#this is why all the ''i dress for myself not for men'' stuff falls flat

[nothorses]

Interview With An Ex-Radfem

exradfem is an anonymous Tumblr user who identifies as transmasculine, and previously spent time in radical feminist communities. They have offered their insight into those communities using their own experiences and memories as a firsthand resource.

Background

I was raised in an incredibly fundamentalist religion, and so was predisposed to falling for cult rhetoric. Naturally, I was kicked out for being a lesbian. I was taken in by the queer community, particularly the trans community, and I got back on my feet- somehow. I had a large group of queer friends, and loved it. I fully went in on being the Best Trans Ally Possible, and constantly tried to be a part of activism and discourse.

Unfortunately, I was undersocialized, undereducated, and overenthusiastic. I didn't fully understand queer or gender theory. In my world, when my parents told me my sexuality was a choice and I wasn't born that way, they were absolutely being homophobic. I understood that no one should care if it's a choice or not, but it was still incredibly, vitally important to me that I was born that way.

On top of that, I already had an intense distrust of men bred by a lot of trauma. That distrust bred a lot of gender essentialism that I couldn't pull out of the gender binary. I felt like it was fundamentally true that men were the problem, and that women were inherently more trustworthy. And I really didn't know where nonbinary people fit in.

Then I got sucked down the ace exclusionist pipeline; the way the arguments were framed made sense to my really surface-level, liberal view of politics. This had me primed to exclude people –– to feel like only those that had been oppressed exactly like me were my community.

Then I realized I was attracted to my nonbinary friend. I immediately felt super guilty that I was seeing them as a woman. I started doing some googling (helped along by ace exclusionists on Tumblr) and found the lesfem community, which is basically radfem “lite”: lesbians who are "only same sex attracted". This made sense to me, and it made me feel so much less guilty for being attracted to my friend; it was packaged as "this is just our inherent, biological desire that is completely uncontrollable". It didn't challenge my status quo, it made me feel less guilty about being a lesbian, and it allowed me to have a "biological" reason for rejecting men.

I don't know how much dysphoria was playing into this, and it's something I will probably never know; all of this is just piecing together jumbled memories and trying to connect dots. I know at the time I couldn't connect to this trans narrative of "feeling like a woman". I couldn't understand what trans women were feeling. This briefly made me question whether I was nonbinary, but radfem ideas had already started seeping into my head and I'm sure I was using them to repress that dysphoria. That's all I can remember.

The lesfem community seeded gender critical ideas and larger radfem princples, including gender socialization, gender as completely meaningless, oppression as based on sex, and lesbian separatism. It made so much innate sense to me, and I didn't realize that was because I was conditioned by the far right from the moment of my birth. Of course women were just a biological class obligated to raise children: that is how I always saw myself, and I always wanted to escape it.

I tried to stay in the realms of TIRF (Trans-Inclusive Radical Feminist) and "gender critical" spaces, because I couldn't take the vitriol on so many TERF blogs. It took so long for me to get to the point where I began seeing open and unveiled transphobia, and I had already read so much and bought into so much of it that I thought that I could just ignore those parts.

In that sense, it was absolutely a pipeline for me. I thought I could find a "middle ground", where I could "center women" without being transphobic.

Slowly, I realized that the transphobia was just more and more disgustingly pervasive. Some of the trans men and butch women I looked up to left the groups, and it was mostly just a bunch of nasty people left. So I left.

After two years offline, I started to recognize I was never going to be a healthy person without dealing with my dysphoria, and I made my way back onto Tumblr over the pandemic. I have realized I'm trans, and so much of this makes so much more sense now. I now see how I was basically using gender essentialism to repress my identity and keep myself in the closet, how it was genuinely weaponized by TERFs to keep me there, and how the ace exclusionist movement primed me into accepting lesbian separatism- and, finally, radical feminism.

The Interview

You mentioned the lesfem community, gender criticals, and TIRFs, which I haven't heard about before- would you mind elaborating on what those are, and what kinds of beliefs they hold?

I think the lesfem community is recruitment for lesbians into the TERF community. Everything is very sanitized and "reasonable", and there's an effort not to say anything bad about trans women. The main focus was that lesbian = homosexual female, and you can't be attracted to gender, because you can't know someone's gender before knowing them; only their sex.

It seemed logical at the time, thinking about sex as something impermeable and gender as internal identity. The most talk about trans women I saw initially was just in reference to the cotton ceiling, how sexual orientation is a permanent and unchangeable reality. Otherwise, the focus was homophobia. This appealed to me, as I was really clinging to the "born this way" narrative.

This ended up being a gateway to two split camps - TIRFs and gender crits.

I definitely liked to read TIRF stuff, mostly because I didn't like the idea of radical feminism having to be transphobic. But TIRFs think that misogyny is all down to hatred of femininity, and they use that as a basis to be able to say trans women are "just as" oppressed.

Gender criticals really fought out against this, and pushed the idea that gender is fake, and misogyny is just sex-based oppression based on reproductive issues. They believe that the source of misogyny is the "male need to control the source of reproduction"- which is what finally made me think I had found the "source" of my confusion. That's why I ended up in gender critical circles instead of TIRF circles.

I'm glad, honestly, because the mask-off transphobia is what made me finally see the light. I wouldn't have seen that in TIRF communities.

I believed this in-between idea, that misogyny was "sex-based oppression" and that transphobia was also real and horrible, but only based on transition, and therefore a completely different thing. I felt that this was the "nuanced" position to take.

The lesfem community also used the fact that a lot of lesbians have partners who transition, still stay with their lesbian partners, and see themselves as lesbian- and that a lot of trans men still see themselves as lesbians. That idea is very taboo and talked down in liberal queer spaces, and I had some vague feelings about it that made me angry, too. I really appreciated the frank talk of what I felt were my own taboo experiences.

I think gender critical ideology also really exploited my own dysphoria. There was a lot of talk about how "almost all butches have dysphoria and just don't talk about it", and that made me feel so much less alone and was, genuinely, a big relief to me that I "didn't have to be trans".

Lesfeminism is essentially lesbian separatism dressed up as sex education. Lesfems believe that genitals exist in two separate categories, and that not being attracted to penises is what defines lesbians. This is used to tell cis lesbians, "dont feel bad as a lesbian if you're attracted to trans men", and that they shouldn’t feel "guilty" for not being attracted to trans women. They believe that lesbianism is not defined as being attracted to women, it is defined as not being attracted to men; which is a root idea in lesbian separatism as well.

Lesfems also believe that attraction to anything other than explicit genitals is a fetish: if you're attracted to flat chests, facial hair, low voices, etc., but don't care if that person has a penis or not, you're bisexual with a fetish for masculine attributes. Essentially, they believe the “-sexual” suffix refers to the “sex” that you are assigned at birth, rather than your attraction: “homosexual” refers to two people of the same sex, etc. This was part of their pushback to the ace community, too.

I think they exploited the issues of trans men and actively ignored trans women intentionally, as a way of avoiding the “TERF” label. Pronouns were respected, and they espoused a constant stream of "trans women are women, trans men are men (but biology still exists and dictates sexual orientation)" to maintain face.

They would only be openly transmisogynistic in more private, radfem-only spaces.

For a while, I didn’t think that TERFs were real. I had read and agreed with the ideology of these "reasonable" people who others labeled as TERFs, so I felt like maybe it really was a strawman that didn't exist. I think that really helped suck me in.

It sounds from what you said like radical feminism works as a kind of funnel system, with "lesfem" being one gateway leading in, and "TIRF" and "gender crit" being branches that lesfem specifically funnels into- with TERFs at the end of the funnel. Does that sound accurate?

I think that's a great description actually!

When I was growing up, I had to go to meetings to learn how to "best spread the word of god". It was brainwashing 101: start off by building a relationship, find a common ground. Do not tell them what you really believe. Use confusing language and cute innuendos to "draw them in". Prey on their emotions by having long exhausting sermons, using music and peer pressure to manipulate them into making a commitment to the church, then BAM- hit them with the weird shit.

Obviously I am paraphrasing, but this was framed as a necessary evil to not "freak out" the outsiders.

I started to see that same talk in gender critical circles: I remember seeing something to the effect of, "lesfem and gender crit spaces exist to cleanse you of the gender ideology so you can later understand the 'real' danger of it", which really freaked me out; I realized I was in a cult again.

I definitely think it's intentional. I think they got these ideas from evangelical Christianity, and they actively use it to spread it online and target young lesbians and transmascs. And I think gender critical butch spaces are there to draw in young transmascs who hate everything about femininity and womanhood, and lesfem spaces are there to spread the idea that trans women exist as a threat to lesbianism.

Do you know if they view TIRFs a similar way- as essentially prepping people for TERF indoctrination?

Yes and no.

I've seen lots of in-fighting about TIRFs; most TERFs see them as a detriment, worse than the "TRAs" themselves. I've also definitely seen it posed as "baby's first radfeminism". A lot of TIRFs are trans women, at least from what I've seen on Tumblr, and therefore are not accepted or liked by radfems. To be completely honest, I don't think they're liked by anyone. They just hate men.

TIRFs are almost another breed altogether; I don't know if they have ties to lesfems at all, but I do think they might've spearheaded the online ace exclusionist discourse. I think a lot of them also swallowed radfem ideology without knowing what it was, and parrot it without thinking too hard about how it contradicts with other ideas they have.

The difference is TIRFs exist. They're real people with a bizarre, contradictory ideology. The lesfem community, on the other hand, is a completely manufactured "community" of crypto-terfs designed specifically to indoctrinate people into TERF ideology.

Part of my interest in TIRFs here is that they seem to have a heavy hand in the way transmascs are treated by the trans community, and if you're right that they were a big part of ace exclusionism too they've had a huge impact on queer discourse as a whole for some time. It seems likely that Baeddels came out of that movement too.

Yes, there’s a lot of overlap. The more digging I did, the more I found that it's a smaller circle running the show than it seems. TIRFs really do a lot of legwork in peddling the ideology to outer queer community, who tend to see it as generic feminism.

TERFs joke a lot about how non-radfems will repost or reblog from TERFs, adding "op is a TERF”. They're very gleeful when people accept their ideology with the mask on. They think it means these people are close to fully learning the "truth", and they see it as further evidence they have the truth the world is hiding. I think it's important to speak out against radical feminism in general, because they’re right; their ideology does seep out into the queer community.

Do you think there's any "good" radical feminism?

No. It sees women as the ultimate victim, rather than seeing gender as a tool to oppress different people differently. Radical feminism will always see men as the problem, and it is always going to do harm to men of color, gay men, trans men, disabled men, etc.

Women aren't a coherent class, and radfems are very panicked about that fact; they think it's going to be the end of us all. But what's wrong with that? That's like freaking out that white isn't a coherent group. It reveals more about you.

It's kind of the root of all exclusionism, the more I think about it, isn't it? Just freaking out that some group isn't going to be exclusive anymore.

Radical feminists believe that women are inherently better than men.

For TIRFs, it's gender essentialism. For TERFs, its bio essentialism. Both systems are fundamentally broken, and will always hurt the groups most at risk. Centering women and misogyny above all else erases the root causes of bigotry and oppression, and it erases the intersections of race and class. The idea that women are always fundamentally less threatening is very white and privileged.

It also ignores how cis women benefit from gender norms just as cis men do, and how cis men suffer from gender roles as well. It’s a system of control where gender non-conformity is a punishable offense.

#transgender #transphobia #trans #transmisogyny #radical feminism #radfem #feminism #transandrophobia #terfs #tirfs #gender critical #nothorses #cult mention #long post

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I’m Yours, You’re Mine | 2

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Smut, future angst

Summary:  You’ve always wished to take a more dominant role in bed, but Chan just wasn’t having it. So when you see an opportunity to do just that with Felix, you can’t help yourself. But you soon come to regret your drunken decision for a reason other than that you’d cheated on your boyfriend with his own bestfriend.

Warnings: Cheating, justifying cheating (badly), yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader, reader tries to pressure chan into subbing, felix getting pegged in a kitten maid outfit, excessive use of whore and slut and noona, degradation, felix messy

Gif Credit

It was a mistake. You had decided. You were both too drunk and horny to think it through and it was best to forget it all.

Felix, however, refused to drop it which really only cemented in your mind that it’s the right decision to stop this thing before it starts. If he’s kicking up this much fuss about it and you’ve barely done anything, what is he gonna do if you got more involved later? No, it’s over and you’d told him as such. You don’t want him and it had been a mistake.

But at night, when you’re all alone with your thoughts after chan had fucked you and gone to sleep, you can’t help but think of the freckled boy and how he had followed your every order so obediently. You touch yourself every night to the memory of it, how good he sounded touching himself for you. It has become a sort of escapism for you, a way to let out your frustrations every time Chan doesn’t let you take the lead.

It pissed you the fuck off, how condescending he’d sound when telling you to ‘stop messing around, babygirl’ as he proceeds to pin you down and fuck you from behind. Still, you keep trying because maybe if he’d let you have this, you wouldn’t run to other men to satisfy your needs.

"Baby, take a look at this." You call out to Chan who was sitting on the chair next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him so he'd see the costume you were looking at, a cat maid outfit for men. He scrunches his nose at it and laughs, "That's certainly something."

"You don't like it?" You pout and he looks at you incredulously. "You do?" 

"I don't know.” You shrug, once again feeling ridiculed. It’s not like you haven’t worn a schoolgirl or a sexy nurse outfit for him before when he’d asked. “I just think you'd look cute in it. And with halloween coming up and everything--"

"I’m gonna stop you right there, baby. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" You whine like a child.

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"But it's halloween, it’s supposed to be crazy. No one will care, they might even like it. I’d really like it.." 

"No. Pick something else." He deadpans but you keep pushing. "But I want this!"

Chan gets off his chair and sits on the couch next to you, grabbing your jaw and pulling you close to his face. “Baby, I’m a man, not a toy for you to play with and dress up as you please. You never mentioned any of this stuff before and you can’t just drop this on me now and expect me to do what you please.” 

“But why can’t you at least try?” 

“I’m not interested.” He answers slowly, emphasizing every word. "Now stop pressing or I'll put your pretty little mouth to better use."

____________________

You’re standing alone in a corner, nursing your drink as you watch the party-goers mingle and have fun, when you suddenly feel someone wrap their arms around you and press up their body against your back. You don’t flinch, already knowing who it is. 

“Hey, baby, wanna go out for a bite?” The stupid pickup line only serves to make you more annoyed at the boy behind you and you wince as he digs his fake fangs into the skin of your shoulder. Shrugging the man off, you turn to face him. “I thought strong women made you flaccid.” 

The sour smile on his face only lasts for a second before it turns patronizing. “That’s not true. I was very into Kim Possible.” He cups your cheek and leans down close to your face, his nose touching yours. “But I’d fuck Shego too.” 

You push his hand away and step back, stopping the kiss he was going for. “Sorry, but this Shego isn’t interested in getting fucked.”

Chan rests his hands on his hips and lets out a heavy sigh. “How long are you gonna stay mad at that?”

“How long is your fragile masculinity gonna keep you from satisfying your girlfriend in bed?” 

He steps towards you angrily, getting all up in your face again. “Don’t you dare! I always make you cum.”

“So? I can make myself cum just fine on my own. But what I actually want from you, you’re not giving to me.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He yells, face turning red as he prepares to launch into his own angry rant when something catches his eyes and he bursts out laughing. “Oh, for fucks sake.”

You look at him in confusion and he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around.  “Take a look at Felix, honey.” He murmurs sardonically.

With narrowed eyes, you search for the blonde among the crowd of people gathered at your apartment, wondering why Chan was stopping your oh-so-important argument for this. But when your eyes land on him, they blow wide open. Felix is dressed in the exact outfit you’d shown Chan wished earlier, complete with the cat eats and the little bell around his neck. He looked perfect. 

“Look at how ridiculous he looks.” Chan’s voice cuts into your thoughts as he leans down to jeer in your ear. "And you wanted me to look like that. Hey, maybe Lix will bend over and let you fuck him if you ask." 

He says it with the most sarcasm and contempt he can muster before shoving you a little bit forward and walking off. But it’s far from a joke to you. There is nothing funny about the gorgeous boy looking like he just came out of your wildest dreams. 

With anger and lust mixing dangerously in your veins, you march straight to Felix, and without even greeting him, you grab him by the arm and pull him into the bathroom that was further into the apartment and lock the both of you inside. 

Pushing him against the sink, you grab his hair and force him to look at himself in the mirror. "What is the meaning of this?"

“Noona?” He wonders uneasily, playing innocent. 

“How the fuck did you get this?” 

“I found it on the internet, noona.” 

“Oh, you found it, huh?” You scoff, running your hand over the black and white outfit. “You just happened to find the exact same costume I was showing to Chan a few weeks back?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, noona.” He stares at your reflection through his lashes, doing his best to look meek and clueless. Growling, you shove your hand between his legs, grabbing at his half-hard dick and making him squeal. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you? You’re such a fucking whore, Felix.” He moans, bucking his hip into your hand. "You know I belong to your hyung and you're just gonna betray him like that?"

He shakes his head earnestly, "No, noona. I’m not trying to."

"Don't lie. Little whore only thinks with his cock." You hiss, letting your other hand fall from his hair to his chest, your fingers roughly pulling at his nipples through the thin fabric covering them. 

“Ah--fuck--noona!” He cries, thrusting his dick against your hand more and more. "I'm a good boy. You know that noona."

“Then what is is?” You pull his skirt up to clearly show his now fully hard dick straining against the panties he’s wearing. And when you do, you stop in your tracks. 

"Are those my panties?" You shriek, pushing him flat over the marble countertop and flipping the skirt over his ass so you can see the black panties more clearly. “You fucking creep!”

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and yank the panties down, getting even more of a shock when you see what he has under them. 

"Shit." You breathe, momentarily forgetting all about the panties as you stare at the pink butt plug wedged snuggly in his ass. When you reach out and tap the base of it, Felix's legs buckle. “Is this part of the costume too?”

He stays quiet, burying his face into his arms and you scoff. "God, you're such a slut." You grab the plug and pull it back, only to slam it back in all at once. His scream is muffled against his arms but he eagerly pushes his hips back into you. 

You take a few seconds to get your breathing under control. Once again you can’t believe what is in front of you. You’ve only dreamt about something like this before, but here is Felix giving it all to you without you even asking. How can you resist?

"Don't move." You hiss in his ear, ignoring his little moan of protest as you pull away and step out of the bathroom.

You get what you want from your room as fast as you possibly can before going back to the bathroom and finding that Felix has actually not stayed still, and is now standing up and nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"Didn't I say to not move?"

"I was afraid someone would come in." He mumbles.

“Afraid people will find out what a whore you are, you mean.” You step in and lock the door behind you before you before you show him what you have in the box you just retrieved. 

You smile at his gasp when he sees you pull out the strap you own, the one you never even got to show to Chan before. Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the shaking boy. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, Lixie?” 

He nods before you even finish your question. “Of course, noona. You can do whatever you want to me.” 

You smirk like you expected nothing less than that, but in reality you were riding high off of the fact that he so easily gave into you without you even needing to coax him. It made you wanna give him everything he asks for. 

But Felix’s enthusiasm is dampened a little when he sees you putting the strap-on over your costume. Pouting, he asks you, “You’re not gonna take anything off, noona?”

"I don't need to take anything off to fuck you." You reply simply and he lets out an insolent whine. “But I wanna see your body. I never got to see it up-close.” 

Your face turns hard and Felix takes a moment to realize the implication of what he just said. “So you’re saying you’ve seen my body before? Have you been spying on me too, you little shit?” 

He stays quiet, staring at the floor. 

“You’re such a fucking pervert. I ought to tell Chan about all of this.” You push him around to face the mirror again and press his body against the countertop. “The outfit. The panties. The spying.” You grit, taking the butt plug out of his ass and running your fingertips up and down his open hole.

“No, please don’t tell him.” He whimpers, face pressed against the cool marble. 

“Why shouldn’t I? He should know what his precious friend is up to behind his back.” You squeeze some lube over your fingers before you push one inside of him. It goes in easily so you add the second one right away, pressing down as you pump your fingers in and out of his ass.

“Nghh--noona--noona!” He squirms under you, hands grasping to find any purchase over the smooth countertop. “Please, fuck me.”

You can’t really deny him for long, already feeling like you could cream your panties just watching him break down under you. As you push the didlo in, he lets out a loud keen that turns into heavy panting as you start rocking your hips into his. 

“Thank you, noona.” His voice is garbled and you pull him up by the hair to make him stand up so you can look at his face while you fuck him. He looks like an absolute mess of drool and flushed cheeks, his dick leaking little drops on the floor. 

"What a tiny dick you have, Lixie.” You can't help but stare at it and the leather garter belt he has around his thigh with a metallic heart looped in it. Wrapping your hand his wet dick, you start pumping it as you thrust into his ass. “No wonder you can't dom a girl. I probably have a bigger dick than yours."

“I’m sorry, n-noona. Please use me--ahh--however you want.” He sobs, barely able to hold himself up in your arms. 

“Use you for what? You’re a complete mess. You wouldn’t be able to satisfy me even if you tried.” You fuck him harder, quickening the pace of your strokes on his twitching dick and shivering at the sounds that fill up the room, from the snap of your hips against his ass, to the slick sound of you jerking him off, to the whiny moans he's letting loose to the tune of the bell in his choker. “But it’s okay, I’ll just think about this when Channie is fucking my brains out tonight.” 

