', even if it comes at their derision.
Because when Violet says he has always been her most sensitive child, when he has always considered others before himself, when he has always offered a joke or a moment of levity- for so long, he felt he had to. That there was no other choice.
Colin Bridgerton, The Great Pretender, is finally coming into the light.
Take my hand. Come walk with me.
Colin's arc is incredibly clear, and incredibly dear to me. We can track his progress throughout the seasons he has been in, but if we consider his backstory, it comes even more in clarity.
Piecing together a timeline with some influence from the books and loose historical accuracy, Colin loses his father at 12 and then is sent off to Eton. And he is a tiny thing when his father passes, shorter even than his 9 year old sister, Eloise.
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(Yes, I checked!! He's half a head shorter than Eloise, and an entire head shorter than Daphne. This boy is SMALL)
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So it makes a lot of sense to me that this is the start of his fake-it-to-make-it personality. He cannot grieve with his family in these circumstances, he's been sent off to school with other boys who are bigger and stronger than him, and he must realize relatively quickly that weakness in their eyes will never be tolerated. In fact, Eton was well known for corporal punishment and bullying during this time. Older boys were well known to mistreat the younger once, and considering just how small and soft-hearted Colin is, and just how vulnerable he is having lost his father-
Of course Colin would become a target of such.
And despite that, we meet him in Season 1 with an endearing earnestness and hopefulness in the world. Something inside him, something sweet and gentle and warm, thrives to live. And fights against grief to do so. How easy it would have been for him to lose his father and be bitter. How easy for him to see his father die from the steps of Aubrey Hall, to be sent to a boarding school away, and withdraw in on himself.
And yet, he doesn't.
At least, not in the way one would suspect. Instead, Colin becomes a chronic people pleaser. If the people around him are happy, then he will be safe. Will not be hurt. And they have no space for his own hurt, regardless. There's hardly even any space for his mirth, as most people didn't even reply to his letters on his travels the previous season.
In Colin's confession in Season 3, he says 'I have spent so long trying to feel less', and this numbing begins early in his life. He's a consummate gentleman in Season 1. He does everything by the book, everything as he should. He wants to be accepted in his society, wants to be taken seriously, wants to belong. So he sees a pretty woman, and he gets along with her well enough, and he courts her. Openly, honestly, in full view. It isn't a heart-stopping love, but he has numbed himself for years at this point, so affection will do, and if proper men of his society are married, well, maybe he'd finally be taken seriously.
And yet, no one notices him, even still. No one except Penelope. His own mother doesn't recognize his behavior, and worries for him after she does. How long has it been since she's actually seen him? We know from the show that he's incredibly close to his mother, and loves her dearly, but we also know that after Edmund's passing, Violet was mired in grief and post-partum depression. Colin misses much of this as a firsthand witness since he's at school, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be able to tell, wouldn't be affected by losing his mother and father in one fell swoop. In fact, Colin loses his connection to the majority of his family in being sent to school so soon after the tragedy. So of course he comes back and he tries not to make waves. Tries to do things correctly.
His friction with Anthony proves time and time again that nothing he does is entirely ever able to fully please him, and this causes contention in their brotherly bond. Of all the siblings, Anthony is arguably the most harsh with Colin. And he is also the model for who a man should be in the family, as the head of the family.
So when Anthony sees Colin earnestly try to marry, he scoffs him off. Accuses Colin of only wanting to marry to have sex, and then claiming "It is my fault. I should have taken you to brothels." This is the first on-screen shaming of Colin looking for connection before sex, and Colin doubles down. He wants to marry for love.
But he doesn't actually love Marina. Neither of them truly know each other, and so when it all blows up, and he is humiliated to the entirety of his community, Colin gets his first taste of romantic failure. He tried to do it right, and it ended more wrong than he could have ever imagined. So, maybe Anthony was right. Maybe he is just a foolish, green boy, who has no idea how to go about things. The fallout of his failed engagement echoes in the persona he puts on in Season 3, and the choices he undergoes during them. Is it any wonder he ends up going to brothels to have unfulfilling sex if even his own BROTHER, the head of his family, tells him to do so?
It doesn't happen right away, though. Despite the fact that no one truly checks on him or sees how this breakup effects him (Eloise dismisses the hurt he must feel in light of such events with an honestly rather accurate wave-away "Men are always less affected", and that is true), it is evident that he is NOT okay.
We leave Colin in Season 1 putting on a mask, a happy face to his family, a 'you inspired me' to Penelope, and then spends his travels sad. Depressed. Taking drugs to try to ease his mind, occupying himself with writing to Penelope. In Season 2, he spends the entirety of it trying to be useful. And he does this with Penelope. He feels deeply for her, he cares so much for her, and he even says it to her aloud 'You are special to me' and 'I will always look after you' and how he could never give her up. Season 2 is a season of healing for Colin- he closes his chapter with Marina with a relationship post-mortum conversation after he does a wellness check to make sure she's alive (let's be real here, no one else was going to reach out to her. She made it clear to him that even her own father didn't want her), makes amends with Will, proves himself useful to Penelope, and departs on a high: he thinks he threaded the needle. He thinks he was successful sending Jack off, that he made Penelope happy, and that he's in with The Boys.
But whilst the person he is around Penelope is genuine, the person he is around these men are not. We know from Season 3 that they don't actually like him. They make snide, underhanded comments toward him, and laugh at him. I stand by the idea that end of season 2 is Fife and Co. laughing at Penelope AND laughing at Colin. They don't care about their friendship, they're teasing him for caring about her so openly, and Colin is protective of the relationship he has with Penelope. So he makes a comment for the boys, and puts on his mask. 'I would never court Penelope Featherington' (look, I'm just like you. I walk like you, talk like you, speak like you) 'Not in your wildest fantasies, Fife' (I am one of you one of you one of you- so why does it feel so hollow?)
He gets, now, his first taste of acceptance from them. They come to him to Mondrich's bar, he repays his slight against him, and he feels he is one of them. (Does he truly *want* to be one of them?) And so when we open Season 3, it's a smooth progression.
Colin is walking the walk and talking the talk, and yet his heart isn't in it. He's not one of these smarmy men, but he mimics them. Their behavior. In part, at least. Whilst Fife is out preying on 18 year old women in coat closets, Colin is telling gaggles of girls how pretty they are and how with such nice dresses, they're sure to find a husband. He makes it clear he's not an option, but that he doesn't mind being a fantasy. And Luke Newton does an amazing job making that clear: there are three sides of Colin. The Colin portrayed to his society in the light in good company (1) and the Colin portrayed to his society in the dark, in. . .less savory circles (aka: The Lads)(2), his 'armor' as his mum calls it. And finally, the most important but the one kept closest to the chest: the Colin of truth. The Colin who cries alone in his room after a breakup, the Colin who doesn't burden others with his feelings, the Colin who writes to Penelope, the Colin who loves deeply and feels deeply.
But his society has no use for a man like the real Colin, they do not *want* a man like real Colin, so he puts it under lock and key. And so much of this is centered around his feelings about sex, so here comes my 'Colin is Queer' soapbox. Colin does not experience sexual attraction like the rest of the men of the ton. He is expected to find it casual and be cavalier about it. To just want to fuck for the sake of fucking. But Colin needs love and romance and connection to actually enjoy sexual interactions. Nowadays, we recognize this as being on the asexual spectrum, of being demisexual, but he didn't have words for that in the time period he's in, so he has to forge ahead to figure himself out without a community identity to find solidarity with. That's what makes the brothel scenes so interesting as a narrative device: in the first, he's masking even in the midst of it, and in the second, he can't. After kissing Penelope, he finally, for the first time in his life, has a sexual interaction that means something to him.
It's the first one he truly enjoys, and the first one that feels right to him. It clicks for him that oh, that's what it's meant to be like. And the strain of that realization whilst still having to be what his society expects of him puts immense stress on his shoulders. You see how he grows more and more uncomfortable about the conversations, until finally he rejects it outright.
Even when it's very much not encouraged for him to do so. He's even told "You are much more fun this season." That's why he hides himself. From near everyone, even his family, even his brothers. It's telling how Anthony's positive interaction with Colin is when they're at the club, and Anthony praises him for his most recent attention. Have we seen much of Anthony being proud of Colin, otherwise? Not really. So he's reinforced in his persona. Doesn't boast of his travels because it didn't have anyone liking him for it, before. Doesn't even say how many cities he's gone to. Except with Penelope.
In the books, there's a line about their kiss, referencing how his world will never be the same. And it won't be. Because when Colin says that she helps him see the world in new ways, it's in a multitude of meanings.
Penelope refuses to let him wear the mask, because in truth, Penelope is the only one who doesn't like it. Not only does she see the real Colin, but she enjoys the real Colin. Whilst everyone else is simpering over Colin's new look and attitude, rejects who he is in reality, Penelope dismisses it, wants the person she knows him to be instead. It's only when he strips down the facades that Penelope allows him into her life again. And her Whistledown article was harsh, but it was also true. He *is* masking. He *is* putting on a persona and a role. But she was wrong when she asked if Colin even knows which is real: Colin knows very well which is real. And he also knows the realities of him haven't been accepted.
When Colin tells Penelope charm can be taught, he speaks from experience. When he says 'living for the expectations of others is a trap' it is because he has already fallen into it, and if he can't dig himself out, maybe he can keep her from it. Colin tells her 'you do not need lessons' and that she is fine exactly as she is, because just as she sees the real him and loves him, he sees the real her, and loves her, too. But they both live in the constraints of their society, and so they both put on the masquerade. Even sometimes to hide from each other.
The current climax of his arc is when he's out with the lads, after they all go off to the brothel again, and he disassociates from the experience. Playing cards and insisting on sharing sexual exploits, to which he does not want to take part, and makes a lighthearted dig at them. 'There is no gentleman at this table'. He includes himself in that, and then clarifies. He speaks aloud for the first time to them the truth of his heart- 'Do you not ever tire of the expectation to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning? Do you not find it lonely?' Can it really only just be him?
And it is. Or, maybe it isn't, but the rest of them aren't brave enough to admit it, so they're okay in making him feel like it is, in outcasting him for being a romantic, for caring about a woman beyond what she can provide for him sexually. Colin professes he doesn't like who he's become, doesn't like the expectations for him to behave the way he has, and they laugh at him. Again. He is made fun of, again.
He goes home and he falls in his bed and he feels like he lost it all. Lost Penelope to his own advice, and lost his newfound shine in his community. But when he's faced with which one matters more to him, he chooses Penelope. Unhesitatingly.
Colin chooses to be sensitive. He chooses to be a warm-hearted, gentle man in a society that prefers sexist machismo. Act one way in the light and another in the shadows. Colin wants to live authentically, as a man he doesn't really have a role model for. He is brave and he is tender, he sees the sexism of his society and he rejects it. He sees the importance Penelope has in his life, the way she makes him feel, and he embraces her wholeheartedly. He wants love and romance, he wants connection and meaning.
Colin, The Great Pretender, sick of pretending. Colin, walking into that ballroom and giving Fife the cut direct when he invites him out. Colin, cutting into a dance in the middle of a ball between Penelope and a man the entire city knows is about to propose. Colin staring deeply into her eyes with such unfiltered longing even *Cressida* can't help but notice what's going on. Colin running off after Penelope in full view of his society, outrunning a *carriage* to see her. Begging her to let him in. Colin on his knees, all but flaying his chest open for Penelope to see his heart. Colin made a choice when that candle flickered out, and his choice was Penelope. His choice was himself. And his choice was to flip off societal expectation and to live for love, damn the consequences.
I think our own world would be a better place if modern men took his example, too. Colin Bridgerton as male love lead in Bridgerton, a global show, is such a refreshing, wonderful example. A man who tried to be like what the world wanted, and who decided to go against the gender norms of his time. A man who prioritizes the woman he loves, who risks ridicule in doing so and comes to realize that he doesn't care. He doesn't care anymore about being one of the boys, one of the lads, one of the guys. Fuck his society if his society can't recognize the beauty of what he feels with Pen. He cares about being the best self he can be. And that best self is around Penelope, inspired by Penelope.
Because how he is with Penelope? God, I could swoon. At every turn, he prioritizes her comfort and personhood. He validates her, he sees her in beautiful, positive light and he helps her see herself that way, too. He encourages her to be brave because he already feels she is, he refuses to let her call herself stupid or a laughingstock, he apologizes without excuses, he checks in on her every step of the way. He's so passionate in that carriage, he's burning for her, he's yearning, but he doesn't do anything until she agrees for him to. He confesses his feelings and when she says they're friends, he backs off. He listens, he cares. He apologizes for overstepping her boundaries, and then when she gives him her consent, the only thing on his mind is showing how much he wants and appreciates her by providing her pleasure. Colin, the people pleaser, dedicated only to pleasing two people in that moment: Penelope, and himself. Because he wants to do that, to give her an orgasm that exists just for her. He's a witness to it, and that's pleasure for him, too. He waits for her nod of consent, he revels in seeing her enjoying herself. And the aftercare- I could cry.
Colin is a man who had every single reason not to be a kind, sensitive soul, and still he chose it. Chose to share it because the headline, even a wallflower can bloom, that's not just for Penelope.
It's for Colin, too.
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keerysfreckles · 5 months
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cookies — luke castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x hephaestus fem!reader
summary: in which luke finds y/n, in order to tell her something he's been meaning to for the past two years
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, i think thats it ??? making out/kissing
a/n: I FINISHED TLT TODAY- idc if luke is evil (if evil why pookie)
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n l/n thought her life at camp half-blood would've felt like a fairy tale. two years later, she was deeply misguided.
the camp experience itself wasn't bad. she loved meeting the new campers, and bonding with her cabin mates, and seeing luke from time to time.
but even when she got claimed by her father, hephaestus, y/n still felt like a square trying to fit in a triangle hole. hephaestus was the god of forge. fire. craft. creation.
when y/n first arrived to camp, she met luke. he didn't know why, but out of all the campers in hermes cabin, he felt as though he needed to protect y/n the most.
two and a half weeks after meeting luke, y/n had been claimed by her father. the boy was sad to see her leave, but glad as well, due to her being claimed to a new cabin.
as soon as y/n and chiron entered the doors of hephaestus cabin, the duo was met with seven boys. five of them were around the same age as the girl, and the other two looked no older than ten.
this made y/n feel even more out of place. yes, they all made her feel at home, and they still do. y/n just can't help but feel isolated.
less than a week after y/n was claimed, she unfortunately found out forging wasn't the exact type of creation she was skilled at. she tried pottery, metalwork, jewelry making, and even knitting. the girl was crushed when none of the activies suited her.
until one afternoon, she was in the kitchen after helping bring in dirty dishes from lunch. a few ingredients caught her eye, and she instantly started bringing them together and made something delicious. chiron soon came inside, and was both surprised and pleased y/n had found her activity. cooking.
this leads y/n to where she is right now. the camp kitchen. ever since the fateful day she discovered her gift, she rarely ever left the kitchen. y/n was considered the new cook of camp, and she enjoyed everything about it.
recently, the girl has taken baking into her small circle of talents. which explains why all day y/n has been baking cookies for tomorrow. it was percy's birthday, and annabeth asked her to make blue chocolate chip cookies for him, one of percy's favorite foods. she had to make enough for the whole camp. almost one hundred cookies were already baked and cooled, and she had one hundred more to go.
annabeth kept checking on y/n every so often, to see her progress (and to make sure she took breaks and to not overwork herself). two times the younger girl came in the kitchen, her and y/n talked for a bit. y/n kept teasing annabeth at all the staring she'd been doing towards percy lately. to be fair, it was annabeth's idea to have the cookies for percy's birthday, so y/n knew something had to be going on between the two tweens.
y/n doesn't notice the person who had entered the kitchen. she heard footsteps, so she guessed it was annabeth.
luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen. he took a moment to admire the girl in front of him. y/n stood behind the kitchen island, with a metal bowl, a baking sheet, and other multiple baking utensils layed out over the countertop. luke could smell a batch of cookies in the oven at the right of the kitchen, along with the fresh ones all placed on the counters behind y/n.
luke finally knocks on the door, making y/n look up from rolling balls of cookie dough. a smile was quick to fill her features, "hi luke."
luke walked over towards her, leaning on the island, standing across from her.
"how are percy's birthday cookies coming along?" he asks, seeing the girl still at work.
y/n nods, "they're going," she laughs, "that's for sure."
"i was looking for you earlier," luke admits, as he continues to watch y/n at work.
looking up from her blue stained hands, y/n sees a small blush covering luke's cheeks. "oh yeah?"
it's luke's turn to nod, "yeah, but the hephaestus boys said you'd be in here."
y/n chuckles, before the two sit in a comfortable silence for no less than a minute.
"did you need me for something?" y/n asks, as she takes two baking sheets to the oven. luke only laughs while watching y/n open the oven with her foot, as her hands were full.
"i just wanted to come check on you," luke moves to side of the kitchen island y/n was previously on. "you have made quite the mess in here."
both luke and y/n look at the batches of cookies, the reminants of cookie dough on the counters, empty bowls in both of the sinks, and flour on the kitchen island and floor.
"what's the real reason you wanted to see me luke?" y/n asks the boy, knowing that he had a tell when he was nervous. he always licked his lips before speaking.
"what? i can't just want to see a dear friend of mine?" he jokes.
"oh you can," y/n responds, "except, whenever you visited me you always wanted seconds, or an extra dessert."
luke doesn't repsond right away, knowing y/n had a point.
the boy licks his lips, nervous from what he's about to tell y/n.
"do you ever wonder why i might've been more protective of you over the other campers? when you first joined hermes cabin?" luke asks, catching y/n off guard.
y/n shakes her head, "no, i never really thought about it before."
luke takes a deep breath, "you seemed more special to me."
y/n's eyebrows furrowed, only making luke continue.
"you just seemed so different from the other campers i've met. special. i just had to protect you. i still feel like i have to."
"luke, i don't get what you're trying to say," y/n admits. luke's confession is only making her confused.
"then i don't have to say it," luke's voice is soft.
y/n's confusion returns, but only for mere seconds before she feels luke's lips on hers. she pulls away from the him, out of shock at what he had just done.
his eyes instantly met hers. his filled with worry as if he messed everything up the two had between them.
before luke could start to overthink everything, y/n leaned up to kiss him. his eyes closed, and his hand went to both sides of her face.
y/n's lips tasted like sugar, with a hint of salt. luke guessed it was from tasting her cookies to get them as perfect as she can for percy's birthday.
luke's lips tasted like a campfire. y/n could only assume it was from the smores hermes cabin had after winning capture the flag that day.
y/n's hands were still blue, and in order to not stain luke or his clothing, she opted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. she felt luke's hands on her waist, only pulling her closer to him.
soon enough luke's tongue pushed through y/n's lips, which caused her to giggle. luke loved her reaction.
before anything could get more heated, a timer goes off in the small kitchen. the loud shrill made luke and y/n stop their movements. y/n only looked at luke sheepishly. the girl leaned in once more and pecked the boy's lips, before retrieving the cookies out of the oven.
"do you want any help?" luke asks, watching y/n again as she started rolling out more balls of cookie dough.
she nods, "if you don't mind your hands getting blue."
luke laughs, "i'm willing to take that chance."
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afterglowsainz · 1 month
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i'mgonnagetyouback | max verstappen
part 2
summary: after you and max broke up you released an album about it and when you go on tour, you didn't expected max to be there front row after being dragged by his new girlfriend's daughter
warnings: none
word count: 877
a/n: this is kinda told in max's pov (?, also heavily inspired on taylor's eras tour and i slightly changed the lyrics of the song to relate it a bit more to max
the tortured athletes department series
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the lights were out in the stadium but there was barely any darkness. the lights of flashes from phones and twinkling colored light bracelets illuminated the allegiance stadium in las vegas, every person there waiting for the one and only y/n y/l/n.
if you would’ve told max months ago that he was gonna be at her ex-girlfriend’s sold out concert the same weekend he was racing in vegas, he would’ve laughed in your face. but here he was, waiting with the other 69,000 people for her to show up on stage and sing all her hit songs, including the ones that she wrote about him after their breakup.
he had to remind himself that the only reason he was doing this was because of his new girlfriend's daughter, who begged them for weeks to take her to y/n’s concert or she would simply die. she was y/n’s biggest fan because, of course, karma had to do that to max. so there he was, in the vip section of the stadium without y/n’s knowledge, next to his new girlfriend and her daughter.
the lights on the bracelets turned off and the stadium went a bit darker than before, announcing the start of the show. when a huge clock on the stage came up and it reached the number zero, y/n came out singing the first song of the concert and the crowd went wild. max was immediately mesmerized by her. she hadn’t changed much since they broke up, that much he noticed, and she was as beautiful as ever.
he had to control himself not to sing along to her songs to not give his girlfriend a bad impression, even though her daughter was singing all her songs by heart. he just nodded and move along with the rhythm, avoiding the gaze of his girlfriend who was very well aware of her boyfriends history with the singer on stage.
y/n was singing her most famous songs and a few that were more lowkey, and when they reached the acoustic set of the concert, she was carrying a wide smile while playing a few keys on the piano. max smiled at the sight of her.
“hello, vegas!” she shouted at the microphone, making the whole stadium scream. “welcome to the acoustic set.” she smiled. “i’ve been meaning to sing different surprise songs every night, some that i haven’t played in a while, some others brand new. this one particularly is from my new album, i hope you enjoy it.”
max stopped breathing for a second. it was very well known with the public that y/n’s new album was about their breakup and she hadn’t sung any of those songs until tonight. he didn’t know what to do with himself or how to behave, so he simply crossed his arms and stood a bit further into the vip section. in the location he was he had a perfect view of her, but she hadn’t seen him all night.
soon enough y/n start singing one of the songs from the new album that max new for a fact was about him. he hadn’t listen to the whole album because he just didn’t want to relieve the breakup. in his defense he did try to give it a listen, but it was just to overwhelming for him so he had to stop listening mid-album, but this one he knew.
Lilac short skirt / The one that fits me like skin
max submerged himself in the lyrics and y/n’s incredibly familiar voice. only now she wasn’t singing just for him, but for thousands of people.
Whether I'm gonna be your wife or / Gonna smash up your car, I / Haven't decided yet / But I'm gonna get you back
a rebel smile appeared on his face, incapable of hiding how much she meant to him, how much he had missed her. seeing her there, singing her heart out on stage for a crowd of people who were crazy about her, god, how could he lost her?
I can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move / Push the reset button, we're becoming something new / Say you got somebody, I'll say, "I got someone too" / Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you
the smile on her face while singing the song she wrote made his smile even greater. he didn’t know the song fully like his girlfriend’s daughter, but he knew; he lived it, just as much as she did. in that moment in time, he felt connected to her in a level that no one in the stadium was.
I hear the whispers in your eyes / I'll make you wanna think twice / You'll find that you were never not mine / I'm gonna get you back
when the song finished, the multitude exploited in praise and y/n’s smile grew on her face. max completely forgot about everyone else and joined the crowd, screaming for her and applauding. y/n stood up from the piano and did a small bow before leaving the stage for her next set of songs.
it was as clear as day for max and it struck him like lightning. he was gonna get her back.
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theostrophywife · 6 months
Note
if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️
here (in your arms).
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.
author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.
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The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.
You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.
Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.
"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"
"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."
The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.
"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"
"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.
"There's a door there, amorina."
"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"
Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."
"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."
"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"
"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."
Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"
"You tricked me!"
"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"
"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."
"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."
"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."
A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."
"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."
Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.
"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."
"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.
"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."
"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."
"That's what I thought."
You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."
"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.
"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"
You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."
Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.
You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."
He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"
"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.
"Oh? Care to share?"
"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."
"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.
"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."
The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."
"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."
"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.
You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"
Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."
With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."
Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.
"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."
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Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar
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unclewaynemunson · 7 months
Text
"What. The. Fuck."
Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.
Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.
"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."
"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"
"Eddie, sit down."
"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"
"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."
"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.
"Then whose is she?"
"I told ya to sit down, Ed."
And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.
"Your dad was here earlier."
Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.
"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."
It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.
Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.
"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.
"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."
"Jesus Christ, what a mess."
"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."
Eddie swallows thickly.
"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."
Eddie nods.
"You wanna hold her?"
He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.
"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."
It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.
Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.
“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.
She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.
He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.
“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.
Wayne turns his head back to him.
“Bout what?”
“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”
Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.
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reiderwriter · 7 months
Text
Happily Ever After
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: You have a big fat crush on Spencer Reid. And now you have to share his clothes, his hotel room and his bed for one special night.
Warnings: Day 31 of Kinktober - The End, vanilla sex, love confessions, p in v, pretty softcore compared to the other stuff. Fluff.
A/N: We did it! It's literally halfway to December, but I finally finished all of the kinktober fics! Thank you, everyone, for coning with me on this amazing journey. Thank you for all your support for thesr 31 fics, I literally wouldn't have done it without you 💖
It was hard being hopelessly in love with your coworker. This was a fact that you'd learnt upon entering the BAU and meeting Doctor Spencer Reid. 
You'd never believed in love at first sight  and to be truthful, you were still a sceptic, but there was something about him that had you leaning in, eyes sparkling as you hung on his every word. 
If you were asked what exactly it was about him that you liked so much, you'd probably tie your tongue up trying to answer. 
Maybe it was his intelligence. Maybe it was the complete obliviousness that went along with it. 
It could have been the way he made sure to check in on you regularly, made sure you were managing the transition to the BAU well, and let you know that he'd be there to support you. 
It was probably also because of how goddamn attractive he was. You swore that he was walking around like the female lead in a 00s rom com - he just didn't know how hot he was. In fact, he was so oblivious that he still didn't reconcile the fact that ‘Pretty Boy’ was less an insulting nickname and more the cold, hard truth. 
You'd accidentally reminded him of that fact about a month into being deliriously into him. 
“Pretty Boy…? Hey, Spencer? Doctor Reid? Nothing…” Morgan sat on the edge of your desk as he called over to the man just opposite him, sitting completely still bar his hand that was racing across a page as he read furiously. 
“He's busy, Morgan. I'm sure if you just call his name Louder, he'll answer.” You sighed. Watching the two men quibble had become an interesting pastime, to say the least. 
“Spencer, the office is on fire. Spencer, Hotchner, is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Rossi is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Y/N is-” 
“Okay, that's enough,” you said, standing up from your desk and clearing your throat. You thought you'd just stand up and get Spencer’s attention the same way Derek had, projecting your voice just a little bit more.