Suddenly his face changes, taking on a dark and sinister hue that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. But you can’t let him intimidate you. If you can’t even dom Felix then Chan is right not to take you seriously. Besides, if you want to keep this going, you have to have him under a tight leash or else he’ll go rogue and expose the both of you. 

"What? You have something to say?" You challenge, but he stays quiet, his lips curled into a mean sneer. "You're just a toy for me and if you want me to keep playing with you, you need to learn your place. Is that understood?"

But Felix doesn’t respond, continuing to stare you down through the mirror. 

“You want me to leave you high and dry like last time? Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t back down, kitten.” You warn him, your thrusts turning from fast and hard to slow and deep, and your grip on his cock tightening. “Come on, who is my good boy?” 

Finally, he relents, throwing his head back over your shoulder and moaning out, “I am, noona.” 

“Prove it or else I’ll have no use for you.” You smatter stinging kisses all over the side of his neck in retaliation for taking so long, and you feel him gulping under your lips. "Come on, little slut, squirt out that cum for me." 

“Yes, noona, just need a little more.” He grunts obediently, thrusting his cock up into your closed fist in time with your own thrusts into his ass. "Aahh--noona--fuck---noona!" His hands reach back and his fingers dig into your flesh as he cums, using his hold on you to keep standing upright.

“That’s it. That’s it.” You coo, taking a bit too long before you stop touching him, letting him suffer the pain of overstimulation for a minute, his eyes blown wide as his mouth hangs open as he stares at you with glazed over eyes in the mirror, his cum dripping down your hand and making a small puddle on the floor under you. 

“You’ll keep being a good boy, won’t you, Lixie?” You press a soft kiss under his ear that makes him shiver. Letting the tension out of his body, he relaxes back into your arms and closes his eyes. 

“Yes, Noona.” 

____________

A/N: next chapter is using one of those remote control vibrators on lixie in public uwu oh and making him watch chan fuck reader :))))) 

feedback keeps me going and makes me upload faster like this :))))

#stray kids smut #felix smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #yandere!au

[dreamingofaizawa]

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

*

*

*

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you. 

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily. 

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.” 

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.” 

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently. 

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

*

*

*

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun. 

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes. 

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease. 

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.” 

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips.  He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time. 

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?” 

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave. 

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

[nineteensixtieschikadee]

Arya Stark & Femininity

This might turn into a mini rant, so bear with me here. A lot of times whenever I watch old GOT clips, (bc I hate myself) and read stuff about Arya on fansites, I realize that there’s been a lot of misconception about her and her character. Particularly about her being a woman. And a lot of times i see this sort of “justification” from her fans that the reason why she’s such a fan-favorite character in the show (and to some extent, the books?) is because Arya is esentially this “bad-ass ninja asassin tomboy who’s out for revenge against those who’ve killed her family.” And some of her fans and especially her anti’s will call her out expressing that “Arya’s only a child who doesn’t like girly things like dresses and boys and doing her hair. She “identifies” herself as a tomboy because she likes “boyish things” like sword play, and playing in the mud, and gore, wrestling, etc. I was scrolling through the Jonrya tag here on Tumblr, this is a comment I found regarding Arya:

The moment I read that I straight up just wanted to rant! Lol! Also, I’m sorry for the formatting, I’m writing this on mobile. :( Anyways, these people who make those claims about Arya, esentially only see her as this small girl who likes fighting and getting dirty. They completely disregard everything else that makes Arya, Arya. Pretty much just limiting her to her sex, understanding that because Arya likes boyish things, she’s NOT ALLOWED to inherit things, like the North, fall in love and get married, have a high position in the hierarchy and in politics. It’s because that these people see her as someone who hates needlework or everything that isn’t Sansa, everyone believes that she hates everything that makes her FEMALE. Everybody here knows that Arya’s my favorite female character in the books, so I just wanna talk about how the general public views her, and how their views tend to go against Arya’s entire character.

People have this view that she is the “exact opposite” of Sansa. And while that’s true in terms of their different characteristics, it doesn’t mean that Arya is against everything that makes Sansa, feminine. Now lemme elaborate here. Sansa is everything that represents “femininity.” Especially in terms of the inspired time period that ASOIAF takes place in. She’s very girly & lady-like, is mannerful, “soft-spoken.” She daydreams about boys and being a princess. She’s graceful and elegant. She knows her place in terms of society, and as a woman. AND YEAH, Arya is the exact opposite of that. Yes, she has this boyish nature. She’s wild and free spirited. Loud also adventerous. But that’s the thing: Arya has a lot of femininity in her. It’s just not the femininity that we’re used to. What society percieves as “normally feminine.”

Arya is not Sansa. And it’s because she doesn’t act like a “lady” that the audience sees her as this girl who “doesn’t want” or most importantly, should not want/get the same treatment as the typical noblewoman in Westeros should recieve. This idea was engraved into people’s heads because of the show, and that’s how we’re supposed to see her. As this cold hearted ninja assasin warrior who happens to be a girl, but doesn’t act like a typical girl. The audience pretty much places her in the “I’m not like other girls” trope. Which is honestly, so wrong to me. Because yeah okay, Arya isn’t like the typical lady. But god, she is far deeper than that, and is a much more complex character.

Here’s the thing, Arya does not reject being a female, and most importantly, she does not reject the typical ideals of what makes a lady feminine. Of course not. In fact, she actively encourages that women be included in all things, especially in things only made for men. She believes that women should not be held back or ignored because of their sex and femininity.

“The Lannister’s are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.”

“The woman is important too!” Arya protested.

This excerpt is from Arya’s very first chapter in AGOT. It is also my favorite Jonrya moment, lol. And asides from the scene foreshadowing potential plot points for not only Jon & Arya, the scene introduces to us and examines Arya’s perception of society and more specifically, the women in society. In this scene Arya joins Jon in observing Prince Joffrey, talking about the Lannister/Baratheon coat of arms. Jon makes a point that while the Baratheon sigil should be enough to prove that Joffrey is of royalty, the Lannisters (Cersei) are a proud house, married into the royal family. So therefore Joffrey is of house Baratheon AND Lannister. That is why the Lannister sigil stands besides the Baratheons. Because they, specifically Cersei, should be seen as equal to the king.

And while Jon makes this seem like it’s wrong or not needed, Arya disagrees with him. She tells him that the women should not be forgotten, as they should be seen as equal to the men. That the women are just as important as the men, and that it would be of good conduct to not forget that. And with that being said, she never acknowledges that Joffrey’s mother is too lady-like or too feminine to be seen as an equal to the king. Nope. Although she does question later as to why if women cannot fight, why should they have a coat of arms. Though that is hardly the point of her argument.

Another point that makes people believe that Arya is not feminine or does not support femininity, is when she flat out says to Ned that she hates the idea of being a lady.

“Your mother and I have charged her with the impossible task of making you a lady.”

“I don’t want to be a lady,” Arya flared.

Alot of people misinterpret this as Arya not wanting to be a noblewoman, because she only likes to play with swords, and get dirty. Because acting like a lady is stupid and not her. This is simply not true. Arya has no problem with women, or being a lady. She is a lady. A highborn one. What she does have a problem with is that being a lady often means being trapped in the conformities of what society percieves to be the acceptable standard for women in this time period.

All of the acceptable standards is what Sansa is. And she is not like Sansa. She does not believe herself to be a lady like her sister or her mother. When she first reveals her true identity to Gendry in ACOK, he immediately apologizes to her for his behavior and calls her m’lady. :3 Arya unfortunately sees this as a form of mockery and an attack because while Gendry acknowledges that she is a lady, Arya doesn’t act like a typical lady or even look like one. That insecurity of not being a lady like her mother and sister makes her believe that Gendry is using her sex against her. Like a form of irony. But I mean, we all know that’s far from the truth, lol!

And Jon recognizes this too! It’s the reason why they are so close and tightly knit together. Because Jon understands Arya, and sees her insecurity like how she sees his. They are one and the same. Jon sees and understands Arya’s frustrations of sexism viewed in Westeros. He acknowledges that Arya is to become a lady. But he also sees that Arya is not the conventional type of lady wanting to stick to the norms. She is a different type of lady, and to him, that is okay. He may tease her for it once in a while, pointing out all the unfair limitations that women have to go through. But he accepts her for being this unconventional noblewoman, and often encourages her to pursue being different.

“Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.”

Later when Jon and Arya say their goodbyes, Jon gifts Arya with the swords. Needle. This is his way of saying, fuck all them haters, be who you wanna be. Solidifying the idea that he supports her and accepts her for who she is. Kinda like how Tyrion told him to use his identity as armour, Arya should do the same to herself. It’s okay to be different than the rest. Fuck the rules.

It’s not that Arya hates the idea of being a lady. It’s a far cry from that. It’s the sexism that goes along with being the typical lady that infruiates her. Arya loves running around, riding horses, playing with swords, being loud and adventurous. She has a firery temper to her. And just because she likes doing all of that, and is all of that, it doesn’t mean, shouldn’t mean that she isn’t a lady. That she can’t be a lady. All of those things shouldn’t limit her to being viewed as a girl, a highborn lady. She is a woman, and she identifies as one.

“Listen to him, boy.”

“It was the third time he had called her “boy.” “I’m a girl,” Arya objected.

That is why, even though she sees herself as a woman, she often tells herself and other people that she is not a lady. Despite others telling her that she is one. Her insecurity and her frustrations do not allow her to see herself as a lady because she isn’t a “conventional woman.”

But the thing is, even though Arya doesn’t enjoy most of the typical lady-like things, she still has a ton of femininity to her. And people often ignore her more feminine traits in favor of her more “badassery” side, which unfortunately are most often occupied by men. People forget and downright ignore that Arya is really intelligent. She particularly excels in math. It’s one of the few things that she’s better at than Sansa. She loves flowers—like her aunt Lyanna. The very person who she’s said to look and act like the most. And a really important one is that she has motherly instincts. It’s what helps her protect other kids throughout her journey. Her ability to empathize enables her to be more social with outcasts and befriend others without judgement. She is well-mannered and kind to strangers. (An example of this would be when she apologizes to a common woman who lent her a dress to wear, and she accidentally destroys it because she and Gendry were playing by the acorn tree.) She can also cook and clean just like any other woman—or any other person. All of those are feminine traits, and are traits that make her more human. And the show opted to get rid of all that and gave us some cold-hearted, angry, ninja.

The audience perceives that because Arya is this ninja warrior who rejects the common standards of being a lady, it means that she can’t have these other more female traits. Nope. She’s not allowed to have or want more rights and power because that’s not her. She’s a warrior and nothing more. She can’t find love because she has to be this bad-ass independent woman who don’t need no man. That’s not her, that’s her sister. We can’t have Arya be any more female than she already is because she rejects the idea of being female. Leave all that crap to her sister! Sansa’s the princess—and we can’t have Arya being a princess or queen. Arya’s only allowed to carry a sword.

And it’s the audience’s perception of her that goes against everything that Arya is, and everything that she believes in. Because remember, Arya hates the idea that being a lady means being trapped in the societal norms. And it can be said vice versa too. Arya still respects those who want to be more of the conventional type. Arya may not have the more typical feminine traits that make her a lady, but to hell with it! It doesn’t mean that she’s not allowed to have the other things that the more conventional woman would/should have. That goes against all of her views and beliefs. The audience puts Arya at an unfair standard because she doesn’t act like a conventional woman.

It’s the same thing as the audience saying that Jon Snow doesn’t want a title or power, because he’s devoted his life to the Nights Watch and is unselfish. False. Very false. Just like Arya. Arya’s young. She still has time to grow, and no doubt she doesn’t think of all those things now because of other priorities. But she’s slowly getting there. And there is so much foreshadowing of her finding love, becoming a woman gaining power, etc, etc. She’s not there yet, but that’s a part of her growth. Just because she defies the typical female standards, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want or wont want all those things later.

Like com’on. Everyone knows that Arya is the only legitimate candidate right now to inherit the North. Everyone knows. The Northmen know, the Nights Watch knows, the people in Kings Landing knows. Hell, even the damn wildings know this. And it’s because of this knowledge that formed the majority of the northern plotline in ADWD. People are going to war for her. She is the true key to the North, and that’s why the Boltons lied and said that they have her. It’s why Jon went to war and died for her. I don’t think Arya will truly believe it if/when she finds out that people are fighting for her because she holds the power to the North. Unless Jon’s gonna be the one to tell her himself. The fact that she is being set up to inherit all this power, and yet people deny it and believe that she doesn’t want it because it’s “not her” in regards that she’s not feminine enough, is seriously infuriating.

I mean look at the type of women Arya respects and idolizes. Where do you think she got the name Nymeria from? Nymeria’s name originates from the Princess of Dorne herself, Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar. Princess Nymeria was said be very beautiful, strong-willed, cunning, and full of wisdom. She was a “warrior-queen.” From that alone, her femininity clearly did not matter. She was a woman whose goals were not held back because of her femininity and sex.

Arya does not hate femininity or things that makes women more feminine. She doesn’t truly hate wearing dresses or being a lady. It’s being conformed to the general standards that she hates. It’s her sex being used against her that makes her angry. It’s not being able to be herself that she despises. And thanks to Sansa and her mother’s judgement of her, Arya’s insecurity only heightened. Despite looking exactly like Lyanna, Arya herself believes that she’s not beautiful enough to even be considered a lady. Only Jon and Ned allowed Arya to be Arya. Only they called her beautiful, and only they encouraged her to be who she wanted to be. Arya loves her fellow women. And yeah, she also loves Sansa despite her being such a pain in the ass bitch, lol.

Arya’s character encourages women to just be women. She encourages us the audience to just be ourselves despite all the conformities forced upon us. Her character explores the limitations of sex, gender, and especially the loss of identity. Arya not wanting to be a lady doesn’t actually mean she doesn’t want to be a lady. She doesn’t want to be held back by the standards of being a lady. Her question, her argument is that why should women be limited only to being this or that. Women are far more than meets the typical standard, and if society can’t accept it, then fuck that! Women can be knights and still be a lady. They can be fierce and passionate and emotional and still be a lady. Women can be warriors and still be a lady. Just because there are some women out there who don’t fit the ideal standards of what it means to be lady, it shouldn’t make them feel like less than one.

#Arya Stark #Arya Stark meta #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow #Gendry Baratheon #Jonrya #Gendrya #Arya is a feminist #When is TWOW come out?! I miss her!! #Also shes going through puberty in the next book so uh that’ll be interesting hm? #Ya’ll Dany may be going mad in the books too #But I mean Dany and Arya NEED to interact at least 1 pls George give it to me :( #Anti GOT

[chimtaesty]

broken souls (pjm!hybrid au)

plot :Helping hybrids is your passion, as a local hybrid center calls you for help because of a abused and broken panther hybrid you pack your stuff and hurry to put him back together.

warnings: death, abuse | 4.9k words

a/n: hi there, it’s been a while huh? I’m finally back and better than ever. I released two stories lately which seemed like a fever dream so i won’t continue them but i hope you are ready to keep supporting my stuff :) I hope you like this story since i spent a lot of time and thoughts on it :)

masterlist

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Am i talking to Y/N?”

“Yes you are, who is this?” 

“Oh, i’m sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Helen Wallis and I'm the Head of the Hybrid Rehabilitation Center Crystal Snow. I’m calling because we take care of a very delicate case at the moment, the issue is that we don’t know how to take further care of this poor soul and I heard that you are an amazing psychologist student who even helped the Seong-girl out of her cruel thoughts. If you could maybe take your time to take a look at this broken boy we would all be really thankful.”

To be honest, this girl didn’t take a lot of work. She was spoiled and upset because a boy in her school rejected her. The only reason this became a big thing was because the parents are influential people. But you would love to help someone who needed your help so you didn’t have another choice.

“I would gladly take a look at him, if you could send me his file.”

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you a lot Y/N, your help means a lot”

You’ve looked at the same three sheets of paper for the last two hours and you can’t believe what’s printed on it. The sentences make you angry and give you the feeling of having to throw up. He was raised on a local farm which turned out to be an underground fighting ring. He had to take drugs. He was raped and had to watch his mum getting killed, the only person on this planet who he loved. He has lost someone just like you, you may be able to connect with him faster than with Seong Hye-Jin.

The speed of your heart beating decreases as you pack the papers back into your bag. The bus rumbles and your stop arrives faster as you expected it to. The building looks nice, it has  a big blue sign on top that says “Crystal Snow Rehabilitation Center”. It’s a short walk across the street to the entrance. As you walk towards the front desk a chubbier in white dressed older lady walks towards you. “You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you. I called you earlier this week” you nod and shake her hand. “Yes, I tried to prepare myself as well as possible, but i’m not sure if he is going to welcome my help. I would say we just give it a try.”

The walk to Jimin’s room is long, there are a lot of doors, hallways and two elevators involved. Before Helen opens the door she turns around and clasps your hands in hers. “I need you to be careful. I couldn’t forgive myself if he hurt you. If something goes south please shout immediately, security is right outside this door. God may bless you” she whispers the last sentence as she turns the key and the door opens. You smile at Helen and take a step in. You never thought much about god or christianity, it’s all a hoax. Where was god when you needed him? 

“Please leave the door open until I say otherwise” you whisper towards Helen and she nods. As you take a look inside the tiny room you are reminded of your bedroom at your parents house. It was tiny but cozy, Jimin might feel the same.

There he is, laying on his bed facing the window. “Hi there, Jimin. My name is Y/N, I would like to talk to you. Is that fine with you?” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move. He’s not ignoring you though, he’s listening very well. “Should i leave the door open?” you ask silently and he doesn’t answer, he turns around to look at you. A thing catches your attention immediately, the big scar across his left eye.

He nods and you nod back not saying anything. “Can i sit myself down over there or should I stay here?” you ask again to tear his attention from the open door, this is no time to do something dumb. “Stay” he whispers and you comply, he wants to keep you at a distance. The spot you’re standing at is a great place to oversee everything you do. “Alright, i’ll just sit down right here” you smile, he doesn’t reply.

As you sit there on the floor he grows more comfortable. The door is open and there is no one who pushes him to speak. You lowered yourself to the ground where he is able to look down on you. “So, Jimin. We both know why I’m here. To be quite honest, these people here don’t really care about you. It sounds harsh but that’s the truth. The only thing they are interested in is rehabilitating you and getting you out of here. They want you to move on and live normally but let’s be real for a second, that’s impossible.” His head snaps upwards to look at you.

“Everyone tells you how great life is and how badly you need to move on. The problem is that after all life ever gave you, it’s hard for you to understand that optimism. Life is shit, isn’t it?” you chuckle and he nods. “I didn’t expect you to say that” his raspy voice fills the room.

You chuckle “What? That life’s shit? Well, it’s the truth.” he nods and suddenly his ears move from being stuck flat on his head to standing upwards, ready to listen to you. “You know, Jimin. I understand you. Life hasn’t been kind to me either. I might’ve not lived through something as terrific as you but it comes close. Do you want to hear it?” he nods but still keeps his head low. You know that sharing hurtful experiences can help you connect to each other. You knew almost everything about him. You know what those horrible people did to him and how he became who he is now but he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know why you are willing to sit on his floor or why the hell the door was kept open

“I had to kill my father” That catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you.

“Two men broke into our house one night when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what was happening, I mean it was around three am and i was sleeping. My brother was dead when I arrived in the living room, they had almost decapitated him. My parents were restrained and sat up on our couch.” 

I have to breathe for a moment before I can continue. Right in that moment he locked his gaze with me for the first time. We share a quick glance.

“My mum was raped before they slit her throat and I couldn't do anything.I had to stab my dad 28 times. The only thing I remember was them telling me that everything’s my fault. I don’t know what I did nor do I know why my parents had to pay for it. But I moved on. I didn’t forget, not that I ever could forget this massacre but, I try to survive. Nothing can ever bring them back and I know that. I will never see them again and it hurts everytime i close my eyes because I see their lives leaving their bodies when I do but I try to move on. I try to live ” 

I wipe my tears and look at the floor as all the pictures come back. The blood, the bones being cracked and the lives being taken-”I’m sorry you had to go through that” he whispers and a small sniff leaves your body. “Thank you, Jimin.” you whisper back and for a moment there’s just silence. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. It’s almost as if he accepts you now, as if he knows what you feel.

“Do i have to tell you?” you shake your head with a small smile. You wouldn’t mind but every time you have to talk about it you literally relive what happened. You don’t want him to feel what you do now  “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he nods and sighs, a big weight visually leaving his shoulders. “You can sit on the chair, the floor must be cold” you almost laugh. “I’ll gladly. Thank you, Jimin.” You sit down in front of him and he moves back slightly.

“Jimin” you whisper and his head snaps towards you “Yes?” he whispers back. His eyes softly gaze at yours “I need you to know that you’re not alone. What you had to go through is in no way forgettable and I know that you regret many things but you’re not alone. ” he just stares at you until his eyebrows furrow and his chest starts to move faster and faster. You triggered something, something bad.

“You’re lying” he whispers and his nostrils flare and his eyes stare at the floor. “You’re lying like everyone else.” He almost growls at you as you try to deny what he said. “I’m not, Jimin, listen to me!” you plead and you notice the shift. In front of you is no longer the quiet and understanding person he was two minutes ago . He shifted to what those people made him, a broken, hurt and traumatized boy who’s life is a living hell.

Now that they got him out of there he’s held captive in his mind. The horror he had to experience every day is now tormenting him inside his own head and no one seems to understand that.  His eyes grow dark and his body builds itself up and he flashes his teeth in a threatening way. He closes himself off. He’s gone, the soft understanding boy you were just talking to was somewhere crying in a corner of his mind scared of getting attached and being thrown away like garbage.

In a matter of seconds his hands find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip and you find it hard to breathe. Your pleads come out strangled as he lets out a low grunt. This situation reminds you of the night you killed your father. The men strangled you as well while you watched your mum being raped, the only difference here is that Jimin isn’t doing it out of pleasure, he’s terrified to the point where he’s alright with taking another person's life.

The two security men find their way into the room as your legs give in and you two fall to the floor, Jimin didn’t let go though. Your last attempt of staying alive needs to work so you clasp his face in between your hands. You stroke his cheek and give him a small smile. “It’s alright” His eyebrow twitches slightly and in a matter of seconds his grip around your throat loosens and your vision finds its way back to you. You cough violently after you push him behind yourself.

“Miss, please move. We need to move this farrell animal, he’s a threat” you shake your head as you move closer to Jimin “He’s not- cough -that’s why I-cough-I’m here. Pl-cough-Please move outside, thank you-cough.” They share a worried look but do as told and move to their spots outside. Your head hangs low as you try to steady your breathing.

Behind you, you can hear silent but repetitive sorry’s.

You turn around slightly, just to look at him. He now understood what he had done. You can’t blame him for what he did, he was terrified as you somehow triggered something in his brain with your reassurance. “Jimin” you breathe out and his rant of sorry’s stop. “Jimin,this isn’t your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you” You turn towards him and take his hand into yours.

“Do you hear me? I’m not mad at you” he doesn’t look at you as you talk to him. The atmosphere in his room is cold and uncomfortable. His demeanor changed, he feels sorry and you know that. He almost killed you and you’re not upset. It’s something that’s hard to understand, why would someone you hurt still like you? Simple, they are either unconditionally in love with you or know how you feel. They understand the things you went through, the pain you feel, they relate.

“How?” He whispers as his emotions get ahead of him. “I almost killed you, look at your throat” he sniffs and you can’t help but touch it. It’s sore and probably bright red but you don’t really care. “It’s fine” you answer him and he shakes his head “How can that be fine? You were nothing but nice to me and I struck you to the floor to strangle you. If that is fine to you, you’re dumb”

You nod your head “Maybe I am”. You stroke the hair out of your face and get up. “I’ll be leaving now-“It was nice meeting you Y/N, I’m sorry that I hurt you and I understand that you won’t come ba-“Oh, I’m coming back” his head snapped up to look at you. “What?” You chuckled slightly “You can’t get rid of me that easily, we are friends now, Jimin.” He just gives you a star struck expression as you’re almost outside of his room. “I’ll bring you some cake next time”

-

About a week later you again stand in front of the center. You thought a lot about how you could help Jimin and to be honest, you have no idea. The only thing that somehow connects you two is the trauma. There’s nothing that really connects you, you lived a great life until that night, you always had and always will have the privilege of being a human and not a hybrid. Jimin was born on a farm like an animal, raised like one and treated like one.

In your hands you hold the cake you promised him the last time. You open the door just to be greeted with Helen. She smiles at you and welcomes you with a warm handshake “Y/N, how nice to see. Jimin has been asking for you everyday. He told me what he has done and how you treated him. I’m glad that you didn’t run away, he really needs your help” you nod and smile at her “We had a great start actually, I’m positive that I’m able to help him.” she gives you a comforting smile before she answers you “He’s outside, by the pond” you nod and take your leave to the garden.

The garden is blooming beautifully, a lot of flowers and bushes decorate the garden in a welcoming and soft way. Other hybrids roam around the garden as well. Some play together, some stay alone just like Jimin. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the pond while he stares at the water. You clear your throat as you stand right behind him and he’s fast to turn around.

His face shifts to a soft smile as he sees you. “Y/N!” he exclaims happily. He puts his legs down and makes space for you. You thankfully take the spot next to him. The air is thick between you two and you can pinpoint exactly why. He still feels sorry for what he did and you don’t really know how to approach this matter.

“I brought you the cake I promised” you throw into the silence. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t move at all. “I thought you wouldn’t come again” he says sadly. Your head snaps towards his and your eyes lock. “Why would you think that? I told you i would come back” you give back. He shakes his head and finally glances at the cake “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” you sigh and hit his shoulder lightly. “I would never break my promise, now try the cake” you give him a fork and let him taste it.

“I didn’t bake it though, I’m terrible in the kitchen” you chuckle and he smiles “That’s fine, it’s delicious” he silently eats the cake and thanks you another two times. “How’s your throat?” he asks quietly. You unconsciously touch your throat. “It’s fine, it’s a little bit red” he nods and shoves another fork of cake into his mouth. Just then you notice a red mark on his right hand. They didn’t hit him, did they?

“Jimin, you need to be completely honest with me right now” his eyes go wide as your face grows angry. “Did they hurt you for what you did to me?” he almost chokes on his cake as you ask him that. “Did they hit you?” you ask again and he hides his hand before he tries to explain himself. “It’s not like i didn’t deserve it.” he stammers. “They are not allowed to do that, Jimin. You should’ve told me right away, I will make sure something like that never happens ever again.” he shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You give him an angry look “It is not alright, no one should treat you like that” he smiles slightly and strokes the back of your hand.

“I’m fine” and for a moment you believe him. You forget the red mark on his hand and the scar across his eye. You forget what happened to you and what happened to him. You forget the handprints around your throat. The trees and flowers disappear as well as the pond which seems to drain into oblivion. Nothing else other than the beautiful boy in front of you seems to exist. The way his dark hair almost hides his beautiful eyes which are trying to reassure you. The way his bruised hand gently strokes yours and the way this feeling makes you want to cry. It makes your walls crumble.

“Y/N?” his voice tugs you out of your thoughts. His hand wipes a tear from your face “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly. You can’t talk, it’s like someone took your ability to speak.

“It’s alright, I sometimes cry as well.” He lets go of your hand and suddenly everything comes back. Everything is there again and it’s hard to comprehend. Why did it feel nice?

“I did horrible things, you know. You shouldn’t look at me like that” your eyebrows furrow. “Like what?” he looks up at the sky “Like you love me, my mum used to look at me like that” he gives back and you can’t move. “It’s a look that says that you would give me the universe and more if you could. It’s a look which says that you would love everything about me but you won’t, you can’t. I did things that not a single living creature should do. If you knew what i did, you wouldn’t speak to me ever again. You would look at me the same way as everyone else ever did! “ he almost shouted.

You are taken aback, what is he talking about. “Well, what did you do?” he whips around and stares at you in disbelief. “Did you just completely ignore what i said?” you shake your head and smile at him “Do you think I’m like everyone else? I stabbed my dad almost thirty times, how bad can it be?” his face grows angry and he pushes the cake to the side. “One time I was in the ring I had to kill my opponent. The bloodier it was the better, so I ripped his windpipe from his throat. Another time I broke someone's neck just to get fed. Do you even know what it feels to get praised for taking someone's life?”

Without thinking you get closer, your noses almost touched as you did. “Yes, I do know what it feels like to get praised for taking someone’s life. They praised me the whole night for killing my father and later made me bury his corpse while my raped mother had to watch all of it. After i complied with them they slit her throat and left me laying in my mother’s blood while i wanted to die. The last thing they said before leaving me was “That’s what good girls do”, so don’t tell me i don’t know what it feels like. I know how people look at someone who had to survive something like this, I know it damn well.”

For a few seconds you two just stare at each other with wide and teary eyes. The mood is tense. The only thing you can hear is Jimin’s heavy breathing and you trying to not breathe at all. A tear leaves his eye and all of a sudden his lips find their way onto yours. You can’t grasp what is happening, your lips move by themselves. Your hand finds its way onto his cheek and he grabs the back of your neck caressingly. Never has a kiss felt like this, like the whole earth could explode and you wouldn’t care as long as you were kissing him.

But the thought of you two getting caught struck your mind and you stopped.

“W-why, did you stop?” his voice was a faint whisper. He knows why but he still feels the need to ask. “It felt good,” he continues. “We can’t be seen, Jimin” his face falls and he shakes his head “I don’t care” he whispers as you get up. “But i do, if they get a whiff of what just happened i won’t be allowed to meet you anymore.” you gather your stuff as he suddenly grabs your hand to stop you “I want you to adopt me” he almost shouts. You halt in your actions while your eyes widen.

“I realised that there is no person other than you who really cares about me. There’s no one who understands what I’ve been through. Not a single person can relate to what my life has been like. When I’m with you it feels like the whole universe disappears and there’s only you, you pull me out of those cruel thoughts, you take the pain away Y/N. Please adopt me” you can’t move. That’s not how you expected this whole thing to go. Of course you like him, there’s a connection and even feelings you can’t name but, it’s wrong. The way he sees it is wrong.

He sees a saviour who might rescue him from the life he used to live. To be honest, you’re ready to be that, his saviour, but is it the right thing to do, or to be?  “Why aren’t you saying anything? Am i not good enough? Do you want me to change? I can-”No, Jimin. I-I don’t really know if that is how you really feel-”Of course that is what i really feel like, i need you Y/N” he shouts.

You step back with a small yelp escaping your mouth. His eyes soften “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to yell at you” All of sudden two men rush across the garden just to push you away from him “Stop! You’re hurting her” he shouts as you harshly fall on your butt. This is his mother’s death all over. He wasn’t able to get to her and now he’s being held back while they push you around. They grab Jimin and try to get him going but he’s too focused to get to you “Y/N!” he screams and you are fast to get up “Sir, please let go”you shout, much to your displeasure he just blows you off. They push him to the floor getting him ready to be sedated. Jimin doesn’t comply, the only thing he does is shout your name.

You throw yourself to the floor to look into his eyes. His eyes are wide and his face wet from crying “Please, Y/N don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, god please.” he pleads between broken cries. “Jimin, hey, listen to me. i’m right here! I won’t leave you” he cries and cries as he slowly drifts into a deep slumber “I need you” he whispers before he’s completely knocked out.

You once again look at the man in front of you. Is it wrong to love someone you just met? You are no psychiatrist, you have nothing to lose, do you? The only thing you desire more than helping him out of the dark space he’s in, is hold him in your arms. To wipe his tears and tell him that everything will be fine.

-

You thought a lot about him and his pleading about adoption. He would fit, no doubt. You two share one soul. The apartment you live in is hybrid friendly and there’s enough space. Yesterday you got a call from the center asking you to come in and meet Jimin again since his condition has worsened. He hasn’t eaten properly for almost a week, he doesn’t speak or move from his bed and refuses to look at anyone other than you. 

You once again stand in front of the center unsure why you are here. Are you here to end something that never happened or continue something that has potential? You don’t know. But deep down you already know the answer

Helen waits for you at the front desk. She eagerly drags you along the long way to Jimin’s room. You remember the corridors and the two elevators as if you’ve walked those corridors a million times just to get to him. She doesn’t speak since she told you everything on the phone, she just escorts you to his room.

The door opens with the jingle of the keys and your heart breaks as you look inside. He’s curled up on his bed holding the fork you brought with you last week. He looks at it as if it’s a picture, telling him a story.

“Jimin” you whisper. His head moves slightly, needing to reassure what he was hearing. “Jimin, it’s me” you say once again.

He puts himself up on his feet and looks at you. His face seems thinner and his face is puffy from crying. You don’t know how someone could hurt him, how someone could force him to do things he didn’t want to or how someone could kill the one person who loved him. How someone could take everything he had, he ever was. You can’t understand it. You would give him everything. You would give your life for him if you could.

“Y/N” he breathes out. His eyes close and a small smile forms on his face. “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he says. Your body moves on its own as you walk towards him. You almost throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you left me” he chokes out.

“I’ll stay by your side as long as you need me, I told you that before. Don’t you ever think that I’ll leave you” you whispered into his chest. The comforting smell of his sweater grazes your nose. His tail wrapping around your legs in a comforting manner.

“What makes you think that I’m worth your love?” he whispers back and you can’t help but hold him tighter as your eyebrows furrow. “I’ll love you because you can’t love yourself, that’s fine with me.” Tears form in your eyes as his soften.

He sighs and strokes your back “Then please never leave me” he mumbles and you nod your head. “You won’t ever have to be alone, Park Jimin” he smiles and strokes your back as you look at him. “I’ll never leave you. I thought about it and I think it’s the best to have you by my side, I would like to adopt you” you smile. His breath stops for a moment as you finish your sentence.

His legs give in and you both rush to the floor. The dark strands of hair fall into his face and his sobs fill the room and you hug him tight. “You’ll have a home, a place where no one can hurt you. A place for you and me” he nods and you smile back at him

“I never thought that I'd ever escape this. I thought I’ll have to live like this, locked away like a mad person. Alone with my thoughts and what happened to me. But the second you came into my room I knew. I knew that all of this is going to change. That I’ll escape” you nod at him. “The moment I read about what happened to you, I knew that I would do everything I could to save you. I’ll give you the peace you deserve, I’ll love you until death does us apart, Park Jimin”

a/n: i hope you liked it, stop by at my masterlist for more works of mine.

#bts #bts masterlist #bts hybrid!au #bts mafia au #bts mafia!au #BTS jungkook #bts jungkook au #BTS jimin #bts jimin au #bts hybrid au #bts hoseok #bts hoseok au #bts rm #bts rm au #BTS suga #bts suga au #bts yoongi #bts yoongi au #bts taehyung #bts taehyung au #BTS jin #bts jin au #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #ctrbrokensouls

[fandom-necromancer]

Brothers take care of each others

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | Character: Elijah Kamski

The ceiling above him was still clad in total darkness, the sky outside the window turning light blue only at the horizon and stars sparkling peacefully. It was an hour that demanded everyone to stay in bed and get a couple hours’ worth of sleep. Yet Gavin laid in his bed and stared up at his ceiling unable to fall asleep ever since the call of ‘Hah, it worked!’ had woken him up ten minutes to four o’clock. Since then he tried to ignore the distant sounds of tools clattering to the floor. One thing was for sure: Sleeping over these noises was far easier than falling asleep to them. he cursed, looking at his alarm that read 4:30 completely indifferent to what that time meant for Gavin. He sighed deeply. There was no use staying under the sheets any longer, he was awake now. Might as well stand up.

Not bothering with any clothes other than the boxer shorts and the loose old T-shirt he had slept with, he opened the door and yawned heartily on his way to the bathroom. ‘Oh, you are awake!’ Gavin’s lids fell in resignation, as he showed his brother the middle finger and continued walking towards the bathroom without even looking at him. Ten minutes later, he had splashed some water in his face and had readied himself for another day. Sort of. He had zero interest in trimming his stubble and trying to hide the dark rings under his eyes was of no use either. At least he felt ready to deal with his brother now.

‘Morning’, he hummed as he entered the living room, stifling yet another yawn. ‘Good morning indeed.’ ‘Says you’, Gavin commented. ‘I didn’t phcking asked to be woken up at four.’ ‘Sorry. Forgot you’re not a morning person.’ ‘Nah, I’m normal, other than you’, he huffed. ‘Okay, I need a coffee now.’ ‘Perfect! Then you can already try out my improvements!’ Gavin stopped in the middle of the kitchen. ‘Improvements?’

‘Yes! I hooked up your coffee machine with the internet! It is now able to import recipes for any kind of coffee you might like and start brewing it – if you have given it the right ingredients of course.’ Gavin looked at Elijah with a face that expressed to equal measures pain and frustration. ‘And what about a regular damn coffee, like I always make it?’ ‘I called that program a “phcking” coffee’, Elijah mocked him, tapping at the display hastily attached to the machine. Gavin watched how his favourite mug filled with his life saving drink and sighed. ‘Oh, the wonders of technology…’ ‘Oh, then you will love what I did to your microwave!’

Gavin groaned, sipping on his coffee instead of commenting. It had only been three days so far and already Elijah had “improved” half of the technology he had in the house. He would have told him to stop, but as long as Elijah was busy tinkering with his stuff, he wouldn’t become bored. And if Gavin remembered one thing from his childhood, then he knew that was about the worst state one could meet his brother in. Even with Elijah no longer being part of Cyberlife, he was still an influential and rather public person. His latest talk about the autonomy of androids had had quiet the impact, especially in the anti-android community, as they had looked up to him as the creator of these “supposedly alive” machines. It shouldn’t have surprised Eli as much as it had that afterwards, people would come to him with their hate. But since someone had broken into his heavily secured house and had killed one of the Chloes without leaving as much as a trace, his home was an active crime-scene and it was either a hotel room or Gavin’s apartment for the man.

Elijah, curious as ever, had of course taken the latter, if not to spy on police investigation, then to spend a few weeks with his brother he hadn’t seen in ages. Not that Gavin really could complain - it was fun having him around. But he was also a usually very private person and Elijah’s constant energy had quickly started getting on his nerves.

‘And? When will you drive to work today?’, Elijah asked. ‘Still time for breakfast?’ Gavin sighed. ‘Yeah, sure. Want some toast? Don’t think I have much-‘ ‘I want to come with you.’ That made even sleep deprived Gavin suddenly attentive. ‘What?’ ‘To your workplace’, Eli explained. ‘I could find out more about the status of the investigation of my home. Also, I could finally see for myself who that certain android is you put an eye on!’ ‘I don’t- Elijah, you can’t just stay at the station. You are a civilian! I will keep you updated.’ ‘I’m also one of the richest men in the world. I doubt anyone would want to stop me.’ ‘I- Elijah, you still can’t-‘ ‘Come on!’, the man just talked over him. ‘It will be fun! I’ll drive us.’ Unable to stop his brother storming out of the flat with the keys, Gavin sighed, downed the rest of his coffee and hastily got dressed. That would be the worst day of his work life for sure.

-

‘So this is where you work. Interesting.’ ‘You’ve been here before’, Gavin grumbled, not really sure if he was more tired or more embarrassed at the moment. ‘Promise me you’ll leave me alone for at least the first hour, okay? I seriously have to get some stuff done.’ ‘Oh, of course!’ But despite his words, Elijah followed him to his desk. Gavin decided to ignore him in favour of starting up his terminal, but Nines had never been the one to hide what he was thinking: ‘Mr. Kamski? What are you doing here?’ ‘Oh, you must be Nines! I’m just accompanying my brother to work. Wanted to take a look at the place he keeps complaining about.’ ‘You can’t be here.’ ‘Well, but I am, am I not?’ ‘That… That really isn’t a valid argument.’ ‘Listen, Nines. How about instead of talking about something you can’t change anyways, you show me around a bit?’ Nines looked at Gavin for help, but it was his partner’s silent pleading him to “yes, please, get him away from me” that let him cave in. ‘Okay, but I can’t show you everything.’

Gavin watched them walk off and praised the blissful silence. He concentrated on the screen in front of him, knowing he had to finish all the important work now before Eli would come back and annoy him further. He loved his brother. But some distance was clearly needed after all these years. He actually managed to answer his mails and find himself back into his case, reviewing evidence and the first lab results that had come in regarding blood analysis and genetic information about the murderer. Then Nines and Elijah came back. Gavin saw him passing Fowler’s glass cube and his heart sunk. But then the door opened.

‘What the hell is Kamski doing here?’, the Captain shouted in the room, effectively silencing any conversations. ‘I wanted to take a look around’, Elijah simply answered. Fowler looked at him as if he had just lost his mind. ‘This is a police station! Not some kind of tourist attraction! You can’t be here.’ Every other person would have long apologised and run for their life with Fowler this angry, but Elijah stood his ground and smiled. ‘And you can’t make my brother work his ass off like a Lieutenant and still pay him Detective money, especially after his recent achievements, yet here we both are.’ In over eighteen years of working in this precinct, Gavin had never seen Fowler speechless. The man stared at Elijah, who smiled at him in all confidence, while most of the officers in the precinct seemed ready to duck behind their tables.

‘Leave’, was all the Captain pressed out. ‘Now.’ ‘Alright, don’t want any trouble.’ Elijah grinned, winked at Nines and made his way over to the door. ‘Gonna pick you up later, bro!’ Gavin didn’t give him any answer as he knit his brows and rubbed his forehead. Too little sleep, too much early morning conversation, too little coffee and now the whole precinct’s attention. Great. He just wanted to get his work done, get home and sleep. And exactly that he was going to do.

Until his break began and Nines approached him. With a sigh of regret, Gavin turned around and waited. ‘Is it true?’ ‘Is what true, tin-can? I had a really shitty day so far and I still can’t read minds.’ Nines shifted his weight on his other leg and continued: ‘Your brother… When I led him through the building, he told me you had a crush on me.’ Thinking about everything that could have happened today, Gavin certainly hadn’t expected that.