“Pretty Boy.” As soon as the words fell from your lips, the man in question bolted upright, hitting his knee on the desk as he rose, locking eyes with you. 
“Yes, Y/N?” Almost as soon as he was upright, Morgan was in fits on the floor, partly from the reaction, partly from Spencer's self injury. When he turned back to you and noticed your red face, the laughing fit only doubled. 
Spencer joined you in perpetual embarrassment as Morgan slipped off, still laughing  but seemingly no longer interested in whatever it was he wanted Spencer for in the first place. 
“Y/N, did you need something?” He asked, clearing his throat as he sat down once again. 
“No! No, actually, Morgan… it doesn't matter.” You smiled politely and sat back down, quickly pulling some paperwork together to make yourself look busy. 
“Usually only Morgan calls me pretty boy.” He murmured from the other side of the desk  
“That's because it's the truth.” 
“What?” His eyes locked with yours as you suddenly realised he'd been talking to himself, not engaging you in further conversation. 
“I… well, I mean, he wouldn't say it if you weren't actually pretty, Spencer.” He looked at you for a second, then relaxed, smiling softly as he continued his reading. 
You could've sworn you heard a tiny thank you under his breath  but you just continued your work and tried to calm your heart rate down. 
After that, you made it your mission to out an arm's length between yourself and Spencer Reid. You were polite about it, of course, but you felt an awful lot like a teenager with a crush. Or maybe a pre-teen with a crush. Sometimes, to be honest, you were probably acting like a complete child. 
Fate, or Aaron Hotchner, had other plans for you, though. 
“If you can't make it, that's okay, but it's regulation to send two agents because of some prior interviews that have turned particularly violent.” He explained after he called you into his office. 
“JJ has Henry to take care of, same for Kate and her niece. Morgan has a trial tomorrow, so he's unavailable as well, so I really only have you and Reid to ask. Can you do it?” 
You weren't sure if it was some need to please the man in front of you as if you were his child who had scored badly on a pop quiz, or his perpetual state of exhaustion that had you giving in and nodding to the man, agreeing to five hours in a car with Spencer. But you did. 
The ride wasn't all that bad, to be honest. In typical Spencer fashion, he'd bought along a few audiobooks to listen to, so most of the time was filled with The Faerie Queene and the sleep that you'd fallen into after listening to The Faerie Queene. 
You couldn't fully escape conversation, though, and in between changing tapes, he started asking questions. 
“How are you liking the unit?" He asked casually, his eyes on the road as you turned to stare at him. 
“It's been good. The only downside is all of those field work fitness tests, though.” 
“Be glad that you had to do those before you joined us. Morgan decided to be helpful and train me and Penelope.” 
“That doesn't sound too bad,” you laughed at him as an honest frown coated his face.
“Have you seen the guy? He's like a walking weightlifting advertisement, I think he could bench press me. And it turned out that we didn't even need the training anyway.” 
“Wow, and you fell for it? I thought you were a super genius, Doctor Reid.” 
“Hey, that's discrimination. I can be very stupid, too. I contain multitudes.” You laughed and relaxed into the seat some more, memorising each detail of his face as you looked at him. There was a small awkward pause as he waited for you to say something else. Just as he made to turn and look at you, you straightened again and looked away before he could catch you. 
“I'd love to see those multitudes some day.” 
“I'd love to show you them.” 
After that, you'd sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out of the window so he couldn't see the effect his words had on you. 
You were thankful that the actual interview finished shortly, the death row inmate becoming rather chatty in his final days and gracious in the details he was willing to give out. The prison still put you on edge, though, so you were glad to have your gun back on your hip and fresh air in your lungs as you moved towards the car. 
You were just waiting for Spencer to get off the phone so you could get back on the road and into your comfy bed. 
“That was Hotch,” Spencer said, walking over. “We've got a case. We're closer than they are, so they want us to drive there and stay in the hotel for the night, and they'll see us tomorrow.” He smiled in sympathy as he watched your face fall. 
The stuttering of your heart was so loud that you almost couldn't hear his words. Surely, that didn't mean you had to spend the night with Spencer Reid? You didn't know if you'd actually survive that. 
“I-I don't have my overnight bag.” You said. 
“Hotch said JJ is picking it up. She'll pass it to you tomorrow.” 
“But it's winter, what am I going to wear tonight?” You practically whispered the words as your brain finished functioning once again. 
“I have something you can change into. Of that's okay with you, of course!” You didn't trust yourself to talk, so you just nodded at the man and climbed into the car, ready for him to take you to your home for the night. 
Fate didn't stop there, though. 
“There's been some kind of mistake,” you heard Spencer mumble as you walked up to the front desk behind him. You'd been sat on a sofa in the foyer waiting for him to return with your key and his when you realised he'd been taking too long. 
“What's the problem?” You asked as he turned around to look at you, running his hands through his hair in frustration. 
“They only booked one room.” 
“Sir, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take up the issue with your company. But there's only one room here in your name, and we're otherwise fully booked for the night. We had two weddings and an academic gathering this weekend. Guests are still trickling in and out.” 
“Okay, what about my name? Can you see if there's anything under Y/L/N?” 
“I already tried that. They have Hotchner down, but only from tomorrow.” His jaw tensed again as he turned to you. If you knew him better, you'd probably be able to recognise his nervousness. God, how you wished you knew him better. 
“It's one night?” You nodded and took the keys from the receptionist as you and Spencer walked towards the room you'd be sharing for the evening.
“Derek says I talk in my sleep, but that claim has never been substantiated with any real evidence. Also I prefer to sleep on the bed nearest to the window, is that okay?” Spencer rambled slightly awkwardly as you approached your new hotel room. 
You smiled at him and flexed your hand slightly, trying to reach out to comfort him but holding yourself back from the casual physical contact. 
“It's okay,” you said, grabbing the key card. “Let's go in.” 
If that day had taught you anything, it was to expect something else to go wrong. 
The room was wonderful, with a large window, a competent bathroom, surprisingly spacious for the usual FBI budget. There was, of course, only one bed.
“I'll take the sofa. It's right next to the window anyway.” 
“Spencer it's not a pull-out. You're never going to get any sleep on that thing.” You stood your ground, dumping Spencer’s bag and your own small purse on the sofa so he couldn't take up permanent residence there. 
You weren't sure why you were fighting so hard to get him in the same bed as you, knowing what effect it would have on you, but you didn't care to think about that right this second. 
“Okay, let's just get ready to sleep, and we can talk about it again.” He said, digging you out an old pair of sweatpants and a caltech jumper and gesturing for you to use the bathroom first. 
You quickly showered up and changed into the warm clothes. It was strange to be able to feel how much bigger than you he was since you'd never really considered it. 
Spencer was tall, but you weren't exactly petites, and yet here you were, getting swamped by his college sweatshirt. And you knew for a fact that he'd been practically a child still when he'd last graduated. 
“All yours, Spencer,” you said, walking from the bathroom and over to the bed where you'd left your phone on charge. 
He didn't say anything, but you noticed he'd stayed stuck to the spot and sat at the opposite end of the sofa reading a book. 
“Spencer? Did you hear me?” That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and he finally diverted his eyes away from you. 
“No pretty boy this time?” He pouted under his breath, but you laughed all the same, watching him grab similar garments from his bag again and travel to the bathroom.
You must've drifted off slightly between him going in and coming out, because when you woke, there he was again on the sofa. 
“Spencer? What are you doing? Get into bed.” You blinked your eyes a few times, rubbing away the sleep in them as you sat up. Spencer had sat up on the sofa, reading his book again, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. 
“I said I'm fine here, Y/N. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Sighing, you pushed yourself out of bed and walked around it to where Spencer was. 
“Spencer, you're like 6’4. This sofa couldn't even sleep a five year old comfortably, let alone all of you.” You slipped the book from his hand, shutting it and placing it on the side table. 
“I'm assuming you don't need a bookmark?” When he shook his head with a resigned sigh, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. 
“Y/N, are you sure?” 
“Spencer, you already gave up your clothes for me, I'm not letting you give up the bed, too.” 
“It's okay, I enjoyed giving up the clothes.” You couldn't really help the nervous goggle that slipped from your mouth at that statement. 
“Sorry, I just meant I'd-” 
“I know what you meant, Spencer. Let's just go to sleep now.” Grabbing his hand once again, you turned the main lights off, lamps lighting your way to the bed. 
Turning Spencer around, you gently shoved him onto the bed. Though, expecting him to let go of your hand, you'd planned that only he would land there. 
Instead, he doubled down on his grasp of your hand, and you fell with him, landing directly on top of him on the bed, mouths inches from each other. 
You paused there for a few moments, not sure what move was the right one to make. His hips shifted upward slightly, but that was all the movement you needed for you to settle over his crotch rather than his legs. 
“I'm sorry,” you whispered breathlessly as you felt every inch of him harden underneath you. 
“I'm not,” he said, eyes searching your face for god knows what. 
When he found it, though, he didn't hold back. His free hand slid up to the back of your head, slamming it down so your lips could lock together, a passionate joining that rid you of all the oxygen in your body. 
“Spencer,” you gasped between kisses as he worked his hand lower, both hands free to wrap tightly around your waist as he continued kissing you with a passion. 
“So beautiful,” he whispered as he finally pulled away again, holding you as close as he could before capturing your lips one more time.
Your head swam through the sensations blindly, both confused and considerably fused to him at the same time.
Spencer's lips, Spencer's hands, Spencer's everything pressed up against you as you sighed contentedly at his ministrations.
“Spencer… what are we doing?” 
“I don't know. I don't want to stop, though.” His lips matched yours furiously as he pushed his sweater off your body, whining slightly when he had to break contact to get it over your head.
His hands were instantly exploring your chest, grasping your body like it was his lifeline, as your hips rocked against his own. 
You knew you needed to stop this, and soon. Your body didn't agree. If you had sex with Spencer Reid right now, you knew there was no way in hell any other man would ever match up. 
“Spencer, stop.” 
To his credit, he did, hands dropping instantly as he created space between the two of you. Or as much as you'd allow, still sitting on top of him. 
“I'm sorry, I took advantage, I shouldn't have kissed you like th-” 
“I love you.” You blurted out, so desperate for him to shut up and listen to you. Which  again, to his credit, he did. 
“What?” He whispered, stars shining in his eyes.
“I told you to stop because I love you. If you don't feel the same way, that's okay, but I don't think I can do this if you don't.”
“You love me?” 
“Yes, I just said that. Aren't you supposed to have an eidetic memory?” 
“Individuals with eidetic memories often struggle with short-term memories, hanging onto older memories more vividly and recalling them faster.”
“So you want me to say it again?” 
“Over and over, preferably.” He said with a grin, flipping you over so your back was on the bed as he hovered over you. 
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your cheek. 
“Again.”
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your neck. 
“One more time,” he whispered, stroking your hair as he finally looked into your eyes. 
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your lips once again, holding nothing back as he poured all his joy into you. 
“I love you, too.” 
Your legs tangled together in a blur after that, both hopelessly breathing each other's oxygen. You were giggles and moans, whimpers, and confessions as you found yourself pushing down the covers and your pants so you could slide into bed. 
Neither of you stopped your confessions, still professing your love in each scrape of a nail, each lick, each bite. 
When he finally entered you, your eyes rolled back in pleasure, drunk on him and every reaction he was giving you. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he moaned. “I love how you feel wrapped around me.” His hips snapped softly into you, but he went deep, pushing in the entire way before even letting himself think of drawing himself out of that beautiful heat. 
“I love how reactive you are for me. I love seeing each of your emotions cross your face. I love how you called me pretty. I love how intelligent you are. I love you.” You were overcome with emotions as you finally felt pleasure wash over you, tingling through your body in ripples as he grunted into your ear, close as well. 
Wrapping your legs around him, you nuzzled into his neck and held him tight as he finally finished inside of you. 
You fell asleep like that in each others arms, clinging to each other for dear life. 
When you woke the next morning, it was with a start as you realised the sun was already awake. 
Spencer, however, wasn't, and you jolted up in a panic as you rolled him off of you. 
“Spencer, wake up, the others are going to be here any minute, it's 8:45.” 
“No, they're not,” he said, pulling you right back into his chest. 
“You said yesterday that they're coming today ready for the new case.”
“They started driving at 7am. Driving is going to take them 5 hours 34 minutes, give or take half an hour if there's an accident on the roads. We have plenty of time.”
You relaxed slightly into his hold, then feeling his warmth against you as he stirred slightly again. 
“Of course, we could always do something else to pass the time.” You opened one eye and turned back to face him as his hand traced down to the parting of your legs.
“Nice try, lover boy. If you're awake enough for that, you're awake enough to get started on the case.” 
“I preferred pretty boy,” he groaned but rolled away from you, as you both started getting ready for the day. 
Within half an hour, the two of you were up and ready to answer an incoming video call from Penelope Garcia. 
“Hello beautiful, how is upstate treating you?” She said as you picked up and beamed at her, somehow unable to control the happiness rolling off of you.
“It's been good,” you practically giggled, wiping a hand across your face as you attempted to clear away the grin there.
Spencer approached the laptop screen, too, greeting Penelope with a small squint as he looked down. 