‘This asshole! I will phcking kill him, I swear!’ ‘So… It’s not true?’ ‘Hell, of course it’s true!’ Gavin froze. Why had he said that? ‘Oh.’ Gavin looked up at the android, that was smiling to himself, cheeks tinged blue. ‘That’s… nice to hear.’ ‘Is it?’ ‘I mean, I like you a lot, Gavin. To learn it’s mutual is… very nice.’ Gavin sighed deeply, holding his head. ‘I will phcking kill him…’ ‘Are you not happy about this?’ ‘Phck, Nines, I am. I really am. But I’m tired, I have an annoying as phck brother at home that just won’t shut up and I really wanted to ask you out any other way than this.’

‘I understand’, the android nodded. ‘But it’s nice to have it out now, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Yeah it is. Listen, I… Let’s forget this happened for just this day, okay? I will leave early today, speak to my brother about all of this and if I’m not charged with murder tomorrow morning, how about we do this properly? Tomorrow is your free day, right?’

Nines nodded and smirked. ‘Call me if you need to hide the body.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Elijah Kamski #I hope this isn't as bad as my brain makes me think it is and you still enjoyed it #if not let me know I can try again

[astral-space-dragon]

Oh, Crepe! He’s in Love... Ch9

Almost there, babes! All comin together!

Like my work? Leave a tip!

Read on AO3!

tagging: @harlot-of-oblivion @novashine666 @legallblindgamer727 @vergol

Summary: Vergil gets ready for the "not date" by going out and getting some much needed "nice clothes". Nice clothes that are not torn and dirty. Will he find what he's looking for?

Meanwhile, you're "convinced" to go shopping with Lady and Trish for the "not date". Will the trip be fruitful? Or a total bust?

Vergil POV

Vergil stands outside the men's clothing store. Dante had told him of this store and said that he and Nero would meet up with him. Well… he's been standing outside this store for almost an hour. He's sure the working humans inside are starting to grow suspicious of him. Just as he's about to leave, he sees Dante and Nero walk from around the corner.

"Took you long enough…" he growls.

Dante waves his hand dismissively "We're here, aren't we?"

Vergil rolls his eyes as the three enter the store. An older employee greets them "Hello! How are you gentlemen doing, today?"

Dante roughly slaps Vergil's shoulder "My dear big brother has a date, tomorrow. Gonna find some things to spruce him up"

The man smiles and leaves them be.

Vergil zooms away from Dante and wanders up and down the store. As he wanders, Nero asks "You know what you're going to wear?"

Vergil hums thoughtfully "I'm not too sure. I don't want to overdress…"

Nero nods "Makes sense. No tux, but not a slob like Dante"

"I heard that!" Dante calls out from the other side of the store.

Vergil chuckles as he continues to look around.

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

As he eyes the watches, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks up to see Nero.

"Dante said found a few things. Thinks you'll like them"

Vergil follows Nero to where Dante and a tailor are. Vergil crosses his arms "Show me"

Dante grins impishly as he shows his brother his pick: a dark navy dress shirt, black waistcoat, and a dark navy tie. All paired with black dress pants and black Oxford shoes.

Vergil eyed the outfit before humming in approval.

He takes the clothes and goes to change into them. He removes his coat and vest, then his boots and trousers. He eyes the scars that litter his body, reminders of his imprisonment and past sins. His fingers run along the long scar that's in the middle of his body, from his chest to his navel. He runs his hand over the star-like scar on his chest… right over his heart. He looks down to his hands. For a quick moment, he sees blood dripping from his hands. Crimson force dripping onto the concrete floor of the tower. Sullied hands quivering.

He's jolted from his thoughts when he hears a tap on the wall.

"Verge, you alright?" he hears Dante ask.

Vergil swallows the lump in his throat before answering with as much aloofness as he can muster "I'm fine, Dante"

He hears his brother leave. He sighs and shakes the dazed feeling from his head.

He slips on the trousers and smiles upon finding out how snug they feel. Then he puts the dress shirt on; he buttons it up before tucking it in. He slips on the shining black shoes. Perfect fit. Lastly, he puts the tie on. He looks at himself in the mirror as he folds his sleeves so that they were just below his elbows.

He steps out of the small changing stall. Nero stares… stunned. A smile grows on Dante's face "Looking good, bro!"

Vergil fights the blush as he goes to the tailor. He watches in the mirror as the young man makes quick adjustments to the clothes and shines the shoes. After a few minutes, everything was done.

The young tailor steps back "What do you think, sir?"

Vergil looks at every angle. He gives a curt nod "Perfect"

The tailor smiles widely "Very good! Go ahead and change so I can pack it for you"

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

After changing back to his clothes, Vergil gives the folded clothes to the tailor, who rushes to pack them up.

In his peripheral, Vergil notices Dante paying the older employees. Did he buy something for himself?

Dante waves at Vergil "You're stuff's all paid for, bro!"

Vergil's train of thought came to a screeching halt. Dante paid for the clothes? Why? His attention is diverted when the younger employee returns with his clothes, all packed and ready to go. Vergil nods in thanks as he returns to the front of the store where Dante and Nero waited.

As the three leave the clothing store, Vergil's mind drifts to you, wondering what you're going to wear tomorrow.

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

Normal POV

You try to resist as Lady and Trish drag you up and down the outdoor mall.

"Hold on! Why are we going all over? I can just work with what I have at home---"

Lady shoots down that suggestion immediately "Nope! This is your first date. You're getting gussied up!"

You groan "Come on, Lady…"

Lady ignores your pleas as she and Trish drag you into a store.

Lady seats you in a leather armchair "You sit here. Trish and I are going to pick out clothes for you"

"Now I'm really afraid" you say with a deadpan look.

Lady rolls her eyes with a chuckle "Have a little more faith in us, Y/N"

You snicker "Uh huh"

You wait in the armchair as Lady and Trish walk up and down the store, grabbing something as they go. Your eyes widen a fraction when you see Trish picking out what looks like… a leather dress? Oh no. Trish, why?

After sitting that chair for almost twenty minutes, Lady and Trish return to you, each carrying a stack of clothes. You gawk at the stacks as Lady says "Alright. Let's try these on!"

You internally groan as you're pulled to your feet.

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

For the next two hours, you try on the countless outfits that your two friends picked out for you. From rompers to snug-fitting dress. A small handful of dresses were promising, but none of them felt like you.

As you remove the tight leather dress that Trish had you try on, you can't help but feel dejected. Nothing felt right on you.

You exit the dressing room with a frown. Trish immediately asks "What's wrong?"

You sigh "None of these felt right on me… I didn't feel like myself" you look down at the floor as you mumble "I should just settle on a dress that felt okay"

Lady is quick to shoot that down "No, Y/N. If you settle on something, you're not going to be in a good mood during the date---"

You chuckle dryly "It's likely not a date, Lady… who am I kidding…"

Lady sags her shoulders. She pats your shoulder in comfort "How about we find another store? I think the problem with this place is the clothes are too hoity-toity"

You shrug "Maybe…"

The dark haired arsenal takes your hand and leads you up and down the outdoor mall, giving you time to look at each store.

Just as you're starting to lose hope, you stop in your tracks in front of a store. Curious, you walk inside and straight to a mannequin. On the mannequin, is a simple black dress. Just above the knee. A black strip of fabric wraps around the waist and is tied into a small bow in the back. On the upper back of the mannequin, the dress is wrapped around the shoulders and forms an 'X'. A simple dress, but beautiful. You immediately find an employee and ask for the dress in your size. The second you get the dress, you make a beeline for the dressing rooms.

After quickly changing, you step out into the room with a smile. Lady and Trish's eyes widen. Trish smile "Looks like you found something"

You nod, still smiling "All I need to find are shoes to go with this"

Lady asks "What about these?"

You look over to see her holding a pair of black flats with little cupcakes on the toes. You try them on and immediately fall in love with the shoes.

Once everything was paid for and bagged you, Lady and Trish walked you home.

When you return to the shop, you turn to Lady and Trish and bid them farewell.

Lady smirks "If the date turns out to be shit, call me. I'll kick Vergil's ass"

You giggle "I don't think that'll be necessary"

Lady hums "Maybe… thought I'd let you know either way"

Another giggle spills out of you "Alright, Lady" you open the front doors and wave "See you ladies whenever. Gotta make dinner for the two devils"

You close the doors and greet Dante, who is seated at the desk "Hey, Dante. Long day?"

Dante shrugs "Nah. Relatively easy day"

You nod with a hum "Alright. I'm going to put this away and start dinner"

Dante waves his hand in acknowledgement as you head to your room.You give Vergil a quick smile as you walk by his bedroom.

When you enter your bedroom, you are surprised to see Nero standing in front of your bureau.

"Nero?" you call out.

Nero jolts as he sharply turns around "Mom!" he exclaims nervously as he hides his hand behind his back "H-how was shopping with Lady and Trish?"

"It was lovely…" you say with uncertainty "Found a couple of things that I liked"

Nero clears his throat "T-that's good…"

You cock your head as you eye the arm behind his back "What have you got there?"

Nero's eyes dart all over the room. You honestly find it a bit adorable.

With a sideways smile, you raised an eyebrow "Nero… what do you have?"

With a red face, Nero holds out a small jewelry box "For you…" he squeaks.

Now, you're curious. You take the box and open it. You gasp softly as the contents inside. In the little box is a bracelet. A charm bracelet. Each charm was a type of bread and pastry; all on a simple silver chain.

"Nero…"

Nero scratched the back of his neck "I saw it when I was out today and… I thought you'd like it"

You smile softy "I love it, Nero"

Nero smiles at your words. You place the box on your bureau and wrap your arms tightly around the young hunter. Nero is quick to return the embrace. Still smiling, you stand on your toes and plant little kisses all over Nero's face.

"Mooooom…" the young quarter devil groans, though he makes no attempt to stop you.

You eventually pull away from Nero and ask "Would you like to help me with dinner?"

Nero quickly nods "Yeah!"

You giggle as you and Nero leave your room "Hope you're in the mood for rigatoni"

#my wirting #the quickest way to a devil's heart #devil may cry #vergil x reader

[heavymetalover]

Heresy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: You’re a witch visiting the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, aiding to your fallen Supreme, Cordelia, when suddenly engaging in a spontaneous rendezvous with the Boy Wonder himself, Michael Langdon.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, light choking, fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, dom/sub, hickies, rough sex, daddy kink.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: back with another one shot after a depressive episode hahaaaaa fuck

feel free to ask me stuff, i may get to a request if i have time. also i needa follow more ahs/cody blogs since im slowly morphing back into an ahs blog so ill try to follow everyone back! anyways 

enjoy:)

~~~~

 Ever since your arrival at Hawthorne, you’ve been enamored with the talk of the town. Mr. Bigshot Michael Langdon. You came with Cordelia, the plane ride made you nauseated. Not from the immoderate turbulence, but from the thought of your Supreme falling. You all had doubts, thought that Michael was just another powerful warlock, nothing too menacing; but when Michael brought back your sisters from the dead, something Cordelia couldn’t even do, you knew he was a threat.

Michael is one of the few people on this Earth you’ve met with unbreakable confidence. He holds his head high, a cunning smirk enduringly secured on his full pink lips. Yet something about him is also so child-like. His power excites him and he’s always quick to engage in conversation about himself; almost giddy with his effervescent wit, yet beautifully controlled.

You don’t know what made you want to engage with this man, the most you’ve ever done with him is shake his hand. There was a moment he brushed against you, you felt a hard bulge in his pants lightly brush against your ass, his big hand squeezing your shoulder as he wedged himself past you, lingering slightly and feeling as if he purposely was pushing his pelvis against you. You dismissed your suspicions of this minor interaction, explaining it away as a whimsical delusion plagued by your hormonal, juvenile brain. Although, you wanted more than anything to believe he was coming onto you, you were here to support the witches. Your sisters. Not the desperate, power-driven warlocks.

It’s late in the evening, Cordelia passed out on the couch in the common area while the other witches attempt to nurse her to health, a few of them nearly falling asleep next to her. For some odd reason, your eyes are resisting sleep tonight. You’re carelessly flipping through a book, eyes grazing over the tiny words. Your mind is preoccupied with something else, someone else. Constantly glancing around the room just in hopes you’d catch a glimpse of his golden curls reflecting the candlelight, or even his black cloak dramatically flowing behind him, something, anything to feed your hunger.

You presume a few hours have passed now; the whole school has gone silent except for a thumping bass in the distance. Once you fixate on the noise, your eyebrows knit in confusion. You thought you were the last person awake. You shut the book you’ve been neglecting and set it back on the shelf, prudently pursing the bass-y melody. Your heels echoing in the empty halls, stopping dead in your tracks when you come to the hall where the music originates. You walk through the arch into the rich, golden hallways lit up by flickering candles. Hard rock music blaring from a closed door, but it becomes obvious who’s room it is as you get closer. You can recognize his scent from a mile away. The music comes from Michael’s room.

You ball your fist, ready to pound his door and tell him to turn down his music, but pause before you can make contact with the door. You hear low groans over the music, momentarily mistaking them to be apart of the song, but soon realizing it’s Michael’s voice when he grunts out a loud “fuck!”

Your jaw drops, just hearing his moans on the other end of the door makes your heart sink. With little hesitation, you press your ear against the door, your earring hitting the polished wood and making a louder clink than you expected. Michael doesn’t seem to notice, continuing his low moans from inside the room.

You initially came with the intention of telling him off, giving him a much-needed reality check that the world doesn’t revolve around him. But you’re compelled to put all of that on hold and keep listening, laying your palm against his wooden door and resting on it, catching yourself pretending it’s Michael’s sturdy, defined body. You know you shouldn’t be so thirsty for him; he exudes arrogance out of his pores, exhausting and intoxicating you all at once. You’d never admit it, but buried deep down, you know you like that about him. You like his hubris, it makes you fantasize about how possessive he’d be when fucking you, how he’d humiliate you.

You run your hand down the door panel and press your cheek harder against the wood. Your other hand reaching underneath your short, lacey black dress. The scent of his cologne is strong enough to have tainted the door. You bask in the gritty, manly pheromones, starting to rub your aching clit in small circles. Your lips grazing the door as you quicken your pace, listening to his loud music and touching yourself to the rhythm. You can see why he listens to it; it’s even helping you get more into the mood.

You’re practically kissing the door when you almost fall flat onto the floor by somebody swinging it open. You regain your balance and collect yourself, feeling your face burning red with embarrassment. Michael’s icy blue eyes scope the situation for a moment, landing on you, then the door, then your hand on your crotch. You pull it away after Michael’s already found it. Shit. He clears his throat. “Y/n,” he talks to you slow, as if you were a toddler, “what the fuck?”

Your mind sets aside his condescending tone for a moment to revel in the fact that he knows your name; though you mentally beat yourself up right after for being so desperate and putting your dignity on the backburner. It takes you a split second to spew out your reply, “I-I could ask you the same.” You bite your tongue in hopes he didn’t linger too much on your stumble. “I could hear your music all the way from the common room, people are trying to sleep.”

“And why aren’t you?” he leans both his arms against the doorframe, looking so lackadaisical and impossibly sexy. You hate him for it.

“I was watching over Cordelia,” you lie, although you wish it was true. You know the only reason is because of him, because your thoughts always come back to his beautiful, smug face.

“I don’t believe you,” he says with a slight shake to his head, his lively curls bobbing with each movement.

You know you should just leave the situation now and give him one last nudge to turn down his music, but something inside you urges you to entertain his question. “Why don’t you believe me?” you ask, bouncing back and forth on the tiny heels of your stilettos. “What else would I be doing?” you wish you could swallow the words back up as soon as they leave your mouth.

He squints his eyes at you as if you had just asked the dumbest question on the planet. “Listening to me,” he shoots back, “and…” His eyes trail down to your crotch and he raises a brow. He doesn’t audibly declare your actions, as if saying the words aloud will frame the situation to be even more perverted than it already is.

“And touching myself,” you finish his sentence, taking a step closer to him.

There’s a certain energy to him, a sinister overtone even when a stupid grin spreads across his face. “You’re a nasty little witch, aren’t you?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

The tension becomes thicker with each pause, you feel your breathing getting uneven, mouth watering, a numbness to your fingertips. Michael looks completely unphased, still holding himself with the utmost confidence. “Maybe that’s for you to decide,” you reply gingerly, “sir.”

He inches himself closer to you until his nose barely brushes the tip of yours. “I think you are,” he whispers. You gulp down all the excess water in your mouth, just looking at him makes you hungry for more. He aggressively takes a chunk of your hair and pulls your head back, the candles in the hallway burn out. Did you do that?

He gives a measly scoff at your powers before turning back to you. Michael leans closer, his lips shave yours ever so slightly. Hooded eyes surveying every inch of your face, pulling tighter and smiling at your wince in pain. “You want me?” he asks, lips lugging against yours, but rejecting the satisfaction of a kiss.

“Yes,” you let out a breathy whisper. “I do, sir.” An attempt to kiss him results in your hair being mercilessly tugged again. It hurt to the point you felt a burning behind your eyes, tears threatening to appear, but you wouldn’t dare tell him to stop. At this point, you’d do anything Michael wanted you to do, be anything he wanted you to be.

He drags the back of his moist tongue down your neck and stops at the base, laying his lips down and lightly sinking his teeth into you, sucking up the salty sweat on your skin. You unexpectedly moan at his ardor, eyes darting around the hall for witnesses. He sucks vigorously, eliciting a surprised gasp from you each time he sucks harder. Deciding he’s done when your neck feels on fire, his mouth parts from your flesh with a delicious smack.

He releases his tight grasp from your hair, now clutching the back of your neck with a death grip, squeezing like he owns your body. A light groan dies on his lips as he comes back to your face, lips touching again. “I smelt you as soon as you came to my door, I know the smell of a witch well.” Neither of you make an effort to pull away, he uses one of his slender arms to caress the side of your body, moving along your curves. “I know the smell of a drenched cunt, too.” His hand finds your pussy and to his avail, he’s correct.

Sliding your panties to the slide, he thumbs your core. You grab his toned arm for balance as he touches your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly with ease. “You eavesdropped on me fucking myself, huh?” his tone turns rough. “Invading my privacy…” he continues through gritted teeth as if he was holding back on cussing you out completely. He rubs you harder and faster, your face contorting as you grab onto him tighter. You bite your tongue to hold back screams, almost forgetting that you were standing outside of his room, but the thrill of getting caught turns you on even more. You can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs. “You like invading my privacy,” he starts again, rubbing harder than ever. You feel yourself getting pushed to the edge, biting your tongue so hard you draw blood. “Say it,” he demands.

“I like invading your… f-fuck! Y-your privacy,” it takes all your power to form a coherent sentence. Your pussy convulses under his fingers and he takes them away, leaving an agonizing throbbing in your clit.

He pulls you by your wrist into his room, shutting the door behind him. His lips automatically connect to yours, aggressively tongue-fucking your face, barely stopping to take a breath. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks breathlessly. “You want to be used like a whore?”

You smile at his crudeness; his dirty talk sends chills throughout your core. “Yes, daddy,” you respond softly, returning to his kisses. He grins against your kiss at this little nickname. A childish whimper escaping your lips when his pants rub against your unfinished cunt.

He pulls away to tug his black shirt over his head, you take the moment apart to slip off your tight dress. “I was hoping you’d stop by after I pushed myself into you,” he grins. A wave of relief passes through you when you realize that moment you shared with him wasn’t a product fabricated by being overly imaginative. “I knew your body would be mine the moment I saw you in that tight little dress.”

“I wore it just for you,” you speak your words with a sugary sweetness to match your frenzied desperation for him to fill you up. “My body is all yours.”

“I know,” he sneers. He pushes you onto the bed, towering over you as he claws off your panties. His skin slightly glistened in sweat, intimately lit by the dim lighting in his room. You’ve never seen someone look so goddamn sexy. He runs a hand through his perfect golden waved hair before settling himself between your legs. The first contact he makes is licking up your hot cunt before reintroducing his fingers. It won’t take much more to make you come since he started you off in the hall.

Now that you’re in the comfort of his room, you let all your moans escape as loud as you want. “Fuck, Michael!” you yell, hoping the music is loud enough to mask your screams. His tongue pulses against your dripping pussy as his slim fingers work your clit again. You shut your eyes as tight as you can and pull at the sheets of his bed, feeling the vibration of his moans against your cunt and the cadence of the song, everything turns you on.

Just not enough.

I need more.

Nothing seems to satisfy.

I said, I don’t want it.

I just need it.

To breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive.

Michael’s finger slides inside your pussy, pulsing to his own rhythm, speeding up before you can adjust to his intensity. He adds another finger flicking up inside your pussy, tickling your g-spot with each tap. “Fu-” you can’t even release your cursing. “Right there, right there,” you breathe, not sure your words are even audible. Michael begins pacing his tongue over your ripened clit, continuing to fuck you with his long fingers and rub your slit with his thumb, making sure every nerve is stimulated.

You yank his sheets, trying to sit up and watch him devour you, but dropping back onto the bed in defeat. “S-so good,” you cry. He speeds up even more and you yelp. He snickers at your titillation, sending a flood of heat against your cunt. “I’m,” is the only word you can get out before fauceting a stream of clear liquid from your hole.

Michael leans back, letting your pussy release all of the built-up tension. His face scrunches up inquisitively as you come all over his bed. Once you’re done leaking and completely out of breath, Michael glances at you in disbelief. “Wow,” is the only word that can cross his lips before licking up the excess filth that splashed onto your thighs. He climbs on top of you to plant a kiss on your begging lips, you taste your salty juices in his mouth. He parts from the kiss and you lick yourself off of your lips. “That’s my dirty girl,” he praises.

He takes both of your arms and pulls you to sit up on his bed. You’re so lost in ecstasy that you can’t even process Michael slipping his pants down in front of you and the enormous protrusion occupying his boxers. You get thrown back into the fire when his lengthy erection springs out and slaps your cheek. Your brain reacts as if programmed to be his little sex toy. You grab his cock in your hands and shove it down your throat. “Show me how grateful you are that I let you come,” he rocks his hips into your face. You grab his hips to push his dick even further into your mouth, working past your gags and pushing as deep as you can. Every time he thrusts you feel yourself choke on his length, “You like the way I fuck your face, huh? You like how I treat you like a dirty hole?”

You pull him out of your mouth, inhaling the smell of his cologne and spitting on the pink tip of his hard cock. You haven’t seen a dick this big outside of porn, maybe not even in porn. You stroke his length, giving yourself time to recover before shoving him back down your throat. You lick up his balls and he groans, beginning to reposition your head for sucking.

You open your mouth and he shoves himself back in, plunging to the back of your throat. You feel your mouth coat his dick with saliva, choking back on his precum and slurping back all of the juices. You run your hand up and down his shaft, feeling like you’re only able to guzzle down half of his dick. You pull it out of your mouth to spit on his glazed cock, continuing to jerk his shaft. You go back to sucking, bobbing your head up and down as fast as you can and releasing his cock to spit on it. He throws his head back as you continue mouth fucking him. “Goddamn!” he shouts, rocking himself into you even harder. You gag on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, he loves this. “Let me see your eyes,” he requests. You look up at him, blinking out your tears. “Fuck me,” he sighs before pulling himself out of your mouth, a white substance oozing from his hole.

You fight to catch your breath as he’s already repositioning you. Pushing you onto all fours and spitting on your cunt before entering. “I can’t wait to stretch out those tight little walls,” he says, teasing his cock up and down your folds. “Say it’s okay,” he begs, his cock pressed against your hole. Your heart skips when he says this. You nod your head, too in shock to conjure an answer. “I want to hear you say it,” he presses.

You gulp down your nervousness, trying not to appear stunned by his need for approval. “I want you to stretch out my walls, daddy,” you finally answer, using your hands to spread your pussy wide for him. “Fuck me until I can’t walk,” you plead, wiggling your tailbone and pushing his erection into your cunt.

This is admission enough for him, he inserts the head and you feel your whole-body tremble. His cock is so thick, you can really feel your pussy stretching for him. He grabs your hips and slowly starts adding some of his length. You tense up and grab his arm, he stops immediately. “Just relax, relax baby,” he reassures you.

You take a deep breath in and he pushes himself into you on exhale, placing a hand on the small of your back as he goes deeper… and deeper and deeper, as if his dick is bottomless. You find yourself pulling at his sheets again, more tears forming in your eyes. He starts rocking his hips, cramming his large cock into your tight pussy. Each push begins loosening you up, your pain turning into pleasure as he inserts more of himself into you. “Good girl,” he flatters, giving a small smack to your ass and making you jump.

Both of you moaning in pleasure, fucking to the rhythm of the song playing. The instruments enveloping you and you push yourself even more against his dick, wanting to feel all of him inside you. “Give it all to me,” you demand, pushing him deeper inside of you. You both sigh with how deep he’s getting. “Fuck me, daddy,” you hear yourself wailing like a child.

“M’yeah?” he breathes, taking it as a challenge. In an instant, he executes your request, shoving himself balls deep, filling your guts with his thick length. Taken aback, you accidentally knock out all the lights in his room with a squeal, leaving behind a single candle on the opposite side of his room. The wind gets knocked out of you; breath unsteady. You can’t summon any words to your lips, just incessant choked sobs that wither away at the back of your throat.

He keeps pounding himself into you, his balls slapping your clit and sending goosebumps throughout your body. “You like being your coven’s dirty slut?” he spits, giving another hard slap to your ass. You can’t bring yourself to answer him. He drills so deep into you that you can feel him hammering your cervix. You can’t take him anymore and autonomously shift yourself away from him with a raucous scream, crawling away from his thick cock, but Michael chases. He clicks his tongue. “Don’t run away from it, baby,” he teases as you keep shifting.

You stop crawling away once you reach the edge of his bed, his cock sitting idly inside your tight pussy as he catches up. He breaks the lull and starts pumping into you quickly again, this time pinning your arms behind your back. “No more running away,” he taunts. You feel your pussy spasming with each plunge, your muscles adjusting to his fat cock, but they never seem to process it. You can’t stop moaning, screaming for more. You roll your eyes back and drop your head in defeat, taking the hard pounding to your cunt. “That’s it, baby,” he sighs. “Take all of daddy’s cock like a good slut.”

He guides himself into you, salaciously smacking into your round ass with each thrust. You feel like your whole body is crumbling under his touch, one more move and you’d be pure dust. Your heartbeat quickened, body shaking, numbness in your legs, you know you’re close to coming. You close your eyes shut, clenching your jaw, stifled moans escaping animalistically from the back of your throat. You squeeze one of Michael’s arms as he continues holding your hands behind your back. Papers fly off his desk, the music volume fluctuates, you can’t believe how strong your powers are becoming under him.

“C’mon, baby,” he continues assaulting your cunt with hard thrusts, “come for me. Come for daddy.” He wraps a large hand around your throat, hitching your breath, and directs your body to be flush against his. Your back against his chest, creating friction as he keeps with the same fervor. His lips against your ear, “Who’s your Supreme now, baby?”

The thought of Cordelia decaying on the couch in the common space right now crosses your mind, but being under Michael’s influence sends dark thoughts rushing in your head. Who cares? “You, Michael. You’re my new Supreme,” you answer with a strangled sob.

He pushes you back onto the bed, burying your head into his mattress. You suck up his scent through the fabric; drooling onto his sheets while being fucked senseless, you love the way he uses you. “That’s right, baby,” he affirms, “I’m the fucking Supreme.”

He gives another smack, and with that, a trembling throughout your entire body. “Michael, I’m coming!” you scream, trying to lift yourself up, but he keeps pushing you down. “Michael, I’m-!” you get cut off by the unyielding orgasm overtaking your body. Your mouth hangs open, eyes rolled back, fingers digging into his sheets. The lower half of your body surrenders to the orgasm gushing juices from your already-soaking cunt.

Michael sneers over you coming before him, but he’s close to release too. You flip onto your back and he fondles your breasts, throwing his head back and letting out a deep sigh. His skin turns a sickeningly pale white, his eyes meet yours, completely blacked out. He leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, his skin burning hot. Why aren’t you scared?

Although you were certain you had lost feeling between your legs from orgasm, when he thrusts himself into you, the hardest he has yet, you can’t help but let out a little yelp. You feel his hot seed spilling into your cunt, he takes himself out of you, smearing his come into your folds with the tip of his cock. You don’t even give yourself the opportunity to dwell on what happened to Michael during orgasm, why he looked so evil. You write it off as maybe-it’s-a-warlock-thing.

He collapses next to you, skin returning to it’s usual light tan and eyes reverting to a deep blue. So blue that you can fall right into them. Oh, your mind wanders, how will you ever hide this from Cordelia? Or worse, how could you explain yourself to her? Face her at this time?

Michael rests his palm on your cheek, swaying your gaze towards him and snapping you out of your daze. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about Cordelia,” he assures you. Fuck, he was listening.

He plants a soft kiss on your lips, much more loving than anything else he’s done with you tonight. “Cordelia is falling. Remember, I’m your Supreme now… and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

#hello #another music inspired smutty fanfic lol whats new #xavier fic prob coming soon oop #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #apocalypse #smut #hawthorne michael #xavier plympton #ahs imagine #michael langdon smut #ahs #michael langdon x fem reader #ahs fanfic #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon imagine #imagine

[refinedbuffoonery]

Riley + Sunglasses + Undercover (7)

masterlist.

Read it on AO3. 

Second to last chapter! All I can say about this one is....there will be lots of screaming when y’all are done reading. 

*****

Riley was vaguely aware of Mac turning off the shower as she muted her comms and pulled her hair out of her face between waves of nausea. His soft “Holy shit” barely even registered over her own voice in her head, replaying the conversation with Petrov. 

Call off your dogs and let us and everyone else leave the hotel, and in exchange I will return your locket and won’t expose you as a fraud.

Over and over and over again, her mind replayed the moment where she’d threatened to throw him out the window and watch him splatter on the ground. 

And if I don’t agree?

Then I will use my recording of this conversation to clone your voice and command your men to stand down myself before throwing your useless body out the window and taking bets on which direction your blood will spray when you splatter on the pavement.

Unwillingly, she pictured doing just that. While falling, Petrov flailed his arms and legs, like if he just tried hard enough, he could grab onto thin air and save himself. He landed on the concrete like a wet sock. 

The mental image made Riley puke again, bile burning her throat. 

She’d liked it. The thrill of power, the high-stakes challenge, the adrenaline rush while threatening Petrov. For ten minutes, she was the kind of woman who could stand her ground against Matty the Hun. Riley understood now why Matty fed her reputation as a cold-hearted bitch. A persona like that was brutal, but effective. Riley liked wearing that mask, and that scared the shit out of her more than anything else. 

Mac stroked her spine, murmuring “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His touch didn’t electrify her. It didn’t send her pulse racing and make her breathing uneven. Instead, his touch was soothing, relaxing--grounding her in reality. 

When there was nothing left in her stomach, she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. Mortification creeped over her as she realized Mac was kneeling beside her wearing a towel. Wearing only a towel.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. She needed to get out of there. God, she needed to get out of there right fucking now because the worry creasing his face and his lack of clothes and the fact that she’d just threatened to murder someone in cold blood and kind of liked it was too much to handle all at once. 

Mac looked at her intently, completely not caring that he was practically naked. “What happened?” She looked away instead of answering. ”Riley?” 

Riley spied his earpiece sitting on the counter--confirmation he had no idea what she’d said to Petrov. “Mac, I...the person I was in there...she was terrifying. And the worst part was the longer I was her, the easier it was. I liked being her, and then it got out of control.” She met his eyes. Whatever he saw in her face hit him like a punch to the gut; he sucked in a breath and momentarily froze. His reaction vanished in a flash, but Riley didn’t miss it. God, what did he think of her right now? 

As if in answer, Mac pulled her into a hug, strong arms holding her steady. “It’s over,” he cooed. “You did what you had to do.” The second his arms wrapped around her, Riley felt all the tension begin to drain from her body, a shuddering sigh escaping her lips in relief. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Riley buried her face in his neck, arms weakly raising so she could cling to his broad, surprisingly cool shoulders. She didn’t have the energy to wonder why his skin was so cold. 

Riley focused on the feeling of his hands on her body--one squeezing her waist, the other pressed below her shoulder. It felt as though Mac was the only thing stopping the world from dropping out from under her and sending her plummeting into an abyss of things she didn’t necessarily want to confront. 

There was something extremely intimate about sitting on the bathroom floor with Mac that had nothing to do with feelings or the fact that he was essentially naked. Intimacy had nothing to do with sex, and it had everything to do with truth. Being able to tell someone her truth, show someone her most vulnerable self, and their response was You’re safe. I’ve got you.-- that was intimacy. Riley didn’t hesitate to let Mac see her at her most vulnerable. And when faced with her vulnerability, Mac tucked her into his chest and reminded her she didn’t have to deal with shit alone. He wasn’t great at verbal reassurances, but Riley didn’t mind. All she needed was for him to just be there. 

I love you, she thought. Almost as if he were responding, Mac pressed a light kiss to her bare shoulder. They’d broken so many boundaries already that night she didn't think twice about it. It just felt right. 

Taking in a shaky breath, Riley let the scent of expensive soap and Mac fill her lungs as she fully leaned into him, trusting him to support her no matter what. 

“How did you get the scar on your right arm?” he asked after a few minutes of soothing silence. She knew what he was doing. Riley welcomed the distraction. 

“Which one?” 

“On your forearm, below your elbow. I felt it earlier.” 

She finally pulled away. “Oh, that one. I burnt myself while straightening my hair a couple weeks ago. Turns out hot tools and earthquakes are not a good combination.” Her joke fell flat, but Mac had the decency to smile anyway. 

That stupid smile. That stupid smile on his stupid handsome face with his stupid chiseled jaw and his stupid blue eyes. She looked away. 

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid. 

Mac’s hand slid down her back, a brief, light touch. It was nothing more than a simple I’m here. Even though it was meant to be friendly and supportive, it set her every nerve on fire. Mac’s hand fell away too quickly, as if he didn’t intend to touch her at all.