“Hey, Penelope. Do you have the case details for us?” 
“I sent through the files to your emails, Hotch has a paper copy for you too, Reid, when he gets there. We've got a copycat or a resurfaced killer from the 80s. Rossi says the details are familiar to him, but he was going to ask you when he found you.” You both nodded and thanked her, but still, she didn't hang up. 
“So, one hotel room, how was that?” Penelope asked from the other side of the screen, eyes dancing between the both of you. 
“How did you…?” You squinted as Spencer hurriedly closed the laptop to the sounds of her laughing victoriously. Spencer's face flushed again as he brushed his hair out of his face, trying to discuss the files with you as he changed the topic almost expertly. 
“Stop. Spencer, how did she know about the hotel room?”
“Penelope books most of our hotel rooms.”
“Spencer, what aren't you telling me?” He shifted uncomfortably and looked at you in the eyes. 
“I may have asked her to book only one room.” 
“What? But the receptionist said-” 
“I slipped her a twenty before you came up.” 
“Why?” 
“I wanted to be closer to you. When Hotch said he had this interview, and he said he was sending you too, I was so excited to spend time with you, because you've been avoiding me, and I wanted to know what I did wrong so I could make it better, but I guess I didn't do anything wrong because you love me somehow, so I must have done something very very right to deserve that.” He was rambling, but you didn't stop him, smile spreading as you listened to his accidental declarations of love. 
“And then I had to beg Hotch to take this case next, because then we'd have an excuse to be alone longer if we were so close.” 
You tried to catch his attention then by calling his name, but he didn't listen, too intent on his confession. 
“I was going to tell you later today, once we were off work, I didn't want to say something in the middle of the case because that would've been unprofessional  and honestly I didn't want the others to hear because I want you all to myself.”
“I'm rambling, aren't I?” 
“Yes, God  just shut up and kiss me.” 
“You're not mad?” 
“I might have been if I weren't so damn in love with you. But lucky for you, I'm crazy for you.” He smiled at you again, pulling you in close for one more kiss. 
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celestemona · 3 months
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WHEN THEY’RE DADS
and how they deal with their children and domestic life. part ii.
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pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, alhaitham x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnancy is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read. a bit longer than the previous ones.
kazuha’s part | part. i
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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 Cyno
If there was something that the General Mahamatra valued beyond justice and absolute truth, it’d be the loyalty of those around him without asking for anything in return. Cyno could count on both hands the number of people he’d risk his life to or who’d have his back, and to be honest, there weren't many of them. Thus, the passing of the years only solidified this philosophy, confirming that trust wasn’t something to be given, but earned — it being the reason why he only kept a certain number of people close to him.
However, this belief had also shown Cyno that some priorities were greater than others, and ensuring your happiness and safety became the main one of them all. Especially when you were also the one carrying his babies.
Your pregnancy announcement was unexpected, but the change in your husband's personality wasn’t. As your belly grew, you could notice that Cyno became a little more clingy with you, enjoying being by your side or placing his warm hands on it to feel his children's kicks. Though, the mahamatra also couldn't help but be more overprotective or bossy towards you, traits that seemed to have intensified over the months. 
Cyno liked to think that his overprotectiveness was justified since not only had he become a first-time father but of twins. His bossy acts weren’t for nothing either. It was just because your husband knew you and your impulsiveness very well, so the slightest thought of the risks that you could put yourself out there of your own free will stressed him out already.
And this last one you seemed to do on purpose to test him since you had put yourself in critical situations more times than he wished to count.
So, to ease his worries and keep an eye on you, the decision to temporarily settle in Vila Aaru was mutually agreed, providing Cyno with a momentary sense of peace knowing that his very pregnant wife would be surrounded by competent and trustworthy people. And then, his children could be born in a comfortable and safe environment.
The decision couldn't have been the best because a few months later and just a few minutes apart, Aryan and Isaar were born on a cold night.
The leader of the Matras still can remember that it was when he was returning to the village from a patrol when he was greeted first by your painful screams and then by the sight of your sweaty and tearful figure. Your husband didn't think twice before taking Candace's place behind your back to give you the support you needed, sharing his strength with you and whispering comforting words in your ear.
Internally, Cyno felt more than terrified for this new stage in his life despite all the previous months of mental preparation. But as he watched in amazement Aryan in his arms and Isaar in yours, the mahamatra concluded that there were no books or scrolls in the world that could describe the feelings that coursed through his veins at that moment. There wasn't enough knowledge that could teach him how to be a father, and even so, he knew he’d learn along the way to be the best he could.
The first few weeks of adaptation were exhausting for both of you. Cyno was on leave from his position, being at yours and his babies disposal and dealing with most of the household tasks, which relieved you a lot. But if he ever thought that nothing would overcome the hardness of his work at Akademiya, the sleepless nights with his newborn twins proved him wrong. 
It wasn't something he complained about or refused to take on, though. He preferred you to rest as much as you could after spending the whole day with the children — it was more his lack of confidence in dealing with the little ones in your absence that tormented him.
As time went on, however, what he thought were difficult tasks became routine, so he could say with some confidence that he had adapted to fatherhood quite well. The bond between father and sons was also something that developed beautifully as the days went by, and some mornings, you’d be greeted with the sweet sight of the General Mahamatra sleeping on the armchair in the twins' room while holding both of them in his muscular arms.
Speaking of the twins, Aryan and Isaar couldn’t be as physically similar to Cyno more than they were already. The babies, just a few months old, have already demonstrated that they share the same personality with each other, which they also take after their father — the stoic and slightly indifferent expression frighteningly similar to Cyno. Aryan was a little more sullen, refusing to acknowledge others' attempts to make him smile while Isaar willingly raised his arms to familiar faces with the intention of getting something in return. 
While you watched them in disbelief, your husband smiled proudly. It seems his children were already good judges of character.
Strange in its own way, but a home full of love. That would be the phrase to define your family. Although both you had divergent methods of raising your children, the twins still had complete freedom of decision about what they judged to be right or wrong. Cyno would never punish his sons for their choices; instead, he’d wisely correct them. Even though outwardly he shows rigidity and authority, Cyno is quite soft when it comes to his family so he can't stay mad at you for long.
It was honestly a strange sight for many, mainly his subordinates and the scholars who knew the man's unorthodox methods of discipline very well.
Even so, they couldn’t help but admit that fatherhood suited him well. Strangely, but still.
They only feared the possibility that in the future the boys would develop a sense of humor as horrible as their father.
Kaveh
If they asked Kaveh what his greatest achievements are, he’d readily answer that there are three of them, although two had the greatest highlights.
Even if the architect was proud of the effort and dedication that led him to give life to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, the importance of the project seemed to be irrelevant compared to the fact that he managed to win you heart. After all, maybe there was nothing so disputed between men and women all around of Teyvat but to capture the attention of the Gem of Liyue. And in a way as ironic and simple as it seemed to be, Kaveh was the only one to be able to accomplish such a feat.
As the younger sister of the Tianquan of the Qixing, it wasn’t surprising that you were also known for your intelligence, elegance and beauty, so it was expected of your people that you’d marry someone with all these qualities and wealth that could satisfy your desires. 
However, they didn't know you as well as Ningguang and how Kaveh came to know you, and so, it was unexpected news that resonated for weeks when you announced your marriage.
At that time, so much uproar from the press and liyuean citizens had made Kaveh doubt himself because, well… did he even have all the means necessary to provide you with a comfortable life? He was slowly recovering from his debts and had barely started building his own house. Compared to you who literally lived in a mansion and ate from a golden platter he had nothing.
Nevertheless, you assured him that no gold or mora in the whole world could equal the love you had for him, only his reciprocal affection was what you were looking for.
And because your husband cares and loves you so deeply, Kaveh couldn't feel anything but thankfulness when you granted him with the greatest pride of his life. His daughter, Zahra.
The baby hadn't even been born and was already very adored by her father. During your pregnancy, Kaveh had been nothing but a passionate and devoted husband, helpful and attentive to both you and her. His passion for art led him to challenge himself and bring only the best when it comes to projecting Zahra's room, as well as designing the crib and its decorations. You couldn't help but watch with a smile on your face as he worked hard to provide only the best for his child.
When Zahra decided to come into the world, your husband's tearful, fascinated face only confirmed what you already knew: Kaveh would be an extraordinary father.
“I swear that I’ll protect you from all the cruelty of this world. And even if the day comes that I don't have the strength to do so, I’ll still keep you safe”, he promised as he placed a kiss on the baby's forehead.
You just smiled with equally teary eyes at the sweet scene.
Kaveh didn't know the meaning of the word tired when it came to his daughter. The blonde man loved having the baby in his arms, and when it came to her basic needs, he was a great help by proudly taking on the tasks. In fact, in the first weeks of Zahra's life, he had refused to let her sleep alone in her new room, and when you insisted on putting her in her crib, Kaveh would spend the entire night by her side. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his little princess in his absence.
You could just roll your eyes.
As Zahra grew up, she became an increasingly beautiful girl and was much loved by her parents. Her naturally rosy cheeks and golden hair decorated with barrettes or bows made people compare her to a doll. The girl has a beauty and features similar to her father, though her sweet and laughing personality is her own traits. Kaveh feared that one day the evil of the world would take away the melodious sounds of her laughter, but there was a slight mischievous gleam in her golden eyes that betrayed that she was quite clever too.
In addition to her parents' unconditional love, Zahra also has a close relationship with her mother's sister, who has a weak spot for her niece, and with her paternal grandmother. 
Shortly before marrying you, the older woman had tried to invest more in her son's life, now making sure of participating in dinners, commemorative dates or holidays.
For a long time Kaveh believed that he wasn’t worthy of such happiness. After his father's death and his mother's estrangement, the architect had a single objective: trying to survive one day at a time, fighting his own demons and relying on what little was left of his savings. He had never considered himself a man of honor, someone who was worthy of having his own family and a home to return to. In fact, he didn't consider himself a lucky man at all.
And yet, he couldn't feel as fortunate as he did because through all the paths he took and decisions he made, one of them led him to you and gave him the greatest achievements of his life.
Alhaitham
Hardly anyone would admit it out loud, but your presence in the halls of Akademiya was as fresh as a breath of spring air.
As the new Darshan teacher of Haravatat, your intelligence and passion for knowledge were characteristics that not only your students came to admire, but even the sages themselves gushed praise about, which eventually earned you a reputation that spread throughout the dendro nation. Furthermore, your beauty and charisma only complemented your charm, so there were many hearts that you had caught along the way — and consequently also have broken, as the slight bulge beneath your clothes and the golden ring shining on your left ring finger made it very clear who yours already belonged to.
To say that the beginning of your relationship with the Akademiya’s Scribe was even the subject of an academic thesis would be an understatement given that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who was known for his friendliness much less cordiality. In fact, his disinterested expression and acid humor worked precisely as a mechanism to purposefully keep people away from him, and even his friends weren’t immune to his unpleasant comments.
But even though the question remained, the students quickly learned that this attitude would never apply to you.
Like a moth drawn to the light, Alhaitham was equally drawn to you, they concluded. There was something about you that just your presence was enough to generate a small and not so noticeable change in Alhaitham's aura, even if to others he remained as rigid as he was. Besides, the progress of your pregnancy had also shown them that the scribe was as human as they were, he just had a less flashy way of showing his concern and care for his wife.
What the scholars and citizens of Sumeru saw, however, was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the affection you received from your husband when the doors to your home closed. Although Alhaitham hadn't shown his excitement as openly as you, the scribe was internally happy to begin a new stage of life by your side. And you could see this in the number of maternity books and notebooks with notes organized in his office, in the meals he had prepared meticulously thinking about nutritional values ​​or in the care he took to suggest and choose a simple and meaningful name for your baby.
His actions were small and discreet, but enough to prove to you that he already loved the child as much as you did.
Hakim's arrival into the world also showed you the efforts your husband would make for his son. With a smile gracing his lips and slightly teary eyes, Alhaitham allowed himself to express himself a little more in the face of such a beautiful moment. It wasn't something that even you saw frequently and, therefore, you’d certainly make sure to eternalizing the picture forever in your memory.
“Thank you”, was the only thing he could say to you while looking at you with enormous tenderness.
Despite the overwhelming happiness that coursed within him, the scribe also couldn't help but feel a little empty at his grandmother's absence. Even though the longing was something he had managed for a long time now, it was in moments like these that the lady's absence came back. He was sure she’d love meeting you and her great-grandson, but wherever she was, he also knew she was taking care of his family in her own way.
Furthermore, looking at you and the child that slept so peacefully in his arms, Alhaitham knew that there was nothing to fear and that his son would grow up in a home filled with as much love as he was.
Therefore, fatherhood wasn't something that scared Alhaitham nor did it make him doubt his ability to take care of his son. If someone asked him what his biggest challenges were, he wouldn't be able to think of any because every day he was faced with something new and learned from it. Plus, Hakim was a sweet and quiet baby, a mix of both parents' personalities. Understanding his child's needs was as easy as if they were his own.
Still so small, Hakim would be surrounded by reading and multiple knowledge, often being found in the arms of one of his parents while you were working or simply reading for pleasure. You discovered that the baby liked to listen to you or Alhaitham reading aloud, so it wasn't strange to find you or your husband somewhere in the house reciting some academic article with the little one within reach.
When the boy was old enough to sit up, that’d be the time when you’d return to teaching at Akademiya, and even if your baby's presence during classes had already been discussed and authorized, Alhaitham wouldn’t hesitate to take over his care — whether taking him to his own office or to the Sanctuary of Surasthana where he would spend hours enjoying the attention of Lesser Lord Kusanali.
You could say that Alhaitham is a simplistic man. He recognizes his flaws and knows that he came with many of them, which is why he distances himself from so many people. But it was in the moments when he returned home, returning to you and your son who were waiting for him with great enthusiasm that the man thought that there was nothing as perfect as his own home.
.
.
you guys will have to forgive me again but i did not beta-read this part (clearly) nor i'll have the patience to do so because i'm currently traveling at my granny's home and it's so hot here that i couldn't even write this whole headcanon without stop everytime to take a breath of fresh air. therefore, i won't have the patience to look for mistakes now. i'll let it with you tho.
also, i remember i've said in the last part that if perhaps i start to write a genshin dad series i'd write only for the first four man i came up the idea to. however, i'm hypocrital and slut for the sumeru men too so i couldn't stop myself but draft their children biography.
i really hope you've like it so far because, for real, alhaitham's part was the hardest one and somehow i feel like this isn’t good enough to be posted. nevertheless, thank you for your reading :)
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hawkinsbnbg · 1 month
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Steve was a ghost who haunted his best friend.
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
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"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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mariasont · 10 days
Text
Ideas From a Book - A.H
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a/n: im writing what i want !!!!!!!!!!!!! i have a gun kink SUE ME !!! if you don't like it don't read it !!!!!!!
anyhow HAPPY READING
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch comes home to find you reading and finds out you have a gun kink
warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot going on here yall idk, gun going in ur vag, reader loves smut she's just like me fr, gun kink!, dirty talk, established relationship, yada yada
wc: 2.3k
When Hotch returned home from work, the ritual he had was comforting in its predictability: shedding his coat and shoes, setting down his briefcase, and locking up his gun. Then, he'd find you, as he always did, nestled into the couch, book in hand. 
It was something he could count on, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning. Your bookshelf was a spectrum of genres--science fiction, poetry, mystery, historical, fantasy--name it, you've likely read it. Among these, he had noticed a trend--your favoritism for romance. It was fitting, as you've always been an ardent believer in fairytales and happy endings. It was a belief he intended to uphold, a fairytale ending he was set on creating for you. 
The book you held today had a cover he didn't recognize. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival. Your eyes met his in an instant, and he was struck anew by just how pretty you are. Effortlessly so. He told you as much, though you seldom accepted the compliment. 
"Hi, handsome," you said, infusing your words with honey as you folded the corner of your page and laid the book aside. Spencer would scold you for that. "How was work?"
A shrug rolled off his shoulders, fingers working to loosen the tie that felt like a noose after a long day. Stepping further into the living room, he sighed, "Heavy with paperwork."
"That's no fun," you said, lips curving into a delicate pout. 
It was an invitation he couldn't ignore. Leaning in, his hands found your face, and as your lips met, you giggled, pulling back just enough to study his face, the harsh lines under his eyes, reading the fatigue on his features like a well-thumbed novel. 
"What are you reading?" he questioned, easing down next to you, the couch dipping to his weight. 
You dodged his eyes, fingers absently fidgeting with your earlobe as you gave him a half-smile, tilting the book just enough so he couldn't catch the title.  
"Just some romance book," you admitted, with a slight uptick in your voice. "Garcia recommended it."
He regarded you with a contemplative frown. Normally, a book you would have gone on for hours, detailing every character, plot twist, and subplot, dissecting its layers and intricacies in exhaustive detail. 
Aaron watched as you placed the book on the side table, movements deliberate. You positioned yourself across his lip, a seemingly innocent distraction. It almost worked. Your soft thighs sinking into his calloused hands, as if they were crafted just for him. He recognized your ploy, though, giving your leg a squeeze a little tighter than necessary. 
You leaned in, your breath tinged with the minty traces of your afternoon tea, a detail as intimate as any secret shared between lovers. He nipped at your lip, a gentle diversion, as his hand crept towards the book.
You wriggled in his hold, vying to get there first, but he was faster. Much faster at that, although you loved to challenge him on that. He secretly loved when you did. He loved you. 
"What are you doing?" Your voice was rising in a panicked pitch. You stretched your hand out, trying to reclaim it, but he kept it just beyond reach.
Aaron's arm formed a band around you, effectively pinning your arms to your torso while you writhed within his grasp. A groan was stifled in his throat. "Quit that."
You smiled, a hint of tease in the curve of your lips and stilled. You were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it was a feat achieved with little effort. 
"Why are you being so secretive about this?"
He nodded to the book. The cover was unassuming, black with a smattering of designs that sprawled across it. It looked like any other book you read.
"I'm not being secretive," you insisted, deliberately avoiding his probing gaze. "You're just being nosy."
"Oh, am I?" He couldn't help but laugh, nose crinkling as he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.
You nodded, not saying anything in response. He thumbed through the book, opening it to a random page.
"Wait--," you pleaded, but his attention was already glued to the ink. You wrapped yourself around him, your face buried in the folds of his crisp dress shirt as you murmured into the fabric, "please don't."
His arm shifted from your waist to cradle the back of your neck. "Gasping at the cool metal of the gun running across my belly, I want him press it into my panties."
Your breath caught, warmth flooding your cheeks as you pressed your face deeper into his chest. "Aaron, stop."
But he didn't, of course, he was far too intrigued.
"Parting my legs, I roll into the metal. He runs it back and forth across my pussy, wetting it against the barrel to my entrance," He continued, wetting the pad of his thumb as he turned the page, eyes meeting yours. 
He cocked an eyebrow as if waiting for your response. You didn't give him one, huffing a sigh as you plucked the book from his hands and flung it onto the cushions of the couch.
"Are you...into this?" He articulated each word with deliberate slowness, as if navigating a minefield. "This is a little intense."
You groan, tucking your chin down to your chest as you fought against the tingling sensation clawing up your spine.
"I don't know." The words tumbled out in a murmur, a feeble shield against the embarrassment flooding your senses.
It was the truth. You didn't know. Ink on a page was a far cry from reality. Nonetheless, your recent daydreams were filled with images of Aaron with his gun. God, forbid you see him on duty.
He shifted you off his lap, and you felt the corners of your mouth turn downward involuntarily. You watched his retreating figure vanish down the hall, your thoughts racing at breakneck speed, gripped by the fear that you had scared him off, that this was his tipping point.
The welling tears were poised to fall, but they paused as he came back into view. Holding his gun.
Your breath halted, a knot forming in your throat as you clumsily rose to your knees on the couch, your eyes wide and transfixed on him.
You watched, more like ogled, as he methodically removed the magazine, opening the action and ejecting the cartridges of the gun, putting the safety into place. Your throat felt dry. His advance towards you was predatory, a slow march that rekindled a well-known flutter in your stomach.
"Aaron?"
He stepped in front of you, the firearm dangling loosely at his side. You gazed up at him, peering through the shelter of your lashes.
"Do you want me to fuck you with this?"
You knew you said you didn't know if this was something you were into, yet here you were, retracting every syllable. Suddenly so incredibly turned on it almost hurt.
You nodded vigorously, your enthusiasm outpacing your self-awareness.
The look he gave you was one you recognized instantly, eliciting yet another soft pout before you gave in. "Yes, please, Aaron."
"Good girl," he said, making your heart skip a beat as he pressed the nose of the gun into your chest, forcing you backward. "Always so good for me."
You nodded again, even though there was no need to, but you weren't really focused on his words. You were focused on the gun pressing into your body, imagining it pressed against your clit, up your pussy.
"You're sure, um," you managed, trying to catch your breath, pausing in the middle of your sentence to clear your throat, "that all the safety stuff is on?"
You sounded dumb, you were aware, but all intellectual thoughts were out the window.
He let out a deep chuckle, the sound sending another wave of desire straight to your core. "Yes, baby, all of the safety stuff is on."
"Okay, good."
He pressed his lips to yours, the gun still flush against your chest, now grazing your nipple as you arched into him.
He pulled back only enough to speak into your mouth. "What's your safe word?"
"Mercy."
He hummed in response, fingers threading through your hair as he pushed the barrel of the gun down your stomach. You froze, a subtle gap forming between your lips as your eyes remained locked on the motion.
He brought his mouth to your ear, nipping at the skin lightly as he pushed the metal further down your body, lifting the hem of your shirt with it. You gasped at the feeling, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you tried to hide just how affected you were.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes." It was immediate. Without hesitation.
He kissed your lips, gentle and unhurried, as if he was savoring the sensation, like he thought I might crumble under too much pressure. He might be right.
"Take these off."
His gun pressed against the waistband of your shorts. You didn't waste a second, lifting your hips and shimmying out of the fabric. A sound of approval vibrated from his throat, his fingers entwining in your hair, gently drawing your face closer to his.
"Are you sure about this?"
A nod came naturally, followed by a yes breathed out like a prayer, as your eyes trailed down to in between your thighs where the gun was now sitting. 
"Aaron, I need it."
"Oh, you need it, huh?" He tsked his tongue, running the nose of the gun over your clothed heat. "I can tell."
You let out a sharp gasp, bucking your hips into the device as you met his eyes, willing him to keep going. You had never been more turned on in your life. His hand moved from your neck to the small of your waist, pinning you in place. With one hand. Fuck.
He laid the gun beside your hip on the couch in order to pull your panties off. You squirmed at the rush of cold air encompassing between your thighs. His eyes were glued to your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips.
"Christ sweetheart," he hissed, sliding one finger through your slit, showing you the moisture you had produced. "Needy girl."
"Aaron, please." You needed something inside of you.
He laughed, at your expense, but you didn't care, concentrated on his hand grabbing the Glock and repeating the action his finger just did.
You choked out a sound, stuttering against the touch. He in a merciful mood apparently, pushing the gun slowly into your sopping cunt. You were writhing against it, your mouth parted as you tried to get used to the foreign object.
"You okay?" He asked, pausing his motions, giving you a second to adjust.
You swallowed; gaze drawn down to where he was sliding the gun into you. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Yes."
"You can take it," he said, but the way the firearm was stretching you made you unsure.
It wasn't the size necessarily, but the way the groves and magazine were cramming into you was making hold your breath, which him being him he noticed immediately.
His hand rested gently against the pouch of your stomach. "Breathe."
The pent-up breath escaped your lips, and he rewarded you by sinking the gun further into your pussy. You fingers wrapped around his biceps, the tips digging slightly into the constellation of freckled skin.
One final thrust and it was fully in you. You could feel every groove and contour of it, cunt clenching and unclenching at the sensation. 
"Look at you," he drawled, beginning to fuck you with it. It transcended the prose of any book, a sensation that no array of printed words could fully capture. "You like that?"
Nodding was your only recourse, mouth hanging pathetically open as you moaned and whined. You were in a daze-like state, every sound and motion involuntary.
"This is the Glock 17," he explained, thrusting the gun faster, causing you to tighten your hands around his neck, bringing him so close his words were melting into your skin. "It feeds from a staggered-column magazine that has a 17-round capacity. It sends 115 gr bullets downrange at about 1200 feet per second."
You could feel your arousal leaking to your thighs, coating his forearm in the process, but that would never stop him.
"This gun has taken the lives of nineteen unsubs."
You know this should make you coil away, that it should feel wrong somehow, but all you felt was that growing tightness in your core, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace.
"You don't even care, do you? All you care about is getting yourself off." His chuckles wove through his words, and his motions didn't falter, intent of ushering you to your peak. "My dirty girl."
You were so close, the edges of the gun managing to hit every spot just right.
"Come on, honey."
Fuck. You let out another strangled gasp, way louder than intended as your back arched like a string of a bow, and then suddenly you released.
A prism of colors exploded behind your squeezed eyes. A collage of musical notes falling over your ears. Your whole body was being ignited as you gushed around the gun.
"Christ." His new favorite word as of late. He withdrew the weapon from you.
You let out a subdued hum, propping yourself on your elbows, your eyes lazily rising to meet his with a tender flutter.
"You're so pretty," he murmured, the compliment settling on you like dew on morning flowers. Your gaze caught the gun, now bathed in a liquid gloss, cradled in his hands.
"Oh my god," you said, hand covering your mouth.
He laughed softly, placing it on the coffee table before his lips brushed against yours, a soft and measured caress that belied his previous urgency.
"You might need a new one," you said sheepishly, heat creeping into your ears as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.
"Absolutely not," he murmured into your flushed skin. "It just became my gun of choice."
You were going to give him the best head of his life.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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ferrstappen · 7 months
Text
primero llegó verstappen l MV1
a/n: MONACO by Bad Bunny. that's it that's the tweet. this isn't very long and its all over the place but I hope you like it <3
summary: Suddenly, Max isn't annoyed about being featured in a music video.
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Max couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror of a tent full of outfits, cameras and people moving from one place to another. In his mind he already did enough promo for the team, more than enough after being crowned World Champion for the third time and a huge contributor to the comfortable win of the Constructors Championship as well.
Maybe appearing in a music video was where he draw the line?
He wouldn't have an issue if it was him on his fireproofs doing a couple of laps in some closed circuits, maybe even some hot laps, but having to pose next to his RB19, wearing a faux leather jacket and showing one of his TAG Heuer Monaco Titan, because he was a walking billboard, was a little too much on his books, especially as a make up artist mixed different shades of some foundation, and Max was trying really hard not to take offense after he told him "his dark circles were incredibly hard to conceal".
Here he was doing favors and in return was being offended by his lack of sleep and naturally pale complexion.
He almost laughed after noticing Checo staring at himself in the mirror, the same confused and uncomfortable look on his face, and the same tight jacket as they contemplated the marina from above.
In conclusion, yes, this was well above his paycheck. Max also wouldn't deny he didn't thrill on the presence of paparazzi in quiet Monaco. granted, they were looking for the big star who was doing some shots around the city, walking hand in hand with his model girlfriend, but he could still make out some yelling for him and Checo.
Then, his day took a turn.
Some crew members wearing headphones and what he assumed were the assistants approached him and Checo, telling them this wouldn't take long since all they had to do was walk around the car, get in and out of the car, with and without the helmet, all while blasting the song.
A very catchy and good song that mentioned he was the first one to cross the finish line. At least he couldn't complain about that.
But he was internally complaining when, once again, he found himself on the make up chair with the same make up artist who had a problem with his dark circles, but this time the place was much different.
A sharp suit and this time a heavy Patek Philippe on his wrist as he walked inside the Casino of Monte Carlo. Now he was greeted by Bad Bunny himself, who thanked him many many times for being a part of this, and in return Max thanked him for even thinking of him for his song. They fell into a comfortable conversations about cars when the singer motioned for two girls to come over, one Max recognized as Kendall Jenner, the other he didn't know but was eager to.
"Max, this is mi novia, Kendall, and this is her friend (y/n). They're doing some stuff on the background, don't they look incredible?"
Max swore the designer dress you were wearing was painted on you, because there was no way it could fit so perfectly on your body, with a couple of stray hairs adorning your face and long eyelashes accentuating your eyes.
"It's so nice to meet you, I'm such a big fan of motorsport," you stretched your hand and it caught Max off guard, not really knowing what to do.
So he panicked and gave you a weird handshake before lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a kiss, and he had never felt more like a creep, but he noticed you blushing and a giggle leaving your lips.
You wanted to add something when the crew called everyone to start shooting, Benito and Kendall leading the way, and the only thing Max thought of doing was to offer you his arm which you gladly accepted.
The song was blasting as everyone pretended to talk and surround the roulette, but you and Max weren't pretending to laugh or to talk.
He even left Checo by himself, he'd forgive him eventually.
"I'm pretty sure the camera is on us in this moment," you told him through gritted teeth, trying to keep a perfect smile.
"What should we do?" Max asked, trying to hide his smile while doing his best to give you his best seductive stare.
You knew he was flirting with you and it was surprising. After seeing him on screens and social media you figured he'd be cocky, not having any trouble flirting with women every weekend on different countries, figuring out a way with foreign languages, but you never pictured him as a giddy, easily flushed, good for banter man, and the only thing you wanted was to leave this shoot and have him show you the city, dressed to the nines and maybe pretending to be cold in the end so he could put his jacket over your shoulders, and that way you could see him with just a white shirt and undone tie.
But you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, especially when you heard the director yell cut and tell you and Max to pay attention to the instructions, earning you the glare of everyone in the room.
"Ey, cabrón, que se están enamorando, déjalos solos!" Hey, they're falling in love, leave them alone. Those were Benito's words.
And God, was he right.
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shinjisdone · 11 months
Text
How I Imagine TWST Could Be If There Was A Female!MC
Had a bad day yesterday and just wanted to write some brainrot for myself
TW: MC/Reader is solely female here and will be main point talked about/focused on. Many mentions on bullying because you are a girl in an all-boys-academy.
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Little differences/somethings there would be I think if MC was female:
Since NRC is an all-boys-academy I think there might be some differences on how the MC might be treated.
Let's just pretend you are really the only girl there, for simplicity's sake.
Grim might feel indifferent OR is stupid enough to not get why being a girl in an all-boys-academy might be a big deal for everyone.
Crowley might go HMMMM how UnusUAL, I'm sure my schOOL isn't miXED....HMMMMM...pondering very deeply.
Oh, well. Who cares. Do his chores anyway.
Would give you the usual school uniform, might ask if you'd like a skirt or even maybe dig up some old skirts. Who knows, maybe NRC used to be mixed.
If you do want that, he'd make you -PSYCH! Of COURSE he'd tell Sam to buy you one. Size and length as well as style can be chosen by you, it just needs to fit with the rest of the uniform.
When barging into the ceremony I believe everyone would be too startled/beside themselves to notice. Grim is the nuisance having to be dealt with.
If there is anything you specifically need...Crowley will just throw it your way.
On your first day Ace might need a second to realize you are a girl. Uh, not only do you not know who the Great Sevens are but you are at the wrong school, too, idiot! Haha! What's a girlie doing here?
Shenanigans happen quickly and Deuce comes to the rescue!
Needs much longer to realize you are a girl. You speak your thanks and as he says it's no problem he - suddenly - clams - up. Oh. Oh. You...g-g-g-girl...? Female....? A womf...?
Blushes like crazy and can't get a peep out, still as a statue. Ace's yelling is what snaps him out of it.
When Ace asks you if he could stay the night since...he got cuffed...you are first like - hmmm. Hmmm.
ಠಿ_ಠ
Nah, nah, nah! It ain't like that! He's gonna sleep on the couch in the lounge! There is no other place and Ramshakle is as good as abandonded anyway. What, you just want some cat as company?
...What do u mean here are ghosts ಠ_ಠ
Trey would be like, oh. Hello. Um, well, I didn't expect you here.
Well, if the headmaster says so, please, feel welcome! Anyone and everyone is welcome to a tea party! (well, if it aligns with the rules...)
Cater might be more surprised. You are so cute! Like, don't take it the wrong way but he just...finds you cute! From the way you make your hair to how you get a unique outfit (if you choose to wear an uniform skirt), oh he wishes he could do it too! Unfortunately, he can't cuz well, uniform is UNIform...
Riddle is too preoccupied and pissy to even notice a new person in the room. He'd probably only notice you after his overblot is over.
Cue in a few days later and he comes to apologize and properly introduce himself. As you introduce yourself back he makes the silent note that you are actually a girl. Huh. This school is not mixed...and you being here certainly must break a rule somewhere...but...you don't seem so bad, so he'll just ignore it. He is the dormleader of Heartslabyul, not of the entirety of NRC.
All in all: Ace barely cares that you are a girl and would just throw his usual jokes and jabs. Would sometimes throw in some that have to do with you being female but those are never in ill will.
Deuce my beloved would at the beginning be very shy but grows used to you and proclaim you as his best friend anyway. Would sometimes forget you are a girl and catch himself in the act. Might feel sheepish or EXTREMELY embarrassed. When the topic of you being female comes up anywhere, no matter with whom, he gets flustered and shy regardless of how close you are.
Trey is the most indifferent but throws in some protective advice anyhow. As your senior and you as his junior, he has to look out for you and he takes you being the only girl in an all-boys-school in account as well while doing so.
Cater annooooooys you to hell and back about how cute you are. He just thinks girls have much more variety when it comes to styling and likes to show you new trends. He has sisters as well so he is more used hanging around girls, anyway.
Riddle is also indifferent but he catches himself often in situations where he focuses intently on you being female. Do you feel comfortable? Is anyone bullying you? That behaviour is unacceptable, so do tell him when something like that happens. Riddle tries to grow from his flaws but will gladly cuff someone's head for that anyday... Would also act more gentlemanly for you. Opens doors, tells Ace and Deuce to hold your books can't you see they are heavy, invites you over to tea parties and takes out the chair for you. A bit more reliant with you when it comes to rule-breaking.
Savanclaw issssss...a bit more attentive of you being female.
Jack is a million times x 100000 more protective of you. You are the only girl here and people here kinda suck are like twisted villains. What are you doing here?!
He has little siblings so he somewhat sees you as his third one (if you'd like that. Though he would never admit that...) and just asks and asks and asks if you are okay, if you need something.
Will walk you from class to your dorm or anywhere else you need to be even if he doesn't, no matter what.
10000000% tsundere. He's...not doing this cuz he's worried...or likes to take care of you.
Ruggie is confused??? On what??? you??? are??? doing here???
UH this is not a mixed school!!! Helloooo??? Does something go 'ding ding ding'! in your head or what?
Also protective, mostly because of his own siblings and that he thinks you are naive. People that are different in any regard are unfortunately easy targets for others. This school won't be easy for you he already knows. So he might as well help out instead of being another troublemaker for you.
While he helps out he is also kinda wary of you??? Women in his home are uh, intimidating and if you have been doing good so far, you surely are, well, at least something that he doesn't want to mess with. Better stay on your good side, even IF you are a more gentle and meek one.
Leona issss....weird?
Makes fun of you but makes sure you aren't messed with at the same time? Tsundere that drank respect women juice.
Don't hang around him, don't bother him...but also stay out of trouble, if someone bothers you, tell them Leona sent you.
Softer around you and while he does tease you, he never really disrespects you. Distant but not cold.
Azul is intriguied but perhaps wouldn't care too much - unless he can make a deal out of this.
Aren't you tired getting all of this attention? You are magicless and the only girl to boot! Azul can help you...just sign here.
Might try to win your favor by being a suck-up gentleman by calling you Miss (Name). How are you today? Need any help?
Only if you can offer anything useful to him. Like, no offense but you're magicless...and unfortunately not as stupid as ADeuce.
Besides, his gentlemanly acts aren't as genuine as Riddle's.
Floyd has a 50/50 chance of not caring a bit or straight up interested in you because you are female.
Either: Huh? So what, you are just another plankton.
Or: Huh? A fishie swimming against the stream? What's a girl doing here?
However, if you are not interesting enough expect his interest to go down the drain.
If you heavily react to being picked on because you are girl, don't show it. Otherwise Floyd will exploit it like crazy. Will mention how lonely it might be to be the only girl, will pull on your hair, might switch between Shrimpy and Miss Shrimpy or straight up call you girlie or lassie. Kind of a bully but likes you nonethless if you are interesting.
Jade will increase his gentlemanly behaviour 100%!
Is more intrigued by you than Floyd. Oya, oya, what do we have here?
More keen on calling you miss or whatever you prefer and treats you quite nicely, almost like a princess, especially if you are regular at Monstro Longue.
Just as teasing as his brother but more consistent with it. Likes to mess with you but acts less roudy than Floyd but there is still...a certain air to him that makes him even more unbearable than his twin. A weird mix of looking down at you and treating you like you are special.
KALIIMMMM
A good boy 100%. Stupid enough or rather oblivious to notice that you are indeed the only girl here!
Nothing would change to how he treats you honestly. A good guy, a real champ. Is definitely gonna give you nicknames however if you are sweet to him, ending your name with the honorific '-chan' and you cannot convince me otherwise.
Can be very stupid about how your situation might affect you. Treats it like nothing's wrong, cuz there IS nothing wrong!
JAMILLLL
Kinda confused as well? Well, you've been here long enough and are surrounded by good friends so he takes it you are or will be fine.
Still, be careful, okay? There are some meanies out here...he's not saying it out of worry, it is common sense.
Might keep an extra eye out for you but if nothing happens, he'll stop. His priority is Kalim and if you are okay, then everything else is okay, too.
Will tell Kalim to stop being so unaware of your situation. Show a bit of decency, try to see it from her perspective. You are magicless as well so things are sure to be difficult.
Might also ask Ace on how you are doing to get a third party's perspective of things during basketball training. Just as pre-information, nothing more...
Will definietly not ask Floyd. He knows how he is and if the topic turns to be about you and he hears it, he gets all "Heeee, you're talkin' about Shrimpy????"
It's annoying. It's even more annoying how much Floyd wants to annoy you.
Might think of his sister when he sees you and remembers to write to her a bit more frequently.
Epel: "Wait, you are a girl for real?! I thought yer just looked like one, like me! ...O-Or pretended to be one, maybe, I think..."
Squints his eyes reaaaal hard to really identify you. You sure you're a girl? And not just...a pretty boy like him?
Hm, ah shucks. Kinda hoped he might find another cursed soul like him. Well, at least you get it when people treat you a certain way just because of your looks.
Might have an easier time to show you his true self when speaking since you might either see through him easily or because he just knows he doesn't need to pretend in front of you.
He has a feeling you get it.
And when you agree and tell him how cool he is? Aquired yourself immediately a fierce friend (or crush, he kinda liked it when you called him cool...)
Hell, yeah, you get it!
Does actively NOT treat you with you being female in mind. You're one of the boyz. Doesn't want you to feel any different or casted out.
Got your back like crazy. He finds himself feeling more confident around you and will defend you like nothing else. So what if you are a magicless girl?! You're hella cool yourself!
Will call you cool and not cute, even if it isn't accurate.
The most annoying for sure is Rook.
The guy is a romantic at heart and believes it is fate that you came here.
You aren't an outcast! No, you are like a chosen hero! A princess around 22 twisted villains~ How exciting! Doesn't it make your heart beat faster?!
'Mademoiselle' is thrown at you constantlyyyy. The moment you hear the word you know Rook is around the corner, watching you. Weirdly nice and romantic towards you. He truly does believe you being in NRC is something special. He cannot help but gush about it!
When it comes to special events, he offers to prepare you for it with outfits or make-up. He's creative and sees you as his canvas and believes that no matter will be done or not, you will look beautiful! 100 points!
Vil is *sucks in breath* quick to criticize.
Doesn't truly care...but if you show the slightest bit of interest in fashion and beauty, hooh boy will he be watching.
Means to help but is, uh...mean. So, so, so mean.
But other than that...I don't think he'd care? HE is the fairest of them all...and you are just a potato.
Huh? Oh no, is this some shojo manga and you are the heroine getting a reverse harem or somethin'?
Idia is...weirded out but as long as he doesn't have to deal with you, he'll be fine.
Until you start getting involved in these overblots and...everything turns out okay? Like in a happy ending of a fairytale?
OMG are you a heroine?
No, he doesn't wanna be part of your harem!
Maaaaybe a bit more shy but just maybe. Will avoid you just as he does to everyone.
When in a good and braver mood, will call you 'heroine' when some 'anime shenanigans' happen as he calls them. If you're confused, will scream internally out of embarassment but also HOW COULD U NOT KNOW THAT TERM U NORMIE
Might call you that more often to mess with you.
Orhto kinda...won't care?
Probably scans you on your first meeting and goes 'yep, indeed f for female'.
As long as you are nice to his brother, all is good. Hey, be his friend too, while you're add it! Pretty please?
Malleus wouldn't care either. You being a magicless girl in NRC is quite curious and he will ask you about that...but no matter what your answer might be, he will listen, maybe take it to heart and set it aside, here and there. He doesn't care much for it.
As long as your bravery and willingness to be his friend remains, he won't ever make a fuss about it. Just be you.
During your meeting he might ask, "Oh? Are you perhaps a witch with a fitting black cat living here now in this abandonded house with a few ghostly roommates? Heh, I jest."
No matter what, you will still be his Child of Man.
If you do end up having trouble in school because you are a girl, he might go to Lilia for advice. He never had to deal with something like this before...shall he burn these bullies to crisps for making you school life difficult?
Lilia secretly agrees but tells him not to.
Other than that, same old Tsunotarou.
Lilia would go like "oh!" and that's it.
Curious, this is unusual for NRC but he is always happy and excited when changes happen.
Like the old man that he is he offers you his advice and help in anything. Even if he is an ancient fae, he is also your senior, so go ahead and ask him, alright?
Will also call you something endearing like Kalim and Rook. Adds the honorific '-chan' to you, definitely.
Very glad you are Malleus' friend, for that you automatically earned his protection. Just call when something's up, k?
Silver first needs to wake up.
huh????? zzz...
Wait, let him wake up...
Still a bit more.
There we go. Now that he is fully awake he realizes you are a girl.
Still somewhat in his dream lands, might wake up and say, "Wait, I didn't dream about a princess...or did I?" when he sees you.
Sometimes he does not fully realize its you when he freshly woke up. Needs to blink away the weariness before he goes "oh."
A tad bit more worried about you than his old man. Anything could happen and while you are in good hands not Crowley Silver sometimes tends to think about your happiness and safety here at NRC. You doing okay with the lessons? The teachers? The classmates? He's willing to offer his protection too, you know.
Perhaps its a knight thing to protect the maidens or smth, i dunno.
HUMAAAN!!!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! THIS IS N R C, SILLY! AN ALL-BOYS-ACADEMY! THERE'S NO 'F' IN THAT!
BUT THERE WILL BE ON YOUR MARKS SINCE YOU SUCK SO MUCH!
A meanie, especially at the beginning since he doesn't believe you belong here.
Magicless at a magic school? Failure.
Female at an all-boys-school? Unaccaptable.
nOT WaKA-SAmA????? A DISGRACE
He will warm up to you though...it takes time. Protective as Silver but not as subtle.
Idiot will scream HOW OF COURSE YOU NEED HIS HELP YOU ARE THE ONLY GIRL HERE! HOW MANY HAVE ALREADY MOCKED YOU, HUH?! CUZ HE CAN PROBABLY COUNT HOW MANY TIMES BUT WOULD NEED 20 HANDS FOR THAT!
Means well but...obnoxious.
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writingroom21 · 1 month
Text
Husband?
Pairing: bf Rafe x fem reader
Summary: Seeing a new TikTok trend you try it out on you boyfriend Rafe
Warnings: None, fluff, established relationship
Wc: 660
Scrolling on TikTok you lay in the hammock in your backyard. It was a nice day out, not being too hot, enough to keep you comfortable as you lay still. Rafe is supposed to be coming over, his text stating the two of you need to go on a date. It was sweet how he tries to make time with you.
He was never good with relationships, usually just sticking to hooking up or having a short lived romance. There was no need to for him to have a girlfriend when he had plenty girls throwing themselves at him. That all changed once you came into the picture, kicking his world off its axis.
Once he saw you yelling at a boy that was hitting on you at his party he was hooked. He wanted to get to know you, needing to get a taste of the fire behind your eyes. You didn't make things easy for him, stringing him along for weeks before giving him the time of day. What was supposed to be a fun hookup for him turned into something deeper. He was obsessed never wanting to let you go, good thing you felt the same.
As you keep scrolling a TikTok of a couple catches your attention. They are sitting on a couch, the boyfriend watching tv as the girlfriend records them. "So I was just out with my husband and" "YOUR HUSBAND?" his outburst making you laugh as he blushes before kissing the girl. It was a cute video, it made you curious on how Rafe would react to you calling him your husband.
A text pings on your phone, covering the top of the video. Baby boy: I'm here pretty girl. The nickname heats your cheeks, still having the same effect on you as if it was the first time hearing it. You shoot back a text telling him you were coming.
Rafe's standing by the passenger door waiting for you, smiling once he sees you come around the corner, closing the backyard gate. You jog over to him, jumping into his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, placing a sweet his to his lips. "Well hello to you too gorgeous."
"Hi." you giggle, getting into the open door he held, buckling up as he closes it. He rounds the corner getting in, his hand finding its rightful place on your thigh. Your sundress giving his access to the exposed flesh, giving it a squeeze before pulling out the driveway.
"Where are we going." You ask looking out the window to feel the breeze on your face. "Thought we could go to that field we found and have a picnic." His head tilting to the back to show the basket and blanket in the backseat. "Sounds perfect." Conversation stalling as you both enjoy just being in the same space. Only breaking the silence to talk about your days.
Reaching the field you both exist the truck, grabbing the materials and finding a spot to set up. The food spread out along the blanket, wine being poured into the glassed he brought along. This was the perfect time to execute your plan.
You take your phone and open up TikTok, cuing the video, please the phone in front of you two. You start the video grabbing the glass Rafe is handing over to you. "Alright guys my husband decided to take me on this cute picnic date. Look at all of the things he brought." You look over at Rafe seeing the smile gracing his face
"Fuck yeah I am. About time you noticed." He responded, taking his family ring off, grabbing you hand to slide it on your thumb. It's the only finger that it will fit on. "Now everyone will know” lifting your hand he places a kiss on your ring finger. A promise that one day there'll be a ring there.
Yeah you would say that the trend was a success.
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golden-cherry · 7 months
Text
deal - cl16 (18/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Canned soup always works wonders.
Warnings: cliffhanger (whoopsie), angst (duh), Lando is a cutie, swear words
Word Count: 3.6k
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A/N: not 10k words, but I did my absolute best. thanks for always having my back. I love you.
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 "Fuck!" You cross your arms in front of your face and exhale deeply. "FUCK!"
How hard can it be to find an apartment in the south of France? An apartment that has a shower, a bed, and a stove top? A window would be ideal, too, but you have to cut back somewhere, after all. But even a single room in a shared apartment costs almost 2,000€ - how much do you have to pay for an apartment where your privacy is not disturbed?
Although that didn't bother you much in this apartment either. After all, you even shared the only bed with Charles. Voluntarily. The longer you think about it, the worse your headache gets.
After slamming the door in his face yesterday and then wallowing in your misery for hours, you decided to tackle the apartment hunt this morning. You don't want to spend a second longer than necessary in these four walls, which is why you briefly considered asking Kika if you could move in with her and Pierre at short notice and only for a short period of time.
But then you would also have to explain what happened. And since both of them are Charles' friends first and foremost, you don't want to get in the way, even though he's been acting like a huge asshole.
Meanwhile, you're neither sad nor angry - you're just disappointed.
Of him, because he's gone to so much lengths in the last few days to make you feel at home in his company and presence. He showed you the place that is most important to him, told you about his father and showed you his vulnerable side. He has indirectly supported you financially by getting Joris to pay you back and waiving the accruing rent. By God, he even took you to dinner with his friends so you could meet them because he thought "you'd fit in quite well."
And then he ditches you, showing his coldest, rudest, nastiest side by using what your last relationship failed at against you.
But you are even more disappointed in yourself. There has been absolutely no reason why you should trust Charles so much after such a short time. You told him about Raphael, that he left you because you wouldn't sleep with him, and that he cheated on you. You took his compliments without even a thought as to whether he meant them. You had even had a fucking - hot - sex dream with him. 
You trusted him blindly. And that's getting back at you now.
Lounging lazily on the couch and looking at apartments that are definitely beyond your budget isn't an approach to making you feel better either, so you decide to pack your suitcase already.
If you can't find a place to stay in a hurry, you'd move to a hotel first. Or a hostel. You wouldn't have any privacy there, but at least they are so cheap that you could stay there longer and thus have more time to look for something reasonable.
And anything is better than staying here.
You open the suitcase you've kept in the closet for months, spread it out on the bed, and start putting your clothes in it. Sweaters, jeans, gym clothes, underwear - the stuff you don't want to leave home without. When it's filled and locked, you put it next to the door of your room. But only to realize that your whole life doesn't fit into one suitcase.
You put your hands on your hips. 
You still have a few days before Charles returns. Theoretically, you would still have enough time to get another suitcase, because you haven't packed your shoes or bathroom utensils yet. And you can only fit a few things into your gym bag.
A ping sounds from the living room, and as you poke your head into the room, you see your cell phone light up on the coffee table. You pick it up to read the message.
Lando: Hi. I wanted to check in and see if you're feeling a little better today. Been worried about you all night.
You're chewing on the inside of your cheek.
Yesterday at noon you sent a message to Lando saying that you were feeling unwell and so unfortunately you couldn't go out with him. Aside from the fact that your eyes were swollen from crying and no ice cube in the world could have helped you with that, it didn't feel right to have dinner with him.
Charles had thrown it at you that Lando only wanted to go out with you to get you into bed. How much truth there was to that, you don't know. After all, Charles said some things that hurt you. But whether you can take them at face value is another matter.
Charles has known the Brit for much longer and, above all, better than you. And the way he has courted and flirted with you since you first met, there may be some truth in Charles' words.
But even if there were, Charles has no right to judge. To judge how you handle the matter, whether you like going out with Lando or not. And if you were to go out with him, it could be on a purely friendly basis. Maybe you would have dated and immediately realized that you would be better off as friends. 
But you can't find that out now without worry. Now that Charles has hurt you so much and pushed you away. His words are burned into your mind, which is why you answer Lando carefully.
You: I'm feeling better already, thank you. I'm sorry I had to cancel our dinner.
His reply comes immediately.
Lando: You don't need to apologize. I'm just relieved that you're feeling better. Have you eaten anything today?
As if on cue, your stomach is growling. Yesterday your mood was so low that you lost your appetite and, apart from a few cornflakes, you couldn't choke down anything. And that's exactly what you answer him. 
Lando: All right. Give me half an hour and then I'll be with you, okay?
Indecisive, you type a reply, delete it, and start again. Does it make sense to let Lando into the apartment while you're in the process of packing your bags? If that's exactly what Charles was addressing?
Charles can go to hell.
You merely give Lando a thumbs-up in response before putting your phone aside and going to the bathroom to get ready for a bit. You may not care how you look right now, but you still don't want Lando to think the worst of you. You comb your hair, wash your face, and slip into more appropriate clothes than your sleeping clothes before cleaning up the living room a bit.
When the doorbell rings, you flinch. 
You open the apartment door and a smiling Lando stands in front of it. He is wearing a black sweater with a zipper on the collar and black sweatpants. In his hand he holds a white bag.
"I didn't know which canned soup was your favorite. And that's why," he raises the bag next to his face, "I brought a selection." Grinning, he pushes past you and enters. 
You close the door behind him. "You didn't have to do that."
As if it were a matter of course and as if he were here every day, he takes off his white sneakers and heads toward the kitchen, which of course he finds immediately because of the size of the apartment, and takes the cans out of the bag. "I know," he replies to you, setting the soups side by side before turning to you and resting his hands behind him on the edge of the counter. "But I'm someone who cares about his friends when they're miserable. So," he rubs his hands together. "which soup do you want to try first?"
The selection the Brit brought with him is limited to chicken, beef or vegetables, with the picture on the can of the former looking the most appealing. While he heats the soup in a small pot on the stove, you sit at the dining table and watch him. 
"May I ask why you weren't feeling well yesterday?" he asks, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the soup.
Indecisively, you look at him. 
Lando is Charles' friend. And you don't want to tell him about how Charles treated you yesterday any more than you want to tell Kika or Pierre. Because even though he hurt you so much, you don't want his friends to think badly of him. 
Lando hands you a bowl of soup before sitting down across from you in the seat that actually belongs to Charles. An image flashes before your eyes of you eating croissants for breakfast with your roommate. Sitting across from each other, eating pasta, even though you've only known each other for half an hour.
You barely noticeably shake your head to get rid of the image. A movement that Lando takes as an answer to his question. 
"Okay. But if you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you."
You smile at him. It's the exact same phrase Charles said to you in the most beautiful place in Monaco when you were feeling so bad about Raphael's call. It feels like a lifetime ago. 
"Thank you," you reply to Lando. "I really appreciate that."
As you comfortably spoon up your soup in a slightly better mood, the Brit tells you about his plans for the coming Christmas. He wants to fly back to England to be with his parents and siblings. He shows you pictures of his niece Mila, who steals the show in every photo, but you can't blame her with the chubby cheeks. 
"I can't wait to see everyone again," Lando says as he puts his phone in his back pocket. "Are you spending Christmas with your family, too?"
You shake your head. "Nope, I'm staying here." 
Lando looks at you, confused. "Alone? What about Charles? He'd take you to see his family for sure."
He would. In fact, he offered when the two of you sat at Jori's dinner table a few days ago. You remember how the two of them joked around, even though Charles had been busting his best friend's chops just minutes before. You thought that you wouldn't do anything that would risk that friendship. 
A thought you had often. 
"Where is he, anyway?" asks Lando, stretching to be able to see the rest of the apartment from where he's sitting, which isn't difficult when the apartment itself isn't particularly much bigger than a shoebox. 
You look into the empty bowl you're clutching tightly. "He has meetings in Italy," you reply curtly, setting it on the table in front of you before pulling your knees up to your chest. 
Your friend raises an eyebrow. "Are you going there too?" As you shake your head in confusion, he points to a spot behind you with a nod of his head. "I'm just asking because there's a suitcase there."
As you turn around, you immediately realize what Lando means. You've left the bedroom door open, and from where he's sitting, he has a perfect view of the doorstep. Right to where your suitcase is. 
"It's not for that," you reply. 
"What for then?"
You stand up to stall some time, and to avoid looking Lando in the eye. You rinse the bowl slowly, hoping you'll think of another good excuse to give him. But you don't want to lie to him either. After all, Lando doesn't deserve that. 
And that's why you don't say anything as you reach for the kitchen towel to dry the bowl. You rub over each spot at least three times, and even though it's already completely dry, you keep wiping over it. 
When you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder, you wince. 
"What did he do?" Lando's voice is calm and gentle as he takes the bowl and cloth from your hand and sets both down on the countertop. 
"Nothing," you reply curtly, and are about to grab a glass from the cabinet when his large hand clasps yours and stops you in your tracks. 
"Come on, Y/N." Lando pulls lightly on your hand to make you turn in his direction. You keep your head lowered, however. 
If you were looking at him right now - you just can't lie to him.
"I know Charles," he says softly, before placing his index finger under your chin and lifting it to make you look at him. When you look into his worried blue eyes, you've lost the fight. "What did he do?"
You can't stop the tears that gather in the corners of your eyes. Nor can you stop them from rolling down your cheeks as you try to blink them away. Lando thinking badly of his monegasque friend is the last thing you want. 
But if you move away from here, you certainly won't see Lando again either. And then, theoretically, you may as well not care what he thinks of his friend. And after all, it's not like Charles didn't deserve it, the way he treated you. Charles brought it on himself. 
You tell Lando everything. 
You start with the fact that Raphael cheated on you and dumped you. That you lost your job a few days ago and Charles was suddenly standing in your - his - apartment. You tell him about your agreement to share the apartment because he still lets his ex-girlfriend live in his first apartment and that after four days he grew so close to your heart that it made you dizzy. 
You tell him about Raphael waiting for you in front of the apartment on the day of the dinner with your friends, and that's why you had to spend the night at Kika's, and that Charles called you in a panic and after that you shared the bed for the first time. How you were so unsure about your feelings, because Charles is Charles, and that he had you completely wrapped around his little finger, even though you've only known each other for a few days. 
You tell him about yesterday morning. What he threw at you, even though he knew exactly how much it would hurt you. How he talked about his own friend to make you feel even more insecure. And you tell him that you told Charles that you were going to move out. 
Lando stays silent the whole time, but doesn't take his eyes off you. His eyes follow every tear that drips from your chin onto your sweater, and in between he gently squeezes your hand as a sign that he's following your story. 
When you fall silent, he says nothing at first, but pulls you toward the living room, where he places you both on the couch. You worry that you've told him too much, gone a giant step too far, but it all just poured out of you and you couldn't stop the torrent of words. 
But Lando doesn't seem to be angry with you. Quite the opposite. His gaze seems softer as you look at him. "I'd like to offer you the guest room in my apartment," he finally says. "But I don't think you'd accept the offer."
You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "I think it would be best if I just moved away. There's nothing keeping me here. No job, no responsibilities. I can go anywhere." You wrench your arms in the air. "Maybe I'll get a job in the United States. Or in Australia. Just really far away from here."
"That would be a possibility, of course," Lando replies. "But that can't be what you really want, can it?"
Puzzled, you tilt your head. "Why not?"
Lando leans against the back of the sofa. "You could have moved away when you were fired. Or when Raphael dumped you. But you stayed."
You shrug helplessly. "But now I have a reason to leave."
"Do you?" he asks. 
"Obviously."
"Then why didn't you tell me everything yesterday? Or when I was just outside your door? Or warming up your soup?" he counters. You don't like the direction this conversation is taking. "You could have told me all about it right away. But you didn't, because you didn't want me to think badly of Charles."
You shrug, trying to express your indifference towards your still-roommate. But Lando isn't buying it. Not one bit of it. 
"Come on, Y/N. You can't tell me you don't care about him at all. If you did, you wouldn't be so upset by all this that you'd want to leave the country. And then you wouldn't have tried to protect him in the first place."
You hate that he's right.
"I didn't realize you were so emotionally mature," you reply to him, slightly flippantly, and no sooner have you said it than you're sorry. "Sorry. You're not the person I'm mad at." You pucker your mouth into a thin line. "Are you mad at him? At Charles?"
Lando shrugs. "I'm not thrilled, of course, that a friend of mine would talk about me that way. Especially since he knows none of it is true," he explains. "Charles is good at pushing people away who mean something to him. I just don't know if he's doing it to protect the person or himself."
"Definitely himself." You shake your head. "You don't do something like that to protect someone! That's complete bullshit!"
"Are you sure about that?" Lando rubs his palm over his cheek. "Weren't you planning on sleeping on the couch and breaking your deal?"
You raise your index finger. "Nuh-uh. That was to protect myself."
"So you haven't been telling yourself the last few days that a friendship between you is better? After all, your ex cheated on you and left you because you wouldn't sleep with him. You got fired, Y/N. Your emotional baggage is higher than the Eiffel Tower." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "You know I don't mean that in a bad way, or to hurt you. But I'm sure you're trying to protect not only your heart, but Charles' heart as well."
You feel tears welling up in your eyes again. But this time you don't even try to stop them. "He deserves someone better. Someone who won't lie to him. Someone who doesn't carry around so much baggage." You shake your head slightly and wrinkle your nose. "He deserves someone great."
Lando's hand moves from your shoulder down their arm until he can intertwine his fingers with yours. He squeezes them gently. "I know someone who's been hurt so much, but still sees the good in people." He smiles at you. "I don't know anyone more great than you."
Lando stays with you for the rest of the evening, trying to distract you, which he clearly succeeds at with the miserable rounds of Uno in which he cheated at least twelve times. As you part with a tight, friendly hug, he presses a kiss to your cheek.
"You're still allowed to be mad at Charles. What he did is absolute bullshit," he says as he slips on his shoes. "But wait a little while before you move out. Maybe he'll come crawling back and apologize. Besides, for selfish reasons, I don't want you to move to the United States. Or Australia. Or anywhere else." He gives you one last squeeze. "If you need anything, call me. I'll be right over."
"I know," you smile, "and thanks again for the soups." 
He raises his index and middle fingers to his temple, a joking goodbye. "You're always welcome. See you around. Here in Monaco."
You close the door behind him and actually feel a lot better. Lando's presence was comforting and warm, and he's someone you definitely wouldn't want to miss as a friend. 
After brushing your teeth and combing your hair, you settle into bed. Your suitcase is still at your bedroom door, but the decision to move out isn't as set in stone as it was just a few hours ago. Perhaps you would look for a hotel for the time being to gain some distance. And then seek a conversation with Charles to have his behavior explained to you. 
Friends don't treat each other like that. And he's definitely going to have some work to do to straighten that out. But there needs to be distance between you to make it work, which is why you're looking for hotels in the area to check into tomorrow. 
A violent knock on the front door startles you. It's the middle of the night and you're not expecting anyone, so you carefully tiptoe towards the door. Maybe it's Lando, who left the rest of his soups here, or maybe he left his cell phone and can't call you to let you know he's coming by. Or maybe it's just a neighbor who got the wrong door. 
It could have been all of these possibilities. But it's none of them when you open the door. 
And you immediately regret that you didn't move out yesterday.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months
Text
At the Movies
Male Alpha Yandere x Transfem Omega Reader
CW: Noncon, extortion, coercion, cum licking, panty sniffing, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, general yandere behavior, musk, pheromones, knotting
Word Count: 866
(I had a dream that this happened to me last night and decided to write it as a story. Not beta read. Sorry for errors. I don't think transfem readers are really catered to that often, so hopefully some people feel represented without feeling fetishized in this. <3)
You were an omega. You had decided to go see a movie by yourself because the theater was playing old classic horror films every night this week. This was the first time since coming out as a trans woman that you had been out in public and you were extremely nervous. You had worked very hard on your makeup and had put on a cute skirt. Though you had a lot of anxiety, you also felt more yourself than you ever had before.
It was a Monday night and still a bit early, so there was no one else viewing the same movie that you were. You picked a good spot to watch from and settled in with your popcorn and drink. After a few good minutes, you felt more and more comfortable, until halfway through the film, you heard someone come in.
You didn't pay the person any attention until they were close enough for you to catch their scent. You recognised who it belonged to immediately. Your stalker, Shaun. He was a persistent alpha who had been after you for months. A total creep who thought you were meant to belong to him.
By the time you could smell him, he was already too close for you to escape. He sat down beside you and grabbed your wrist so you couldn't get away. With his other hand, he muffled your mouth so you couldn't scream. He leaned close, and his scent made you dizzy.
"Sorry I'm late for our date. I had to pick up Mr. Sir Squiggles."
Your blood ran cold. Mr. Sir Squiggles was your beloved hamster. The implication was clear. Stop struggling, or else he'd do something to your pet.
"Don't look so horrified, baby. I'd never hurt our pet. But I have custody, so if you want to see him, you'll have to do what I want with you and move in with me."
Shaun sounded so smug. He knew he had finally won. His romantic advances had failed, so why not keep your pet hostage? You cried silently and nodded so he knew you understood what you had to do. He released you from his grip and pulled you close with his arm around you. His pheromones were suffocating, and you could smell how aroused he was.
After a while, he noticed you shaking with nervousness but misinterpreted it as you being cold.
"You look cold, here~"
"N-no I'm fine." You sputtered.
He ignored you and draped you in his sweaty jacket. It did nothing to soothe your anxiety though his musl did make your body betray you in a humiliating fashion. Your cock was hard and slick was starting to leak from your ass. He could smell it as soon as it happened.
"Well I was going to wait until we got home, but if my girl needs it now, I'd be neglectful if I said no."
The tip of his cock was already visible poking out the leg of his shorts as he reached under your skirt and rubbed your soft thighs before ripping off your panties. He brought the tattered underwear to his nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing it into his pocket for later. You had to suppress the urge to run away and just let it happen.
Shaun pulled his shorts down enough for his eager prick to bounce free. Then he hitched up your skirt and pulled you on his lap, lowering you on his length in one smooth motion.
"I fit so well~ you were made for my cock."
You whimpered but he shushed you and kissed up your neck.
"Shhh, relax. Just watch your movie and enjoy my cock."
You tried to focus on the movie, to focus on anything but this gross violation. But it was impossible with him sliding so deeply into you while claiming, biting, and kissing your sensitive neck over and over. Je began to gently stroke your weeping cock. You couldn't help but moan softly as his knot swelled and brought you to orgasm. Your insides clenched and throbbed around his dick and finally made him drain his balls into you. He took the cum you spilled into his hand and smeared it on your lips before licking it off.
Shaun held you tight in his lap while waiting for his knot to stop swelling so that the two of you could uncouple. You panted and blankly watched the film while not really watching it as your head was overloaded with all that had just transpired. Occasionally, Shaun would kiss your neck gently or rub your legs in what he thought was a soothing manner.
Every once in a while, he'd whisper praise softly into your ear.
"You're so good at taking me."
"You look so pretty in a skirt."
"You're such a good girl."
When the movie ended, and when his knot decided to dislodge itself from your rear, Shaun led you out of the theater and into his car, cum slowly dripping down your legs the entire time. You were a mess, but too numb to really pay attention or care, but that was okay. Your new alpha boyfriend would take care of you.
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