She could still feel his lips from their last kiss. 

For five minutes, he was just her best friend, but now those pesky feelings were back, full force. She didn’t know enough biology to explain the pain in one’s chest when all they wanted was to be with someone. All she knew was that it hurt. A lot. Those little touches transformed from her lifeline to her destruction. 

Riley glanced back at him and found Mac studying her. There was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t normally there. Just enough to make her wonder...no. He didn’t like her like that. Didn’t want her like that. 

Regardless, the look reminded her that she owed him an apology. “I’m sorry I snapped earlier. You can call me ‘Riles.’” She missed the nickname. 

“Okay.” He cupped her cheek, fingertips tangling in her thick hair. She fought the urge to lean into his touch. “What do you need right now, Riles?” It was too much. The look in his eyes, the hand gently cradling her face--he did everything right, and it was all too much, and something inside her snapped. It might’ve been her heart. 

“I need you to stop looking at me like you want me, because we both know you don’t.” 

He recoiled as if she’d slapped him in the face. Clearly she’d hurt him, but she didn’t care. The stolen glances, standing too close, holding doors open for her and only her--stuff they’d done for years--all of it needed to stop. What used to be normal was now a cruel trick. The universe laughed while it played her for a fool. 

She loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone, and he only saw her as a friend, or worse, a sibling. 

Riley stood and walked to the sink to rinse her mouth out, snatching the tiny bottle of mouthwash on the counter. In the mirror, she watched Mac scramble to his feet, barely catching his towel before it slipped. 

“Riles--” 

She spat the mouthwash into the sink, the taste of bile mercifully gone. “For fuck’s sake Mac, put your pants on.” Riley threw the empty mouthwash bottle into the trash with too much force and stormed out of the bathroom. She heard the frantic rustle of fabric as Mac got dressed. He’d be out in seconds. 

She needed to commit to breaking her heart now. Stringing herself along on false hope was destroying her. Her feelings were unrequited, end of story. She was stupid to think them finding themselves alone in a hotel room would turn out the way she wanted it to. She and Mac might act like more than friends, but they were, in fact, just friends with very few boundaries. 

He practically ran out of the bathroom, footsteps muffled by the carpet. “Riley, what is going on?” Mac grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him. 

“Let go of me,” she growled. He released her wrist immediately. It was unfair, she knew, to direct all the anger she felt at herself toward him, but she did it anyway. 

“Is it because I kissed you? I know you said it was okay, but if it wasn’t I need you to tell me, Riles.” He sounded like he was on the verge of panic. 

Maybe it was his tone, or the wild look in his eyes, but something about him in that moment pushed her over the edge, sending her plummeting past the point of no return. 

“No.” Riley couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. “It’s because I want you to do it again.” 

*****

I want you to do it again. 

She put it all out there, clear as day. And Mac didn’t register it until it was too late. Until she was scrambling away from him as fast as she could. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Every time he looked at her, Mac couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted her. Wanted to be with her, in every way possible. Her eyes said she was feeling it too. 

Those fucking eyes. Beautiful, but annihilating. A bridge from his soul to hers. 

I want you to do it again. Words he never thought he’d actually hear come out of her mouth. Voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I want to do it again too.” 

Everything stopped as soon as the words left his mouth. His heart. His lungs. The thoughts ricocheting in his brain. Maybe even time itself. All awaiting Riley’s response. 

It felt like an eternity had passed before she answered. “What?” she said softly, unbelieving. 

“I want to kiss you again. And again. And a thousand times after that.” It took every ounce of his self control not to just grab her and kiss her until she forgot her own damn name, but he needed her to come to him. 

Riley inched forward. “Only a thousand?” Teasing. She was teasing. 

“Millions. Trillions. Or, until either you’re sick of me or I die trying.” 

“I could never be sick of you.” She was close enough now that Mac could feel her breath on his lips. 

“Guess I’ll just have to die trying then.” He gripped her hands and squeezed before grazing his fingers along her arms. She gasped. Mac flashed back to earlier, at the auction, when he grazed the exposed skin in the middle of her back. So that’s what it took to make her gasp like that again. With painstaking gentleness, he held her face with both hands. 

“Can I kiss you?” Riley nodded. A nod wasn’t confirmation enough. Not right now. He prompted, “I need you to say the word.” 

“Yes.” 

He leaned in slowly, savoring the precious, electrically-charged moment before their lips met. Her perpetually cold hands gripped his bare waist, and for a few seconds Mac forgot how to breathe. He’d loved Riley for years, but in the last few months the switch finally flipped and he was desperately, undeniably in love with her. She was his best friend, his partner in crime (sometimes literally), his confidant, his ally. She was the ground wire to his circuit. She was Hope when his was lost, Courage when he wavered. She was the person who, above all others, he could trust, and together every challenge could be overcome, every problem could be solved. 

Mac traced her lips with his thumb until he couldn’t resist any longer, tilting her chin up for the kiss. He stared at those soft, greedy lips he’d thought about far too often before moving closer and brushing his nose against hers, as if drawn together by some unseen force. He’d felt that gravitational pull toward her for weeks, and now that pull solidified into an invisible string connecting them. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, just enough to meet those entrancing brown eyes of hers, and the instant he did, Mac knew he would follow her to the end of the earth. 

Slowly, he slid one hand into her hair, thick dark curls tangling between his fingers. Riley leaned into his touch, and he held her gaze and smiled, tucking a curl behind her ear. Finally, for real this time, Mac kissed her, soft and uncertain. She smiled against his mouth, and it wrecked him. Utterly, completely wrecked him. Mac’s whole body ignited. He laced his fingers deeper into her hair as she pulled his body against hers. 

Mac memorized everything about this moment: the feeling of her lips on his, the sweet smell of her perfume, the way her nails just barely dug into his back. There was no lust behind it, not like before, just affection, tenderness, and safety. 

Pure, undiluted love. 

Of course, that was the exact moment Bozer chose to check in on Riley over comms. Mac had never wanted to murder his best friend more than he did in that moment. Somehow, Riley managed to unmute her comms and explain that she was okay and just needed a minute. Mac didn’t know how she did it. Words were utterly foreign to him. 

She muted her comms again. “Now, where were we?” Her eyes glittered. 

Riley curved her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, their mouths meeting again in a searing clash of lips and tongue and teeth. It was passionate, hungry, desperate. Their bodies wound together, each with a hand in the other’s hair, deepening the kiss and pulling the other impossibly closer. Fireworks flashed on the backs of Mac’s eyelids, and lightning coursed through his veins, but at the same time, kissing Riley was relaxing and reassuring, like being wrapped up in her was the safest place in the world. 

The kiss lasted forever and ended too soon. 

Riley pulled away first. Mac gripped her waist to stop her and pull her in for another kiss but paused when he beheld the searching look in her eyes. Her eyes flitted about, and her expression was a mix of delight and confusion edged in hunger. 

For a brief second, he entertained the thought of that hungry part of her coming out to play. Dude, slow down, the little part of his brain still capable of logic chastised. He focused, waiting for her to say the words she was trying to form. 

"We should go before Bozer starts asking too many questions," she finally said. Well that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.  

"Bozer needs to stop being such a helicopter parent." 

Riley snorted. "Then he wouldn't be Bozer, would he." Fair enough. She gave him a playful shove. "Put the rest of your clothes on so we can go." 

He wanted to talk about the kiss. He wanted to talk about what the kiss meant, but Mac got the impression that Riley wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. 

Mac retreated into the bathroom to finish getting dressed. He glanced back at Riley, only to find her already staring. Their eyes met, and she looked away. 

Clothes back on, he crossed the suite to where Riley stood gazing out a window, having finally given up shamelessly ogling his body. Reaching for her hand, Mac followed her line of sight to the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean in the distance. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded once and smiled, letting him lead her out of the suite. 

Without letting go of her hand, Mac opened the door for Riley, and found himself face to face with two well-groomed men in nice suits, each pointing a gun at Riley’s chest. 

“Whoa there! I think you guys have the wrong room,” Mac said, squeezing himself beside Riley. One of the guns now pointed at his chest. 

The man on the right sneered at Riley. “Oh, I think we’ve got the right one. Isn’t that right, Danika?” He stepped closer, pressing the gun underneath her chin. “Or should I call you Riley?” 

Beside him, Riley paled. Well, shit. 

*****

Desi was out of the room before Bozer could even blink. He scrambled after her, catching the door before it slammed behind her. 

Bozer stepped into the hallway just in time to watch Desi bash Petrov’s men’s heads together, sending them tumbling onto the floor. They never saw her coming. She stood over their unconscious bodies with a triumphant smile on her face. Death incarnate dressed up like a Barbie doll, Bozer thought.  

Mac and Riley stood frozen for a second, mouths gaping, before Riley’s lips curled into a wicked grin and she snarked, “Damn, I should give you a raise.” 

Wordlessly, Desi strode down the hall and pressed the elevator button. 

“Where are you going?” Bozer asked. 

Desi grabbed the closest man by his ankles and dragged him to the elevator. “Sending the dogs back to their master.” 

The elevator arrived--empty, luckily--and Desi dragged the man inside. Mac and Riley lugged the other one in behind her. Desi pressed the buttons for every floor and stepped back out, waving at the bodies as the doors slid shut. 

“So who’s going to tell Matty?” Riley asked. Unsurprisingly, no one volunteered. 

“Loser makes the call.” Bozer held out a fist. 

The problem with settling matters via “Rock Paper Scissors” was that the game had nearly the same outcome every time. As usual, Mac lost, but only because everyone else cheated. Mac always played “rock” on the first round, so the rest of the team played “paper,” and Mac was declared the supreme loser. It only got messy when someone played “scissors” just to fuck shit up. That someone was usually Desi. 

In their hotel suite, Mac looked like he wanted to die on the spot while Matty chewed him out for using Riley’s real name while they were undercover. He’d confessed that after the meeting with Petrov, he and Riley had a not-quiet argument that Petrov or his men must’ve overheard somehow. 

Mac and Riley didn’t seem to be upset with each other now, so Bozer wondered what they fought about. Riley even gave Mac a quick shoulder squeeze and a grim, knowing look that set off warning bells in Bozer’s brain that something changed between them. 

After further deliberation, Bozer realized that he’d never known his friends to raise their voices at each other and fight. He’d witnessed many full-blown screaming matches between Mac and Desi, but never with Riley. 

Bozer didn’t know what to make of that. 

Desi and Riley changed into pajamas (bless fake-vacation ops) while Mac was on the phone and decided to check the other room for bugs, in case Petrov somehow managed to plant one while he was in there. Now alone with Mac, Bozer decided to do a little investigating of his own. 

He didn’t waste any time beating around the bush. “So, what’s going on with you and Riley?” Bozer knew Riley had feelings, and he was pretty sure Mac did too, although he didn’t have explicit confirmation. 

“What do you mean?” 

Bozer decided to play dumb. “You two have been acting weird ever since we got here, and now you got into a fight that led to your covers being blown? Something’s up.” 

Mac shot him an exasperated look. “Dude, I know you know more than you’re letting on. Out with it.” 

“My information is not mine to tell.” He paused. “What happened in the other room, Mac?” 

“I kissed her,” Mac confessed with a sigh. 

“And?” 

“And she kissed me back.” 

Bozer was excited for them--he really was--but he was also worried. Mac still hadn’t fully dealt with everything that transpired in the last year, and Bozer worried he’d keep using a relationship to hide from it. And if he did that, then Mac may very well do to Riley what he did to Desi. 

And if Mac and Riley ever ended things badly...Bozer would have a front row seat watching two high-speed trains derailing, and there would be little he could do about the near catastrophic destruction. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Bozer asked gently. 

Mac looked taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s everything I want.” 

“Mac, I just think you should take a little more time for yourself before diving into another relationship.” 

Frowning, he argued, “Why? If you think part of me is still hung-up on Desi, you are clearly mistaken.” Well, fuck. This was going to suck. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Mac narrowed his eyes, waiting. “Can you honestly tell me that you’ve fully dealt with everything that happened with Codex and your dad?” 

Mac opened his mouth to defend himself, but nothing came out. 

“What I’m saying is that I think you need to take more time to get your shit together before going all in with Riley. Otherwise, you’re risking letting that kind of stuff get in between you.” And drive you apart, like it did with you and Desi, Bozer refrained from adding. “You need to deal with it, but you don’t have to do it alone. You have me, and you have Riley. And I know there are some things that I will never understand, like stuff with your dad, but she does.” He took a deep breath. “Let someone in, Mac. Let her in. The allure of banging her brains out is strong, I know, but you’ve got to build that solid foundation first.” Bozer grinned. ”And make it out of real, reinforced concrete, not the ruined, crumbly stuff we made as a prank in eighth grade.” 

Mac chuckled. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern, Boze, but I’m fine, really.” Bozer didn’t believe him for a second. “Besides, I can’t do that to Riley. I can’t turn around and rip it away from her like that.” No, that conversation would not be pretty. 

“At the end of the day, it’s your choice. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.” 

Mac pulled him in for a hug. “I know,” he said. Quieter, he added, “Believe me, I know.” 

*****

It was a little after two am, and all Riley wanted to do was sleep. The auction felt so long ago, yet it had only been seven eventful hours ago. 

She let Desi explain that they’d found a bug in the other room, on the underside of the door handle. Petrov must’ve placed it when he let himself out. Riley cursed herself for being too caught up in Mac to consider a small detail like that. 

“Well, we’ll deal with it in the morning,” Mac said, looking just as guilty as she felt. “We all need sleep.” Riley nodded in agreement. She glanced at Mac, then Bozer, then Desi, then back to Mac again, knowing the others were doing the same. It was the first step in their “who’s sleeping where” routine. 

Riley didn’t have enough energy to battle for a good spot to sleep, so she pulled rank instead. “My op, my bed,” she announced. Without waiting for a response, she unceremoniously plopped on top of the fluffy duvet and closed her eyes. 

After a few minutes of squabbling that Riley didn’t bother paying attention to, someone slid into bed beside her. She cracked her eyes open just enough to see Desi rearranging the pillows. 

One of the boys turned the lights off, forcing Riley to finally crawl under the covers. She curled up on her side with her back to Desi. 

Sleep beckoned, but her brain was still buzzing too loudly to slip into blissful unconsciousness. Riley tried to turn it off, focusing on her breathing instead. With each exhale, she felt herself sink into the mattress, one body part at a time--first her feet, then calves, thighs, hips, torso, arms, shoulders, neck, head. She took one last deep breath and felt her whole body relax, becoming one with the bed. Her brain quieted at last. 

Across the bed, Desi whispered, “Are you okay?” 

Truthfully, Riley had no idea. She’d had such a rollercoaster of a night that she barely knew which way was up anymore. On the bright side, things seemed to be working out with Mac. But, at the same time, the consequences of being with Mac--Desi getting kidnapped, Mac accidentally blowing her cover--nagged at her. 

“I will be.” A true but vague answer. 

“For what it’s worth,” Desi said, “I saw you under the mask. Kind, brave, wickedly smart you. I know you scared the shit out of yourself, just as much as you scared Petrov, but you didn’t scare me. You were more in control than you think. And besides, I wouldn’t have let you cross a line you couldn’t uncross.” 

Riley didn’t have words to respond, so she just reached across the mattress and found Desi’s outstretched hand. The woman slept like a starfish, taking up way more than her half of the bed. Riley squeezed her hand, and after a second, Desi squeezed back. 

Her last thought before drifting off was that maybe she and Desi could be friends after all.

#beth writes #riley+sunglasses+undercover #MacGyver #macriley #Angus MacGyver #riley davis #mac x riley #macgyver fanfiction

[ask-anti-cosmo]

Anti-Cosmo X reader: why can't I have you?

I walked down the street, not being seen at all by my anti-magic. I didn’t mind, as I dodged people with ease, using my wings to flout around quickly. I came across a stripper bar and looked at it curiously.

“Hmm, Never actually been in one of these before…can’t be too many truly fortunate souls in here…especially among the employees…” I said thoughtfully before smirking.

I slipped through the door and rushed pasted the bouncer to the bathroom for a bit of privacy. I changed into a human form, but kept my clothing, hair and eye color the same. I made my monocle into glasses as well before walking out.

My newly tanned skin flashed from the lights that emitted around the large room. The booming music wasn’t as loud to my human ears so I was grateful of that. The room reeked of a mixture of Perfume and cologne (among other things), but with my nose, I am able to pushed all of it and began to sniff out the most misfortunate soul in this dumpster fire.

I walked around, glancing at the dancing bodies with a neutral expression. There were many delicious smells. Lonely divorcee’s, trying to forget. Men who just wanted to feel loved but don’t know how. Then there’s the strippers. Most just have the job to get by, and many have creepy men try to touch them or do other inappropriate things to them.”

I smirked, eyeing the best candidates, when suddenly, a strong whiff of something incredibly delicious hit my nose, making my mouth water almost immediately start to water. “Who is that…?” I said quietly, looking around.

“Her name is ______.” The man next to me said, making me look to where he was looking. That’s when I saw a girl strut out on stage, provocative music starting to play as she danced. It was definitely her. And she smelled so delicious.

While all attention was on her, I stepped back and shed my human appearance and became invisible to the world once again. I came up on stage and observed the woman called _______. I assume it to be a striper name considering the amount of attention she was getting. No doubt she wouldn’t want to take that home.

I continued to smell her misfortune, recognizing each scent. “Stalkers…terrible boss…barely making ends meet…” I whispered. “This woman…has had a terrible life!” I grinned wickedly. I thought I smelled something a little off about her, but I ignored it, her scent was too delicious to concern myself with little oddities.

I walked by the door of the dressing room, ignoring everyone who passed me. _______ came in once her shift was done, and after she got her clothes on quickly, she started walking out to a junky looking car. I laughed the myself and continued to follow her to the apartment she called home. After seeing her stand in front of what I assumed was her door to unlock it, I rushed to her neighbor’s house and froze all of the inhabitants, which just seemed to be a poor college student. Either way, I regained my human form and walked out.

“Oh, hello! I’m your neighbor’s new flatmate!” I grinned at her, making her flinch.

“Oh…hello, nice to meet you.” She smiled with a nod.

“What’s your name?” I asked friendly.

“Uh…_______.” she said, giving a different name than what I heard at the club.

“I see, Well I’m Cosmo! It’s nice to meet you!” I grinned with a wave.

“Yeah…you too…” she nodded and rushed into her home.

I slipped back into the apartment I froze and bopped the college boy’s head. “I am your new flatmate. My name is Cosmo Cosma, and you’ve known me for years. I work in retail, and am a law major, which is why I’m gone so often. I come from a rich family that makes me work hard.” I told him, making up a back story just in case ________ asks about me to him when I’m not a around. I threw a couple other suggested thoughts in his head about me for good measure before unfreezing him.

“So, we’re roomies now huh? Let’s try not to annoy each other, right?” I smiled friendly.

He blinked at me and looks around at the room I made appear. “Oh…right yeah.” He laughed. “So uh, want to swim Netflix?”

“Sorry old chap, I’ve got homework, maybe next time.” I smiled and waved.

“Come on man, you just moved in, we need a little house warming party!” he grinned, sitting up. Obviously he was coming out of the frozen haze and acting more like his old self.

“I have a test this week and cannot fail.” I lied with a huff. I quickly slipped into the bedroom I made for myself. “maybe tomorrow!”

I listened to the door a minute before being sure he had let it go. I sighed in irritation before becoming an anti-fairy again and slipping through the vent in a tiny form, going straight to ________’s.

I came into her house to see her eating Ramen while reading a textbook. So she’s going to school too then eh? There’s a misfortune I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I started to wonder if I should just observe her for a bit before showing myself, but the smell of her bad luck was starting to drive me crazy. I stayed in my small form and got inside a magic 8 ball that was just out of her focused sight. Cliché perhaps, but has a good dramatic flair. As well as it let’s me diagnose the extent of her feelings of her misfortune.

I rocked the ball slightly to get her attention. She stared at the ball a minute before reaching for it curiously. “Where did this come from…?” she frowned and looked at it.

“Go on, ask it something~” I grinned to myself in anticipation.

“Reina must have left it here or something.” She sighed and set it down, making me pout.

I rocked the ball slightly some more, making her look at it again. “…if Reina brought in another cursed item…” she glared before reaching for the ball.

I rolled it out of her reach, making it fall on the floor and crack open, releasing me in a puff of smoke.

_______ jumped back from surprise as I gained a larger form. I grinned my fangs at her charmingly, waving my wand about. “Double double toil and trouble, something burdened this way come~”

“What the…oh no a genie?? Get back in there, I want nothing to do with you!” she huffed.

“Oh no no my darling, I’m an anti-fairy!” I told her sweetly. “I’m here to help you! I have no wish limit, and my only wish is to make your life better!” I told her.

“Better…?” she frowned.

“Yes! I’ve looked into your life and seems what a miserable one it is, and I’m here to help!” I grinned.

“…Actually, I’m good.”

I froze in shock. “you…what??” I asked in confusion.

“I said I’m good. No help needed.” She shrugged.

“But…love you’re eating ramen!”

“I like ramen.” She shrugged.

“You work at a strip club!”

“I have a job. Better than my leech neighbor. I’m independent. I betcha his new roommate is rich or something.”

“But what about your deadbeat boss??”

“You said it, but so long as he pays me there’s no problems.”

“but you could have a better job, with better pay and a better boss!”

“I know, I’m working on it.” She pointed at her textbook.

“Oh come now love, surely there’s something you need! You’ve had a lot of misfortune's in your life!”

“Yeah, I have, but I’m over them thank you.” She huffed. “I’m grateful I can go to school, have a job, and my own place. No regrets here.”

I couldn’t believe it, anyone who I’ve made that offer to would have jumped on that chance so hard, yet this woman, who had so little, who’s life no one would want, just told me no.

“I…I see…” I nodded. “Well then…if you ever do need anything, you just shake my magic eight ball, okay? I’ll come super fast and fix everything for you, alright?”

“I don’t need it, but okay.” She shrugged, making me feel upset that I couldn’t have her right away, but I went back into the ball, hoping she’d at least entertain the idea. I watched her study for hours before going to bed, making the world so quiet and alone for me.

She left for school the next morning, barely giving my ball a glance. While she was gone, I slipped back to my flat mates again. He wasn’t home, but that didn’t last long. I sat on the couch, feeling very confused.

“Heeeeey! Cosmo my man!” he grinned. “whats up, you study so hard your brain stopped working again?”

“Uh…well …” I was so confused I could barely speak or think. “I…had a fight with my girlfriend is all…”

“You okay?” He frowned. “You need a drink…?”

I have never had human alcohol, never been interested in it. It’s a depressant, so it’s usually a problem of victims of mine, but never had it before. In my shock and confusion, I looked up at the man I had decided to live with and said. “Alright…I need something strong.” I nodded and stood up.

“Awesome! I know just the place for a heavyweight like you!” He grinned and slapped my back.

“Wait…isn’t drinking a nightly game or something?” I asked curiously.

“Nah man! Noon is close enough am I right?” He grinned.

“Uh…I suppose…” I shrugged and followed him. That’s when I realized I didn’t know his name. Maybe people will know him at this pub and I can just pick it up from them.

He took me to a pub where we sat down at the bar. “Hey Henry! Got a heavyweight here!” He grinned. “Got that stuff?”

“So long as he’s willing to sign a waiver.” The bar keeper came up.

“Give it.” I told him. “I’ve been rejected in a way that is so foreign to me I can barely think straight.”

“Okay shakespear.” The Bar keep handed me a paper to sign, just saying I know this is strong enough to possibly kill a horse, but me being immortal, I couldn’t care less.

I was given a small glass of neon green liquid.

“Take it slow, you really can’t chug it all at once, got it?” The bar keep told me. I almost chugged it anyways, but decided to take his advice, just so no one would suspect.

I sipped some and swallowed hard. It was definitely powerful, almost painful. “Wow…” I inhaled.

“Feel like falling on your butt?” My flatmate asked with a grin.

“Just about…” I chuckled, showing my fangs.

“Man, your teeth will never not freak me out I think.” He laughed, making me feel a little self-conscious about them, an unfamiliar feeling.

“Can’t help what I was born with.” I decided to say. “Mum wanted to file them down, but I am quite proud of them.”

“Yeah…well, helps with the vampire obsessed ladies am I right?” He chuckled.

“Those are the nuts though aren’t they?” I smirked, taking another sip.

“Crazy ones are the hot ones.” He nodded, grabbing a beer.

“Fair that is, man.” I nodded and held my glass to his bottle and he clicked the glass in agreement. “This stuff is nice, why have I never tried this before…?” He asked, looking at the strong alcohol.

“Have I never taken you here before?” He asked.

“Mmm…no…say what’s your name?” I asked him, already feeling slightly loopy.

“Huh? Dude did you forget my name already?” He laughed. “That stuff must be strong! I’m your bro, Ricky!”

“Right right, Micky…” I nodded and took another sip. “Oooooh this stuff is amazing…”

“You’re going to have one heck of a hanghover!” Ricky laughed at me.

“Oh no I won’t, I’m not a mortal like you.” I smirked at him.

“Oh yeah, are you a real vampire, been lying to me?” He grinned.

“No you idiot, I’m an anti-Fairy! I’ve got magic and everything!” I told him and tried to find my wand but gave up since I couldn’t even find my pockets. “Oh goodness my fingers feel numb…”

“You’re so drunk, that’s hilarious!” Ricky grinned. “Maybe we should cut you off now.”

“You take this drink from me and I will suck your blood.” I threatened. “Let me finish it first.”

“…Alright then, no need to threaten. Of all the things to declare I’m surprised Fairy is one of them…”

“Oh no, don’t you compare me to them! I am an ANTI-Fairy, not fairy.” I told him sternly.

“Uh…okay man, what’s the difference…” Ricky asked looking somewhat nervously.

I leaned close to his face. “EVERYTHING.”

He stayed quiet until I was done with my drink, then he helped me home.

“I guess I’ll just take you to your room then, huh?” He asked.

I just followed him along, not saying anything until we passed by _______’s apartment. “…Why can’t I have her…?” I asked sadly.

“Who? Your girlfriend?” Ricky asked, bringing me into our apartment.

“Not my girlfriend…I asked and she said no…no ones ever told me no…I have so much to offer, why can’t she see that…?” I continued.

“She will man, you’re worthwhile!” Ricky assured. “You’re handsome, rich, hard worker. Anyone would want you! Heck, if you were a girl I’d want you!” He chuckled.

I grabbed his shoulder harshly and looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to be female…” I said, eyeing him hungrily.

“W…w-wait what? Ow!” He recoiled from my grip on his shoulder. “L-look man, if you swing both ways that’s fine by me, but I’m not-”

“Don’t you make fun of me because I am in no mood to be denied again!” I glared and took out my magic wand, pointing it right at his face. “Especially when you haven’t heard the whole deal.”

“D-deal…?” Ricky squeaked, putting his hands up defensively.

“I crave misfortune. And even though I have a different target, she’s proving to be more difficult than expected. Your misfortune is brought on by your own laziness but that certainly won’t stop me from making a deal. I can grant you anything you wish for your blood.”

“B…blood? So it’s blood you want?” He asked, looking slightly relieved.

“Of course I want blood, do you think these fangs are for decoration?!” I hissed.

“N-no you just…uh…the conversation just kind of…went in a weird direction is all…” He laughed awkwardly. “Um…what do you mean grant me any wish…?”

“Fairies may have rules, but Anti-Fairies do not. I can grant you anything you’d like, in exchange for your blood.” I told him.

“You can make me rich?” He asked hopefully.

“Bigger the wish, the more blood I need.” I told him. “And I’ve used a lot of magic lately, I need blood soon.”

“…How about an easy job with little hours that pays a lot?” He asked.

“Is that what you wish?” I rose an eyebrow at him.

“…Do I have to say I wish or something?”

“I’m not so picky! Just say its what you want!” I growled, feeling impatient and drunk.

“I-I wish I had an easy, short hours, but high paying job!” He said quickly.

I Lunged into his shoulder, swallowing as much blood as I could in a few gulps before backing away and finally having the energy to wave my wand. Equipment filled the apartment, making him look around confusedly, but holding his shoulder in pain.

“W…what’s all this…?” He looked around.

“Your career. Congratulations, you’re a DJ.” I told him, breathing hard and wiping my mouth.

“A DJ?? They make good money?”

“Can make 500$ In a single night.” I shrugged.

“Whoa, seriously??”

“You bet. And a gig could only be a couple hours long. Not to mention the chance to party..”

“Dude that’s awesome! Thanks Cosmo!”

“ANTI-Cosmo.” I huffed. “I’m sick of not being called by my full name.”

“Oh…okay then AC.”

I took a deep breath. “That’s fine…You’d better look into your new profession, I’m off to bed.”

Ricky got up and started getting familiar with his new equipment while I walked into my bedroom. His blood gave me energy, but it was more than less than satisfying. I tried to let the idea of Ricky having a terrible time getting a gig with his new job, or just fail by not doing the job well. It didn’t really help my mood, and to make it worst, the vent came on, bringing _______’s scent with the cool air.

I slumped against the door, breathing in her scent longingly. That’s when I caught the whiff of something strange, the same scent that She had before but I ignored. It was something That I usually run from the minute I smell it on someone. I really should have known after talking to her, hearing what she had to say. I finally identified the smell through the thick fog of misfortune.

Gratitude.

She has a miserable life, but because of her being grateful for what little she does have, there’s no way I could touch her, not without risking debt to her that she’d hang over my head. I’ve made that mistake once before, taking blood then expecting wishes that almost didn’t come. Creates an Anti-magic build up, which is so very not good for one such as me.

I considered attempting to try to make her life worst. Fail her in classes, make her lose her job, anything she was happy about. I know that people like that are hard to crack though, it wouldn’t be worth the effort I think. I suppose I’m stuck with what’s-his-name in there for now. I’ll keep an eye on _______ in the meantime, but I need to focus on my need for misfortune in order to not grow too weak. It’s been slim lately, and I have to do something for my food. As undesirable as it is.

#tumblr cut the story #will be a part two despite this originally being just a long one #next part starts at a time skip #i liked the idea of him being knocked down a peg #even though i love his all powerful trickster vibe #Anti-Cosmo #anti fairies #misfortune #fairly odd parents

[keanureevesisbae]

“Never out of practice” - Chapter 5

Summary: When Darcie’s father loses an important case, a killer seeks revenge, by kidnapping the entire Angel family. Though John thought that he was officially retired, he has to save his Darcie and her family, because he can’t lose her.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: violence

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next chapter 

Why is my back hurting like hell? I’m flat on my stomach, but manage to push myself up. When I open my eyes, I don’t recognize my surroundings.

Where am I anyways? What happened? But I don’t have to think about for a long time, before I remember exactly what happened.

Pete Stanford took me. When I look around me, I don’t see anyone else. My hands are tied together with zip ties and they cut in my skin. I stand up, but since my legs are wobbly, I slam against the concrete wall with my shoulder as I lose my balance.

John must be so worried, I think to myself. I can’t imagine what the cafe looked like when he finally arrived. He was too late. Or I didn’t stall long enough.

Oh my God, if John doesn’t find me, I know my parents and I are going to die today. We all know that Pete Stanford murdered Whitney Bell. We all know that he mutilated her body, dumping her out in the open. Everyone who kept track of this case knows that.

And now my parents and I are probably next.

If he didn’t kill my parents already.

There is no way I can escape, I realize, looking around me. There are no windows in the tiny room where I woke up. Only a door, that I can’t look from the inside. The small light bulb on the ceiling that make it a little bit more clear that I really can’t escape.

I try to wiggle my wrists out of the zip ties, but obviously the battle me vs zip ties is a battle that I’m destined to lose. I wish John was here to help me. I just wish that John was here, so he could wrap his arms around me and tell me that I’m okay. I just wish that I could give Tiki and Oreo one last kiss. I so desperately want Raye to make fun of me and Jennie to hug me.

I hear a scream and I think that it’s my mom. Oh my God, my parents. What are they doing to her?

A door opens and I look into the eyes of the man who threw me against the wall. He walks up to me and grabs me by my hair. I wince when he harshly tugs the strands. He takes larger steps than me, so I practically have to run to keep up with him. The man throws me on the floor and I manage to break my fall on the hard floor.

I see my mom, her hands tied in front of her and her face blotched with red spots and my father with a piece of ducttape over his mouth, his arms tied against a pipe above his head. ‘Mom? Dad?’ I manage to choke out. I want to push myself up, but I feel a foot on my back, preventing me from breathing practically.

‘Princess,’ Pete Stanford says, ‘did you know that your dad ruined my life?’

‘No,’ I say, thinking that he wants me to talk to me. It somehow helped a bit in the cafe, so I figure it will help now. And maybe I can stall the moment of my murder and hopefully give John a little bit more time to find me.

If he manages to find me of course.

‘Well,’ he says, releasing his foot off my back and he gently pulls me up my shoulder. He almost seems like he cares, but when he shows me the knife, slowly grazing my jaw, I remember all too well what kind of man he is. ‘Did you see that interview today?’

I shake my head. ‘I was working all day.’

Pete brings his face way too close to mine. I can smell the liquor he has had, but I don’t turn my face away. I don’t want to upset him even more.

‘What was it about?’ I ask. ‘What did he say?’

‘About how I should be put away for life and he’ll make sure I’ll be behind bars forever.’

I have watched enough Investigation ID during my true crime fascination in college, to know that the last thing I need to do right now is to make him even angrier. He already hates my dad’s guts, I don’t think he is such a great fan of my mom, since she’s a lawyer too, but I’m not part of that world. I simply own a cafe.

I’m just a girl whose boyfriend was a former assassin and is currently praying that he will find her.

‘But,’ I say, swallowing hard, hoping he can’t see through my nerves, ‘you’re a free man. You were innocent according to the jury.’

Pete chuckles. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘You’re the only one who understands. Maybe you should’ve gone to law school.’

The knife is still dangerously close near my throat. ‘Wasn’t smart enough for that,’ I quietly say, trying so hard not to make eye contact with my parents, because I know once I’ll see them, I’ll do something stupid.

‘But I listened well to what you said. You said that I was innocent according to the jury. Do you want to know how I murdered her?’

Oh dear Lord, please no! ‘Who?’

‘Whitney.’ He lifts his shoulders in disbelieve, like he can’t believe I asked that question. ‘Because I did it.’

‘Oh.’

‘And I really want to tell you and you know why?’

I shake my head.

‘Because for one, you’re the only one of this family that I somehow can’t despise.’ I think that is a good thing? ‘And I’m going to do the exact same things to you, while your parents watch,’—he wraps his hand around my throat, slightly squeezing, blocking the blood flow to my brain a little—‘how I kill their daughter.’

I’ve been acting “strong” for too long, because I start to cry. ‘No, please, I don’t want to die. I just want to go home.’

Pete opens his mouth to tell me something, but I hear deafening gunshots that echo in the empty space. I duck down, trying to cover my head with my arms, while I let out a scream. I look through my arms, to see my parents, my mom seeking cover and my dad closing his eyes. The men that took me from the cafe pull their gun, but before they can fire, they drop to the floor.

Pete pulls me up and wraps his arm around my neck, holding me up as a shield. I stand on my toes, while I hold his forearm with my hands. Tears are streaming down my eyes, but between the tears, I see a blurry image of my boyfriend.

John found me. He points his gun to us. ‘Let her go,’ John says in a low and dangerous voice.

Pete pulls out his knife and holds it near my face.

A cry leaves my lips, as I start to feel lightheaded. To make things even worse, he puts more pressure on my throat. My legs grow tired of standing on my toes, trying to keep my balance.

‘Let her go,’ John says again.

Pete hides himself behind me. I believed John when he said that he was quite legendary back in the day, but I know that even the best assassin can’t make that shot. ‘And why on earth would I do that?’

Seconds pass where John doesn’t say anything. His eyes are focussed on me. Everything that we’ve been through, I see it all passing by. His shy chuckle, where he would bring his hand to his mouth to cover it up. His warm embraces, when I need them when I’m sad, extra happy to see him or just really stressing out over work and all the paperwork. His smile when he catches my eye when I’m working.

The conversations he has with the high school kids, inviting them over to sit at his table. His love for Tiki and Oreo, how he tucks them underneath a blanket when they are sleeping. How he holds stuff above his head, so I can’t reach them when I really need it. How he always opens the door for me, no matter which one. He still takes off his jacket when I need to get out of the car and wear a short skirt or dress.

God, all the things he did for me… He did find me, but what if he can’t save me? Well, at least he can save my parents.

John points his gun to a point above us. When he shoots, I yelp of the loud sound. Pete starts to laugh. ‘I’m impressed,’ he tells him in a sarcastic tone.

I hear something, but I can’t really place it. But before I know it, I’m being pushed forward with such a force. Pete releases his grip on me and I topple over the floor. I open my eyes, to see Pete laying on the floor, but I see a flash in front of my eyes and hear a loud gunshot. I let out a scream when I see that Pete is bleeding from his forehead, but I feel two strong and familiar hands on my arms.

‘Darcie,’ John says in such a soft voice, that it’s hard to believe that he just killed a couple of guys, ‘I’m here. Don’t look at that.’ He pulls me up and engulfs me in his arms. His fingers go through my hair and then I let it all out. ‘I’ve got you, sweetheart,’ he whispers in my ear.

‘I thought I was gonna die,’ I mumble against his neck, his hard bullet proof vest not giving me access to his soft shirt.

‘Not on my watch,’ he says, kissing my wet cheek. He holds onto my face and gives me a long kiss on my lips. ‘God, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you, baby.’

John lets go of me and pulls out a knife. He frees my wrists from the restraints and kisses them tenderly. He stands up to help my parents, but he holds out his hand for me to take. Since I don’t want to leave his side anymore, knowing that I’m the safest when I’m with him, I eagerly hold onto his hand and walk behind him. I stare at a long wooden beam that is still attached to the ceiling, but cracks every time it swings a bit. That must’ve been what John shot at, that must’ve been what launched both me and Pete to the front.

John cuts through the zip ties and when he checks out my moms wrist, he says: ‘We should get that checked.’

He stands up and pulls out a card. He brings his phone to his ear, but then he wraps an arm around my frame. I close my eyes, while I hear him say: ‘This is Wick. I’d like to make a dinner reservation for six on behave of the Continental.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @flhorah​ @allie1804-fan @cynic-spirit​ @raven-black102

#keanu reeves x oc #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x original character #keanu reeves x ofc #john wick x oc #john wick fanfic #john wick #john wick x original character #john wick x ofc #never out of practice

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Afternoon Tea Pt 1

Ru’Yi was not dressed in her uniform but a fine cotton lace yellow gown and ballet flats.

She’d done her hair in braids and pinned it up in a bun and donned blue crystal earrings.

It was a special occasion to have tea with the Vice Chancellor, Mr. Baldwin told her. Few students were invited into that library so she should look nice.

It wasn’t the large library, but a room in the Vice Chancellor’s personal office. A floor to ceiling window let in ample light that shined on several old fashioned globes and towering bookcases, the tops of which were reachable only by ladder. She craned her head up, walking through the door as Finger Von Frings held it open for her.

“The Principal’s office is built on top of the original Cassell Manor,” He said, closing the door behind her. “Hilbert Ron Anjou tried to recreate this particular space from memory. He liked to come here and think about the past.”

She looked up in wonder at the tall man, walking next to him to the table. 

“How’s your friend?” He asked as he removed his cowboy hat and settled it on the globe.

“Tom’s...” She paused, considering how to politely put his precarious situation. “...doing better. He says that he’s going to stay on medication for the rest of his life though. They can barely keep him below 50%...” She said sadly. “I’m just...” She sighed. “...glad they can.”

“I’m glad to hear that too.”  He lifted the antique porcelain teapot and poured the hot water into her cup. He then sat down and she followed. “ I’m not much for tea. I’m more of a beer guy myself but...” He shrugged. “...hey tradition’s tradition.” 

He picked up a manila envelope from the table and opened it. “I wanted to tell you a little bit about the past and... show you this.”

He slid a photograph from the folder and held out it to her.

It was a picture of a group of people, standing together. They were all dressed formally, some ceremonially. One a man with pale hair stood in a beautiful ornate kimono. Another with a kimono but not as ornate. The rest of the men were in dark tuxedos. “Hey! That’s Mom and Dad! And... Is that me?!”

“You were very little back then. Yeah. Barely a year old.” He settled back leisurely in the chair, letting his legs stretch out. “Recognize anyone else?”

“There’s you. And Auntie Nono and Uncle Caesar. That’s all.” 

“That was the first congregation of the Cassell House of Reagents. Shortly after Anjou’s death, we had to figure out a way forward for the College.” He stirred his tea with a small spoon. “Cassell College has been through plenty of dark times. But many would say that what happened before Anjou died was the darkest time in our history. Ever since, we’ve just been trying to recover and praying that a dragon wouldn’t wake up in the meantime.”

“This is the stuff, Dad doesn’t want to talk about.” She said frowning.

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s that he can’t. The details of that time are sealed. Confidential. Need to know only.”

She looked at the photo again. “A lot of people seem pretty sad.”

“There are those in that photo who’ve since passed on. Schneider, Manstein... Guderian...” Finger lifted his eyes to the hat on the globe, sadness coming over his face. “...Flamel.”

The names were unfamiliar to her other than Anjou. She kept her silence.

“You’ll learn more about this people later on. Heh.” He smiled a little. “But even before that, we lost a lot of people.” He shook his head. “Friends... long time friends. Some people lost family. A lot of people died. Your parents especially suffered a lot. That makes it even harder to talk about.”

“At that meeting, there was an issue of unstable hybrids that your mother was especially passionate about. They could be born naturally. But a lot of them were actually created by a very evil group of people. They were victims of that time but... the Cassell College still treated the same way they’d treated these hybrids for centuries.”

He shifted in his chair. “You see, back before we had things like Genetic testing, when Hybrids were newly created, they used an alchemical process to forcibly create hybrids. The embryos grew in the natural way, in the womb of a mother. Many of those women died. And even if they lived, there was a chance for those hybrids to be unstable. Those unstable hybrids would grow into monsters. So... as soon as a child was seen to be unstable... it was violently killed. It didn’t matter how young it was.” He said with a slow sad shake of his head.

Ru’Yi swallowed her tea. Trying to imagine a child being put to death.

“Meixiu stood up because she had been unstable but received treatment from an unknown source. She was cured. She said that she spoke for all the mothers who had to watch their children die.”

“She said that going forward, it can no longer be the policy of the Secret Society to destroy unstable hybrids without seeking a cure for them. Technology had advanced. There was no longer any excuse. She demanded that we put forth significant efforts to cure instability.”

He sighed through his nose. “Even now, I get choked up because I know how hard it must have been to stand up and say that. But even then, the old guard refused. The old guys said it was too dangerous. That people would die. That a cure would never be found.”

He pointed to the two Japanese men in the photo. “This here... is Chisei and Chime Gen. She has a special friendship with these two. Chisei used to be High Patriarch of a group formally known as Hydra but is now just the Japan Division. Even though he wasn’t the leader at the time, he was still highly respected by them. He had been on the front line of destroying the unstable hybrids of Japan. He killed dozens... maybe even hundreds of them.”

“So when he stood up and confessed that he still is haunted by his actions to this day and voted her direction? It was like the entire building moved. You could feel history being made.” 

Finger’s blue eyes twinkled. “All of the Japan delegates voted his way.”

“Caesar is an old politician at heart, but Chisei is his dear friend. He voted his way as well... and where Caesar goes,” He waved his hand, “...most divisions will fall in line.”

“In the end, you saw a split between the old generation and the new. All the old guard voted to keep things the way they were but... none of the new blood agreed. Cassell turned in a new direction... into the future.”

“There are still those who agree with the old guard. But it’s too late now. Especially with a severe case like Tom being successfully treated, we have reason to believe that the new era will last.”

He pulled another photograph out and held it out to her. “Don’t tell your mom I have this.” He grinned proudly.

It was a picture of her mother embracing the Japanese man. She could tell by the way the fabric gathered in their hands that they were clinging to each other tightly. “Is this... Chisei?”

“Mhm. Maybe someday I’ll get to tell you their story. But it would be better if you heard it from them. After all. I was only there for part of it.”

“Are those evil people still around?” Ru’Yi asked.

“Hm?” Finger’s eyes widened slightly.

“You said.. evil people created unstable hybrids.”

Finger’s eyes lowered. “I don’t wanna say too much. But the truth is the knowledge is out there now. And so long as there are dragons and hybrids and people who want power, there’s a chance one or two will pop up.”

“Dad told me not to ask about what happened after I arrived here.” She lifted her eyes to him.

Finger looked at her in silence for a few seconds then he nodded.

“I’m... unstable?” Fear clawed at her heart.

“No.” He smiled. “You’re not.”

She let out a breath in relief.

“I just... wanted to you to know a few thing so you can feel proud of your parents. So you don’t feel like they’re hiding things from you. They’re not.” He shook his head. 

“Thanks, Vice Chancellor...”

“Oh Please... call me Finger! That title is so ... “ He grimaced. “It’s a mouthful.”

“Right.” She laughed.

“So, I’m curious Ru’Yi...” He leaned forward a bit. “Why did you join Cassell College anyway...?”

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Ru'Yi #Chisei Gen #Chime Gen

[daisydaisybilly]

Hard to love - part 2

title- hard to love - 1, 

paring- Sam x reader (female) 

word count- 2.7k

warnings- swearing, mention of death, mention of blood, fluff and longing 

a/n- i have mixed feelings about this part but i like the ending a lot. probably has some mistakes so watch out but anyway please enjoy and tell me what you think.  i change to writing in second person in part 3, and will edit this to that when i’m free

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN | series masterlist

We spent the day in the motel room, I still wore his shirt from the night before, happy he hadn't said anything about it.

Wearing it made me feel safe in it, it hung down to my under tight, it went well with some plain jeans. During the afternoon we both read our books, sharing our thoughts out loud now and then.  

It felt nice after a hunt just to relax and not be on the move right away. It was around 8 when we began to get ready.

"I hope you're ready for girl talk?" I say from the bathroom, I choice to go with a long dress with a deep v neck. You could just about see the anti possession sigil I had belong my breast.

Sam was sat on his waiting for me. He took all for me in with one look, he was dressed in jeans and his usual flannel shirt.

"is it too much?" I say looking down at my dress and then back to Sam who smiled.

He shook his head and walked up to me, "You look great, I'm just worried someone will steal you tonight".

I playfully hit his shoulder and tried to hide the blush that spread across my face. "I'm all yours tonight, I promise".

                                          //////////

 We decide to use my car this time, Sam gave it a look of approval, "nice car" he said, I had always loved this car. It held so many memories.

"Thanks, I got it from my Danny. He loved this car" I patted the car gently and climbed in.

Sam blinked in confused, "Who's Danny?".

"No one you know" I tried to push it off but Sam wouldn't let it go.

"You can tell me, like you said we've all lost people" his voice was sweet. Too sweet.

" You need to share you own demons before I share mine." I pulled out of the motel and went to a different bar from last night.

The car was filled with a thick layer of awkwardness. I knew I was the reason, I wish I hadn't been so hard and shut off with him.

"I'm sorry" I said still watching the road, "I'll talk about almost anything, like anything. But I can't talk about him" my grip on the wheel was tight enough to make my figures numb.

"I'm sorry I pushed you, I just want to know you" he said with too much guilt in his voice.  

"trust me you don’t" I said, seeking a look at him, his head was bent down, his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap. "Sam, this is just me, I act like I don’t care but it's just a wall and I can't let it down" I tried to explain to lessen his guilt along with mine.

We sat in a  uncomfortable silent until we reached the bar. A knot had formed in my throat. "Sam. I don't speak about what I went through because I can't trust myself" he looked at me with his eyes shining. "I ruin things, sometimes I mean to and somethings it just falls apart. "

With one last deep breathe I left the car and let the summer night air hit my skin. "I can do this" I whispered to myself. I just needed to get through tonight and I could go back to being alone, go back to not having to look at him and his eyes, that made me want to tell him everything.

"Did you say something?" Sam was stood next to me now, his hand was on my back.

I looked from his hand to his face, "Just I'm so ready to get drunk" I put on a fake smile and walked ahead. Sighing in relief when he couldn't see my face.

The place was pretty empty for a bar near the town, a few people were dancing together and more few sat at tables and the bar drinking away.

We settled in a booth near the back. I left Sam to get the beers, I could feel eyes on me my hands covered my chest as I walked forwards.   I saw Danny face everywhere, just mentioning him had brought back so much.

The walk back to the table pass without me knowing. "When did I get here?" I asked sitting down. "I was just at the bar" I pointed to the bar.

"how many shots did you take? Maybe you should slow down" Sam laughed sipping on his beer. I tried to laugh along but it out flat. "I was thinking about what you said about our demons"

"Sam"

"let me finish. You don't have to tell me anything but tell me something and I'll tell you something" Sam reached across to touch my hand.

"Sam, I do trust you more than I feel I should but I don't know if I can relive it all" I moved to hand his hand with it being so close. I worried he'd pull away but he held on tighter.

"I would leave you. You can tell me anything and I'll stay right here or if you want me to go then I'll do that too" he moved around he table so we were sat up close.

"I'll just start with the bad stuff, that way I can get it over with." I said with a weak smile.

2006 Flashback I was living in a forgettable town in the Midwest.  Both my parents were long dead, working in a dine along with night classes for a PHD in mythology. And that's when I met Danny, he went to the same high school as me but we didn't really click until we were 22. He would always come into the diner and always get the same thing.

Then one afternoon we were talking about this or that and he suddenly said, "The only reason I come here is to see you smile". I remember blushing like a 5 year old but god did I love the way he made me feel. We move so fast in our relationship, but it felt right. After a year of dating we had moved in together and were already planning a wedding. We lived in this small 5 floor walk up, cost everything we had we didn’t earn much with the diner and the his job at a factory.  

The walls were painted this color that reminded me of   lemonade.  Nothing match because we just used whatever we had and put it all together. All our friends thought we were mad for doing everything so fast but I didn't care, I had him and that was enough.

Studying mythology, I always loved lore and stories. I guess that’s was my down fall. There was this local legend about a women who lived in the woods, in all the stories she said to be beautiful, she used her beauty to lure men and women, sometimes children to their deaths.

 I was planning on writing my final paper about her and how the whole town were still scared for her, even though no one had seen her. I guess I pocked around to much, I always wondered why no one else had.   I was leaving my class early one morning and it was snowing, everything was white and clean. The whole thing seems like a joke now, that night was pure and light until I reached our flat.

The front door was ripped open, stuff throw all over the floor. Blood was covering the walls. All my books hit the floor when I saw him. He was just sat on the sofa with his guts hanging from him, his throat ripped out. As I got close, my lungs closed up. I was so scared to breathe. Then something ran at me, tried to stab me but I fell hitting my head and they hit my tight, I guess. Next think I knew  I woke up the police were there looking down at me. The people living under me, had already called the police because of the noise and then again when they heard me scream.  

Turns out living in a small town with a local monster isn't as unlikely as I thought.  The mayor of the town has always been from the same family, no one fought to be mayor because everything ran fine as it was. Turns out the monster was a witch who kept everyone happy, all the mayor did was pay her in bodies. Whenever someone die, she got the body and did whatever she did.

I was closer to it all than I thought. The police clean everything up pretty fast, told me it was probably a wild animal which I didn't buy for a second. What kind of wild animal would get into a 5 floor walk up without anyone knowing. Something inside told me I had to look more into it, then the FBI came and started asking questions. I told them what I told the police, it wasn't a animal, it was the witch in the woods. It didn't matter how mad I sounded I needed them to believe me.    

I had all the research and stories to back myself up and I thought it was a miracle that they believed me, but turns out they were actually hunters. They found the witch and killed her. Told me everything because it was the kindest thing they could of done. After that I left everything behind and lived on the road.

2014

When I had finished talking Sam looked lost for words. My chest hurt from the effort of holding in my tears. In my dream I still dreamt of those yellow walls and how they suddenly turned red.

"Now you get why I'm such a mess" I say bitty finishing the rest of my drink off.

"I don't think you're a mess" Sam said, relief flooded my scents. "You thought you were safe and then your world ended".

"I think it's your turn to tell me about your demons" I said dirtily, wishing I had another drink.

Over the course of an hour Sam told me his whole life story, from the multiple deaths and all the heartbreak at came with the life. And most recently the fact that he was prosed by an angel, Dean had tricked him into it to save his life.

"So when I met you, you had an angel inside you? So why didn't it stop the witch?" I ask confused.

"It stepped in before when I was in danger but I guess you came before it had too" Sam explained.

"I know you want to stay mad at Dean for what he did but he did it to save you and from what you told me, you have done or would do the same" I rubbed his back as I spoke. "you can  still be mad at him, hell you can hate him but you shouldn't leave him behind. He's family and you don't leave family".

"I was ready to die though. I was ready, I had had enough of everything" Sam sighed lending back on the chair.

I hugged him without thinking, "I know, I know", my head was against his shoulder. His arms were wrapped around my waist. "Why don't we go back to the motel?" my hand lightly ran through his hair as he nodded.

                                              ////

The drive back so quite and still, Sam offered to drive this time. I laid my head against the window, small rain drops were falling down the other side.

It felt both bad and good that I told someone the truth about my past. I had never met anyone who I trusted enough to tell. Sam had broke down the walls I had built so high.

It was that time of night where everything felt unreal. Even the carefree day we spent had worn down on my energy, all I wanted was to sleep.

The motel was almost empty, only a few cars were left.  Neither of said anything as we made our way into the motel room. Lights were off, the only light coming from a street light.

Nothing needed to said, we had bared our souls to each other. While I changed in the bathroom Sam had the room to changes.

Sam POV Hearing Y/N story had opened his eyes to why she acted so strong but still held herself back. The wild girl he had met that first day had melted away but she still held the same fire that was winning his heart.

While Y/N was still in the bathroom, he checked his phone. Just like he thought a few missed calls from Cas and some from Dean. Y/N words replayed in his mind. "He's family and you don't leave family". She was right, he hated to say it but she was.

"Everything okay?" Y/N voice cutting his thought processes short, she stood in the bathroom door way, wearing the shirt he had given her the night before. Noticing him looking, she blushed. "I hope you don’t mind me wearing it again, I just don't have anything this comfortable.    

"No, it's fine" his watched her smile as she walked to her bed. He spotted a long scar at ran a cost her tight, it looked out of place . She barely had any scars, even the one she did have none of the others were as deep. She mentioned  something about be cut but never said it was that bad.

"So what's next for you?" She asked laying on her side. "Gonna call your brother?".

"I don't know if I'm ready to work with him again, it's hard working with my brother sometime, to tell the difference between what's best for everyone and what you do for family"  he explained, laying down too so they were facing.

"Love makes us blind. I know I would pay anything to get my old life back. I liked what I do, don’t get me wrong. I help people so they won't feel the pain I felt but I wish I had happiness in my life. You have your brother, someone who will always look out for you." she said.

"Do you every get lonely?" he asked.

"yes and no. Like I said, I don't trust myself with other people. Im better alone" she rolled over to her back, so he couldn't see her face.

"You could join me and Dean if you wanted?" he said, as he turned the light off. "We could also use the help"

She laugh which he didn’t expect, "Maybe you should fix what's happening between the two of you before you invited me to tag along ".

He laugh too, "I guess you're right but the offer still stands".

"Thank you, goodnight Sam"

"goodnight Y/N"

                                                        ////    

Reader pov

Sam and I facing each other in the parking lot. The past few had threw by. Sam was unlike anyone I had every knew, I had told him thing that I could hardly say out loud.

"So this is goodbye then" I said quietly. I didn't want to say goodbye.

"I guess it is" Sam said in the same tone.

"You have my number, you can call me whenever you need. " I told him trying to make my tone happier but it fell flat.

"same goes for me, but I don't think you'll need my help much" he joked, which made me smile.

I took a step away from him and to my car but before I made it, I turn around to Sam again. He looked confused at first. Before I could stop and think about it, I kissed him.

Our nose brushed as our lips met. He was hesitate to began with which made me pull away, thinking he didn't want this. But he hooked his hands on my waist and pulled me in closer.

I took my chance and ran my fingers through his hair, my chest burnt from not breathing. When we pulled apart, I was the first the open my eyes. Sam still had his closed, his chest was moving in the same way as mine was.

"That was…" Sam breathed

"Yeah, something to remember me by" I smiled and took a step away. "Leave it like this. If you don’t call or if I don't call then this will be our last memory". I held up my hand and opened my door. "Goodbye Sammy Winchester".

I couldn't but smile at the look on Sam's face through my wing mirror

part three 

#supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural #snp fic #snp imagine #snp #reader x sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #reader x sam #sam x reader #sam imagine #sw

[doberbutts]

 Okay so this is going to get long and more than a little bit tmi but it’s a post summing up some strides I’ve made regarding my own transgender journey and I wanted a place to talk about it and maybe help some BabyTrans figure themselves out along the way so I’m putting it under the cut but it’ll go here >:V

Anyway long story short my insurance settlement from my car accident finally figured itself out and I found myself suddenly $30k richer and immediately spent about $10k of that digging myself out of a very deep debt hole I’ve been wallowing in for a while so now I have some actual financial stability plus have some money to throw at some things that would probably make my life a bit better.

And since I have the money to throw at some things, I bought myself a few new binders and also a packer. Binders because my old one was literally disintegrating- part of that is my fault, washing binders in an industrial machine on high heat plus throwing it in the dryer means your binder falls apart faster than it should. Remember I’m from the very end of Ye Olden Days of transmasc products, which means previously most binders lasted a year at most. My binder made it 2.5 years before giving up and becoming a sports bra instead. I’ve learned from my mistakes and treat my binder(s) much more gently now, plus I have more than one so I can rotate them out and not wear the same binder 8-12 hours daily for 2.5 years and kill it doing exactly the same shit.

For reference sake, I’m 5′10′’, 180lbs, 36C bust, and fit a XL from gc2b. Which is who I bought both my previous binder and my current set from. They are low cost, lightweight, well made, and LGBT-owned and operated which makes me super into buying from them instead of some of the other companies offering something similar.

Being that I am biracial and finding something my skintone is always somewhat... interesting... I followed the internet’s suggestion and went with PeeCock for the packer. I’d bought a zip binder from them a few years ago and actually found that to be the most comfortable binder I’ve ever used in the history of ever, but I will say the durability of zip binders is low compared to pull-over binders in my experience, as the zipper exploded one day when I bent down to pick up a small dropped item. I’d had the binder and was rotating its use with my pullover gc2b for about 6 months when this happened, and was in public when I went from flat chested to big uncontained tiddies in the span of seconds. Not great. I’ve been told that probably means it was a little too small for me, but PeeCock is a company based in Singapore, and their sizes like most East Asian clothing do run quite a bit small (I was a XXL in PeeCock sizes when I wore a size L gc2b binder) so there’s not really a lot of wiggle room for me to go up in size. Additionally their sizing taps out at XXXL so anyone who’s bigger than me in the chest/torso is a bit out of luck for their binders. A shame, because that zip binder was so comfortable I fell asleep in it forgetting I even had it on more than once.

Anyway. Since I did like that binder even though we had the wardrobe mishap, and the internet had pretty good reviews on the PeeCock packers because they are multifunctional and actually make correct skin tones for black dudes, I got one. Since money wasn’t an issue I did get the most recent model which was not cheap (~$300) and so far I like it a lot. I got so used to wearing it that when I take it off to clean it, it actually really bothers me. The weight of it is... comforting, in a way.

HOWEVER I did see a bunch of reviews about how I would be super likely to pee on myself the first time using it and then used it and went “wow I don’t have any idea what you guys are talking about this is easy” aaaaand... then peed on myself by accident. Gotta control your stream or things are going to overflow and you’re going to be really sad. And wet. And stinky. Thankfully I had the forethought to practice at home before actually doing this at work/public restrooms but be warned. Being that this is my first one I can’t say if this is common with all packers however I told several of my transmasc friends that do pack and use STP about this experience and they all assured me they did the exact same thing on and off for the first couple weeks and most of them do not have the same brand. We’ve yet to have a repeat at least?

Plus there’s a little attachment rod so I can use it for sexy times with the boyf and also feel what I’m doing to him so there’s that too. 10/10 A+ experience would recommend. The packaging warns you to be careful how you pack because of the way the silicone works, and your partner cannot be on top or ride you, so keep that in mind if you’re considering it. Cleaning is pretty straightforward however and packing feels correct and natural as long as you follow a few rules:

I’ve discovered that whatever size you consider a perfect fit? Unless you like really relaxed fit for your pants, you’ll need to go a size up. I wear tighter clothing and usually skinny jeans at that, and my exact perfect size has been 34/32 for some time now. When packing I need to go up to 36/32 because otherwise wow that crotch is way too tight. I can’t sit down in one of my pairs of jeans and I’m legit sad about it. I also can’t have anything in the pockets of a different pair of jeans or else I have the same tight crotch problem. I went up a size in underwear and that was more comfortable, so I ordered new pants from online and I’ll see if that helps as much as I’m expecting it too.

Speaking of underwear, ymmv, but I genuinely did not expect this. Jockstraps? Super comfy, super durable, and super convenient. Additionally unlike boxers or even briefs, I don’t need a special packing-specific design to be comfortable in one. I never wore one before and honestly this doesn’t even feel like wearing underwear. They’re really just a banana hammock anyway so that’s probably a large part of it, but honestly I would definitely recommend trying them if you haven’t yet. I do have a few pairs of packing briefs and boxers, as well as normal briefs and boxers, and I’ve been alternating between the various types of undies to see which ones I prefer, but I already know my decision so I bought several because I can. One word of advice, though... if your pants ride down understand that your entire butt will be out. I don’t wear low rise pants because they draw too much attention to my waistline and make me super dysphoric, but those that do, watch out.

Jockmail is highly rated and multiple transmasc websites recommend them for packing and I can absolutely see why. Usually the waistband of my underwear irritates my skin and so I was dubious because Jockmail stuff- being that it’s for athletic wear- has a minimum waistband of about 2in... but it’s actually more comfortable and less irritating, rather than the other way around. They also have briefs, boxers (more like short shorts), and boxer briefs, which I also have of the same brand, but... not as comfy. Once again Jockmail is a Hong Kong company so like all East Asian clothes, they run small. I’m a M in most men’s clothing sizes... I am XXL in Jockmail. I also had purchased a brief harness from PeeCock (goes by inches for waist) as well. (Also where I discovered you need to go a size up- I bought a 34in waist brief from PeeCock and it’s a tad tight. I bought a 36in waist brief from Jockmail and it’s perfect. I have been buying 34in waist things for the past few years now- I didn’t suddenly gain 2 inches at the waist, I did suddenly gain a need for a deeper crotch)

If you look down your body from above it will be super obvious that there is a dick there and you will go “oh god I look like I have an erection”. I have been reliably informed that it is actually not true and if you pack correctly a bulge will be there but not so obvious that it looks like you have a raging hardon the whole time. Better to look in the mirror, rather than down your tummy.

(Additionally I voiced my doubts to my boyf who immediately reminded me that most people don’t spend their time staring at someone’s crotch and as long as I wasn’t constantly messing with mine, no one was likely to notice even if I did have an obnoxiously obvious bulge. He then gave me some tips on how to let it hang if I wanted a “natural” look, and when we walked around while I had it on he made sure to check in on my mental health. He’s cute y’all.)

Some (cis) guys will have a specific leg they like to let things hang against. Some switch it up. Some are okay with it hanging straight down provided there’s not a lot of squish happening. Find what feel comfortable and needs the least amount of adjustment for you, and then stick with that. For me, I’ve found straight down or off to the left feels better- a friend of mine prefers off to the right, another straight down only, etc. Also can depend on the size- some (cis) guys I know are a bit smaller down below and are more comfortable with straight down than those with larger weiners.

If you pack you probably need to shave. I was very uncomfortable until I shaved. Now I feel much better packing. So trim that jungle or else you might feel a pinch every few minutes when a hair gets pulled.

And there you have me this morning before I got dressed. As you can see, both fit very nicely. I’m not particularly happy with my stomach or feminine hip set but eh, I cover those with layers and no one bats an eye.

At this point it’s figuring out the whole hormones thing, yelling at my insurance to cover certain surgeries, and... fixing some minor details with my wardrobe... and I’m feeling way more confident than I was a few years ago.

Anyway if anyone has questions feel free to hit me up

#text post #shut up jazi

[soldatbarnes]

Comfortable

Summary: You buy some new lingerie as a surprise for Bucky, but he doesn’t react the way you thought he would. 

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1592

Warnings: alludes to sex. fluff!

A/N: This is far better written than my last fic, if I do say so myself. Which I do. This fic was inspired by Troy Barnes, in an episode of Community. 

It was 3 am, and you were wide awake. The window was open, a cool gentle breeze blowing through, the curtains billowing. The glow of the moon was overshadowed by the street lights below. You couldn’t sleep. The events of last night were settled in the front of your mind and you couldn’t stop going over every single detail of the last couple hours before you’d called it a night. 

Warmth soothed the chill in your bones, as an arm draped over your waist and you were pulled back into a firm chest. You held your breath, hoping that he wasn’t awake, and listened. His breathing was even, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, his heartbeat steady. 

Good. 

Sometimes it seemed he had a sixth sense for when you were upset, or having an episode of some kind. He’d often awoke from a dead sleep, somehow knowing that you were restless and hadn’t even closed your eyes yet. 

Thankfully tonight wasn’t one of those nights. You felt awkward enough as it was, sleeping beside him, you didn’t need any more tension sprinkled on top when he’d inevitably coerce you into confiding in him what was bothering you. 

The truth was he was. He had bothered you, although he technically didn’t do anything wrong. Your ego was just bruised. You couldn’t hold it against him, but part of you wanted to. It all started last week, while he was away on a mission. 

“Hey, what are you looking at?” Wanda’s voice had startled you, as she leaned on the couch behind you. You snapped the laptop shut, and turned to face her, heat in your cheeks. 

“It’s nothing…” you waved her off, hoping the conversation would stop there. It didn’t. 

“Were you looking at lingerie? Something special for when a certain someone returns home?” she’d wiggled her eyebrows at you. You didn’t normally stay at the compound, being a civilian and all, but your pillows had stopped smelling like Bucky, and it was causing you to have insomnia. So you’d headed to sleep in his bed, something he had suggested for when he’d be away for extended periods of time. At first you’d disagreed, but eventually it became like a second home, the Avengers a second family. So you came around. 

“Yeah I mean… I don’t really own anything like this…” you opened the screen. “And Buck’s never given me any indication that I should go out and buy something.” 

“But you miss him, and want to give him a special treat when he gets back?” there was nothing but cheer in her voice, understanding for where you were coming from. 

“Yes! My goodness, I love him so much. I don’t know why I’d never thought to do something like that before..” 

“Because he never pressured you into something he may have felt you didn’t feel right in? Since you don’t own anything like that right now?” 

“He’s such a good man..” you sighed. 

And here you were. Already regretting your decision to try something new. Every time you thought about his return last night, you wanted to shrink further into yourself. You were mortified. 

Bucky was due home any minute. You’d opted to stay at your apartment tonight, instead of the compound for what you had in mind. You’d texted him earlier, and he promised to be home by Seven. You couldn’t wait. You missed him so much. The mission he was on was longer than the usual ones. 

You missed how he made you laugh, how he made you feel, how attentive he was. You’d always been so independent, and letting somebody else in your life always seemed so difficult, until you’d met him. And you’d never do this for anybody else. 

You were laying on your bed, dressed up the sexy lingerie piece that Wanda had helped you pick out, and had assured you that you looked amazing in. Your hair was done, your makeup was perfect. You were ready to blow him away. 

“Baby, I’m home!” he called out, as you head the front door unlock. 

“I’m back here!” you shouted back, nerves making your voice shake. You heard the sound of his boots and his bags hitting the floor. He always dealt with them the next day. 

“He-“ His voice stopped dead as he stepped into the doorway and saw you. His eyebrows raised, his jaw dropped open, and he looked completely stunned.

“Hi Darlin’” you cooed, crooking a finger to beckon him to you. 

“What’s all this?” he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Wanted to do something special for you Buck.” you got up on your knees beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing kisses on his neck. 

“You look really beautiful, Sweetheart, but you didn’t need to do all this.” He turned his head, looking into your eyes. You shifted uncomfortably when you didn’t see lust reflected at you. In fact his eyebrows were furrowed, looking a little concerned. 

“I know Baby, but I wanted to, for you.” you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. You intended the kiss to be fierce and fiery, but he turned it soft and sweet. “What’s wrong Bucky?” you asked, sitting back. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I really appreciate all this,” he gestured up and down your body, “But.. I umm… I’m just tired I think. The mission was super gruelling. I know, I KNOW, you put in a lot of work but it would make me so happy if we could just hang out y’know?” he kept his voice soft, trying not to upset you. It didn’t work. 

“What do you mean ‘hang out’?” you asked, a little more harsh than you meant to. He flinched slightly before explaining. 

“I mean, I would love it if we could just snuggle in bed, watch a movie?” 

“Uhh, sure. I’ll go, change and stuff.” you huffed, getting up off the bed. You heard him groan a little and flop back as you headed to take your makeup off. 

So here you were, at 3 am, trying your best to figure what went wrong, and why he wasn’t into you anymore. Shifting in bed, trying to get comfortable, you moved your head back too much and smashed it into the man sleeping next to you. 

“What’s wrong, what happened?” his sleep filled voice croaked out as he attempted to get up. 

“Nothing’s wrong Bucky, go back to sleep.” you snapped, not glancing at him. Fingers danced along your cheek, until your jaw was gently turned. His eyes still managed to be bright and beautiful, even in the dark, and the concern in his features made you weak. 

“With that tone, something’s definitely not okay. You gonna tell me about it?” he asked, tucking hair behind your ear. 

“No..” you shook your head as much as you could in the position that you’re in. He didn’t respond, but pulled you further into him, placing your head on his chest. He ran his hand up and down your back, warmth seeping through your pyjamas. “I just can’t sleep. Not tired.” 

“Well, if you aren’t tired, there are some things I could think of doing that could wear you out?” his tone was suggestive, as the events of yesterday ran through your mind and suddenly you were standing beside the bed pacing. 

“I don’t understand you..” you mumbled, knowing he’d still hear you. 

“What do you mean? Darlin’ what’s going on?” he was genuinely confused at your behaviour, sitting in the middle of your bed looking like a kicked puppy. 

“Yesterday! You didn’t wanna sleep with me! Bucky you have every right to say ‘no’, but I felt so embarrassed after all that! I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore!” he opened his mouth to speak and you held your hand up to stop him. “And now, in the middle of the damn night, when I’m wearing my oldest fucking cozy clothes, you wanna go for a round?”

“There’s no way in hell I’ll ever not be attracted to you!! You’re the most beautiful person inside and out! And not to mention sexy as hell, Baby!” 

“So what’s going on then?” you felt exasperated, the innocent look on his face not helping. 

“I… I am more turned on by you in your regular pyjamas than when you’re in sexy lingerie.” he shrugged, not making eye contact. “You looked so damn beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but this-“ he motioned up and down your body, “Is what really gets me going.” 

“These mismatched pyjamas. These are what get ya there?” you shook your head in disbelief. 

“Yeah. Definitely. Good to go.” 

“Why??” you almost shouted. This was the exact opposite of how the majority of men you’d known would react to lingerie. 

“Because you’re comfortable.” 

“Pardon?” 

“I think you’re sexy in your regular pyjamas, because I know you’re comfortable. You’re not strapped into something, you’re not in an uncomfortable material. And mostly you’re comfortable enough to be around me, in old as hell pyjamas, and that really gets me going.” 

“So these get you going?” 

“Oh yeah.” 

“You’re ready to go right now?” you asked, biting your lip. 

“Why don’t you come back to bed and see?” he smirked. 

Within seconds, he was flat on his back with you above him. You couldn’t believe him. He was one of a kind. 

“I love you, Bucky.” 

“I love you too, Baby.” he said, before pulling you into a toe curling kiss.  

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine