#but for safety's sake i'll put all of them
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doeeyeddyke · 1 year ago
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Snap Out of It
Desi LGBT Fest
Day 8: The Acceptance You Hoped For vs. The Acceptance You Got
@desi-lgbt-fest
TW/CW: Body Horror, Flashing Images
(I’m afraid I don’t know how to censor images so the gif is beneath the cut. For the non flashing ver, see my reblog.)
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Snap Out of It
Desi LGBT Fest
Day 8: The Acceptance You Hoped For vs. The Acceptance You Got
@desi-lgbt-fest​
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izzy-b-hands · 5 months ago
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Instead of making a vent post abt my stupid fucking brain and mental health and the things that i absolutely have time to do/don't need to be done now bearing down on me yesterday and today like an old school cartoon train deadset on running over the main character of the piece, while the rest of my brain marinates in a soup made of every horrific thing happening in the world rn-
I'm going to go searching on ebay for stuff for my grandad for father's day (so i maybe, fucking maybe, can get a gift out on time for once in my fucking life) and try not to think abt my work shift in like. an hour and a half
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chaussetteblanche · 18 days ago
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and they were roommates pt. 3
pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)
part 1, part 2, part 4
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"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."
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When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."
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"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"
This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.
"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.
"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."
"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"
Oh.
You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.
"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."
"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."
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Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.
"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."
You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.
You hated it.
Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.
You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.
You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?
When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...
You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?
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Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.
The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.
Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.
So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.
Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.
Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos
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akutasoda · 6 months ago
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HELLOO
can I request a S/o who always puts others before herself and always gets hurt and injured after :3
you're selfless, im selfish
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synopsis - you're rather selfless and they hate seeing you get hurt because of this
includes - blade, luocha, aventurine, boothill
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angstyy, slight blood mentions, wc - 968
a/n: Hellooo! you didn't specify and i am currently on a massive star rail fixation so i hope you don't mind! if you do please let me know and i'll write another!
taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss
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blade ★↷
↪blade was immortal. he had little care for how many pieces he could be broken down into during a fight as at the end of the day he knew he would still walk away as a blade. weapon's were built to be durable, what kind of 'blade' would he be if he let up at the first sign of danger?
↪he was also used to thinking about nobody but himself, the stellaron hunters became the first exception but he knew they'd be able to take care fo themselves. so it made him suspicious when you'd willingly put him before yourself as what could you possibly gain by doing so?
↪it didn't occur to him just how angry he would get when he watched you get injured for the sake of his safety. not at you despite how much it semed that way. a weapon's job was to protect in a violent manner and his enemies quickly learnt that, especially when his shield would get hurt.
↪he would scold you for throwing yourself into dangerous situations but moved with a gentle contrast as he dressed your wounds. he'd remind you time and time again that he didn't need you to think about his safety, let alone others, and you should worry about yours.
↪but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you completely and so he would swear that he himself would protect you at all costs despite your insistence of putting him before you.
luocha ★↷
↪despite the coffin that shadowed the merchant, luocha was a healer. someone who followed yaoshi and valued that selfless, healing behaviour and that meant assisting those among the cosmo's in medical affairs for a fair exchange - he was also a wandering merchant afterall
↪he found it rather endearing at first, how you always put those you cared about above yourself. it was rather admirable but he thought less of this trait when it applied to battles. he would prefer you to be selfish and uncaring if it meant you didn't get unnecessarily harmed.
↪especially when it came to you throwing yourself straight into danger for his sake. luocha feared that one day you'd throw yourself into danger for the sake of someone else and he would lose you - he didn't want to carry around two coffins now.
↪he would start subconsciously keeping track of you during dangerous situations, he needed to make sure you didn't do anything too risky. although he didn't mind catering to your injuries, he'd prefer not to stare at his lover's bloody cuts and bruises or whatever injury you accumulated for too long.
↪the merchant may admire that selfless behaviour but allow him to be selfish for once when he places a kiss to your knuckles after dressing your wounds and asking you to stay by his side, to not leave him if he can't get to you in time.
aventurine ★↷
↪aventurine strived to follow the path of preservation, it was a goal of his. achieving this goal was solely for the purpose of protecting his people and those who had helped his journey not hindered it. so when he learnt his original quest was impossible, he needed to strive for something else.
↪he wanted to protect many things and his relationship with you was one of them. at first, he relished in that kindness you showed when you would openly admit or demonstrate how you would always place him above yourself - your selflessness was rather admirable.
↪but he didn't like as much when it meant you'd get hirt in the process. he would not be able to bear losing yet another person he cared about, especially when he had the power to prevent it - especially if you died for him.
↪most of the time, he would be able to prevent you from getting to hurt but crimson was an ugly colour on his lover and he felt a small sense of guilt when he saw it after a fight. you would notice how he'd always be shielding you if you ever threw yourself in danger.
boothill ★↷
↪only two people knew what happened to boothill, himself and the doctor - although some times he didn't think he knew himself. however one thing was clear, he had suffered an amount of pain that pushed his human body to it's limits and bended it to a point of no return. now, he didn't live for himself.
↪recklessness was what probably had landed him in this situation, however when one has a cyborg body how could he not be reckless? he found it rather charming how you always put those close to you above yourself, a noble quality but his perspective changed when he realised just what that meant.
↪he had seen first hand just how little you cared for your safety if it meant protecting someone you cared about. a bittersweet sentiment. it pained his synthetic heart when you would come from a fight all injured and bloody as if it was him in your shoes, he'd be fine. but you had willingly thrown yourself in the way for his safety.
↪he had a metal body, you had a human one - if anything he should be throwing himself in the way as he could be rebuilt. boothill would try so hard to get this message across to you as the last thing he wanted was for you to be pushed to those same limits of pain just for someone who had already been there.
↪he would'nt live for himself but he'd live for you if it meant keeping you safe.
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adinafay · 1 year ago
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I like to think Bhaal spends the entire timeline of BG3 just so incredibly confused and absolutely pissy about why he can't convince anyone - even his most special, Chosen, purest of Bhaalspawn- to murder for simple murder's sake.
Not that Bhaal doesn't appreciate murder more generally, but also how in the hells is he supposed to achieve global-genocide when everyone, even his own idiot kids, keeps using his precious murder as a mere tool, a means to their own ends, ya know?
He has to be a helicopter-parent to Durge about it:
Pre-tadpole Durge is so in-want of connection that they have to be under constant supervision by their specially-assigned butler to try and keep them on task. ("Stop bitching and let me live vicariously through you like all the other sport-parents!")
Then, even that isn't enough to stop them from connecting with Bane's lil shit "Gortash" and eventually starting in with the crown/Absolute plan ("Why in the hells are we using MY MURDER to help fucking Bane with his fucking tyranny?!")
Shortly after that Durge goes and gets merc'd and tadpoled by the other one... ("Have I taught my children nothing!? Orin really should know well by now that it's not 'murder' if they survive...")
... And then - clearly still prone to frivolous connection - they fucking gang up with a bunch of weirdos only to head home with other, new bad habits like "thinking for themselves" and "the apparent intent to entirely trash the plan they insisted on making with Gortash!" ("If you didn't want to play you shouldn't have had me sign you up for the team! Get your ass back in the game! You already got your Deathstalker uniform and everything! Now stop embarrassing me and maybe I'll even give you a slayer form.")
And, while Durge is being a rebellious lil Bhaalspawn, Bhaal also has to contend with:
His cultists, who are apparently killing mostly just for notoriety and/or safety amongst themselves. ("Quit playing around! I assure you I do not give a single fuck which one of you did it or how clean it was so long as the murder(s) did happen.")
Orin, who is playing at being an artist and completely absorbed in her exploration of murder and maiming as novel media to express her innumerable daddy issues ("Yes, I DO still like your lobotomized bloodkin more; at least they never wasted my time asking me to put all their shitty artwork up on the fridge.")
And Bane and Myrkul, who are presumably laughing their godly asses off and/or absolutely raging at Bhaal's inability to keep anyone at heel and how it's interfering with their mutual plan.
TL;DR: Life is hard when you're The God of Murder and neither your employees or your children properly respect the family business and your frenemies mock you for it.
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temptaetions · 9 months ago
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spellbound secrets ✩ stray kids (m.list)
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welcome to the spellbound institute of magic! have a look around, but don't peer too much — you could end up in a sticky web of secrets, lies, and love.
general content warnings: fluff, smut, angst, possible darker/heavy themes. warnings for individual fics vary, please read them accordingly before proceeding.
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˖⁺‧₊ angel eyes - bang chan ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @temptaetions
✩ pairing: bcc x reader
✩ specialty: healing | memory inducement
✩ genre: teacher x student | strangers/idiots to lovers
✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ one's elixir - lee minho ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @felixitate
✩ pairing: lmh x reader
✩ specialty: alchemy | potions
✩ genre: acquaintances to lovers | academic mentor
✩ synopsis: you’re a walking disaster. not just in minho’s eyes but for anyone in the academy so when he was asked to supervise you, he had to agree to ensure everyone’s safety. but is it worth the risk to involve himself in something that even you can't control?
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ sweet escape - seo changbin ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @temptaetions
✩ pairing: scb x reader
✩ specialty: interdimentionalism (pocket dimension creation) | empathic transference
✩ genre: friends to lovers | secret admirer
✩ synopsis: forever, perfectly together…and tell me, boy, now wouldn’t that be sweet?
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ fleeting mirage - hwang hyunjin ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @felixitate
✩ pairing: hhj x reader
✩ specialty: illusionism | phantasmagoria
✩ genre: rivals to lovers | childhood sweethearts?
✩ synopsis: as both the top students in your program, getting along should always have been maintained between you. however, something always sparks any feud, hindering your cooperation by whatever means necessary. would you be able to put it aside when your positions start to get threatened?
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ cherry bomb - han jisung ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @temptaetions
✩ pairing: hjs x reader
✩ specialty: fusionism | sentimental awakening
✩ genre: coworkers to lovers | mutual pining
✩ synopsis: lips on my lips, hearts beating as one…but you slip out of my fingertips, every time you run.
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ in bloom - felix lee ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @felixitate
✩ pairing: lyb x reader
✩ specialty: floramancy | herbalism
✩ genre: classmates to lovers | forbidden love
✩ synopsis: watching him from afar while he tends to those flowers never fails to make your heart flutter. but for the sake of your secret, you’ve kept your distance. until when can you avoid him before he notices the signs of your waning abilities that only he can maybe help with?
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ silver springs - kim seungmin ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @temptaetions
✩ pairing: ksm x reader
✩ specialty: catoptromancy | empathic transference
✩ genre: exes to lovers | semi-first loves au
✩ synopsis: i know i could've loved you, but you would not let me, i'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you.
✩ read here!
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˖⁺‧₊ shifting feelings - yang jeongin ₊‧⁺˖
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✩ sorceress: @felixitate
✩ pairing: yji x reader
✩ specialty: polymorphy | divination
✩ genre: enemies to lovers | soulmates
✩ synopsis: he’s an enigma. with enchanting eyes that became everyone’s whispers each time he passed by but you’re not shaken. who’s to say you can’t unravel the truth when he slowly reveals this part of himself that he’s been persistently guarding the more you pry?
✩ read here!
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host notes: hey! thank you for reading our collab, we planned this so quickly it makes my head spin. just for reference, all specialties in italics are secondary to their primary specialty, or an extension of it. everyone is a wizard. if you’d like to know more about each story then please head to our respective mail boxes! feel free to comment or send an ask our way to be added to a taglist. please have your age and/or year of birth in your description, otherwise you will not be added to the taglist. we hope you enjoy!
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temptaetions © 2024 || felixitate © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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delzinrowe · 3 months ago
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Got amy headcanons about being in a secret relationship with jjk? I feel like they'd all have separate reasons for keeping everything down low
For the sake of my sanity i'm not doing all of jjk like in my hc posts I hope you're not mad at me for that
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A/N: I only choose a few ones, if you want someone specific I haven't picked just send me another ask and I'll do my best. But these are the characters I feel the most and feel I can portray well. Includes: Yuji, Megumi, Takuma ☆ Choso, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Yaga
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Yuji just kind of accidentally kept it a secret. With Nobara around she talks a lot, and Yuji listens, he doesn't interrupt his friends. He was going to tell them about you two eventually, but whenever he wanted to tell them something came up, mostly missions. And after a while it slipped his mind that he hasn't told anyone. He's a kind and good guy, but he's not pushy when it comes to his own daily life. When he has good news he likes to share it with friends, but after a while of trying and failing he forgot about it.
Megumi is and has always been a more private and reserved person. He takes a while to warm up with others. So, once it got serious with you two he asked if you're okay with keeping it more private. Or rather, he implied it, you already knew it was gonna be more private. He doesn't like his private business being the talk of the town. After a while he would confide into Yuji, with the promise of him not telling anyone. Nobara? Hell no, out of the question. Megumi's main goal is to keep Gojo in the dark because the poor boy would never hear the end of it if Gojo ever found out he has a partner.
Takuma would only tell it to Nanami. He might have the feeling of shouting it from the rooftops that the person he likes also likes him back. But he would much rather just confide in his mentor. Which he does. And thanks to Nanami's private nature he doesn't tell anyone else, but he is proud and happy for Takuma. That's enough for our local skaterboy. Hearing that his mentor is happy that he's happy is all he needs, therefore no one else really needs to know about it. After a while he would lose that mindset and it would be replaced with "fuck it, I wanna show you off" which is what he does. He'd have his arm around you and walk around the entire school grounds and all over Tokyo just yelling "That's my partner!" "Watch out, happy boyfriend coming through." He's the epitome of golden retriever energy.
Choso doesn't really know the etiquette of dating, his worst fear is to do something wrong and lose you. He isn't sure if being in a relationship is something you keep private or parade around. He does see couples on the street and on tv, but it's still new to him. He's only had a human body for a few short months. The thought to introduce you to his sorcerer friends doesn't even really occur to him until you ask, which prompts a conversation between you where he asks you all sorts of questions on this matter. He eventually settles for only telling his brother Yuji as he's concered for your safety. He is a curse who murdered people after all.
Gojo keeps your relationship a secret from the very first moment, even if you wouldn't have expected it from him. Being known as the strongest came with a big target on his back, he's had bounties on his head since he was a toddler. Even if he can easily take care of any threat, he would do anything to keep you safe and out of danger. The less people know about his sole weakness the better. He does apologise and spoil you to make up for it, but he cannot and will not risk putting you in harms way. If you're involved his judgement isn't as clear as it should be.
Geto could potentially have two reasons, depending on if he stayed with jujutsu high or defected. If he stayed the most prominent reason to keep your relationship a secret would be Gojo. His best friend has his nose in everything, but it's also partly since he's known as one of the strongest and you prove a weakness, in that sense he's similar to Gojo. Now... if he defected, then it's solely to keep up appearances as cult leader. Since he's not stupid he knows that a lot of people only join his cult because of his looks, and he fears that once it's known he's in a steady relationship that his cult would lose a lot of members.
Nanami is not a secretive person, but he is a more private one. He doesn't like sharing his business everywhere. What's going on in his private life will remain private. He does not like to mix personal with work, therefore he would keep your relationship quiet because it simply has no place in his work life. Especially since coming home to you is his happy place that brings him peace, he wouldn't taint that by mixing personal and work.
Yaga is an authority figure. As principal he holds a certain status, while he doesn't care much for the authority he holds, he does need to be respected. It's therefor a mix between Gojo and Nanami, where he doesn't want to mix personal too much with work, but also doesn't wanna put a target on your back. Considering he is also the only one who knows how to make cursed dolls he is already the target of some people. Dragging you into all of this would only be harmful. The only one who really knows about you two is Panda, obviously.
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from-beyond-the-woods · 1 year ago
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Alright I'll bite. I live in Israel, yes. I served in the army, yeah. Does Israel mistreat Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank? Absolutely. My friends who are still enlisted tell me about the shit show that goes in there every day. I get it, there are a million reasons to hate the government and the IDF and whoever else you point fingers to. No side is innocent.
But assholes on motorcycles and in pickup trucks broke through the fence, entered civilian towns and military outposts alike, and just started MASACARING EVERYONE. THIS SHIT IS UNPRECEDENTED. And some MIGHT tiptoe around the point, and say that taking over outposts is fair because it's an occupation force and colonialism and what have you, but for fucks sake
They entered civilian homes. They shot everyone who moved. In locked houses, they set the home on fire and shot the families as they fled. I heard the phone calls - people screaming and begging for their lives as terrorists are walking around their home, stealing possessions, massacring everyone.
They didn't just murder colonialists, militants, occupying forces. They murdered kids who should've gone to school today. Parents working local agriculture, teachers, normal guys with an office job. They murdered dozens of elderly people who couldn't run away.
Not only murdered. Kidnapped. Living and dead, put on pickup trucks and herded back to Gaza. Stripped naked, desecrated and paraded around Gaza. I dare you to tell me the party goers, who were at a rave near one of the Kibbutzim near the fence, deserved to be shot at as they ran to safety. Hundreds of people missing. My Instagram stories filled with their faces, and a phone number attached - "help us find our loved ones. Contact lost. If anyone knows anything-" and at this point I skip them because there's nothing I can do.
My friends are enlisted down there. We're just a bunch of 20 year olds. My best friend is defending one of the villages who were infiltrated, she's trading shots with gunmen who already murdered half the place, she's messaging me once in a while to let me know she's alive. She should've been home for the weekend, we were supposed to watch Chicago now that it's on Netflix. Now neither of us sleeps, she's putting her life on the line and I'm wide awake terrified of the moment they call me and tell me she's gone.
This is mostly a rant. If you read all of it, thanks. I live up north, no need to worry for my safety for now. I don't have a good ending for this. Just, stay safe, I guess.
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genshingorlsrevengeance · 10 months ago
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OH LAWD I WOULD DIE FOR SHENHE AND SARA
Could you do some headcannons about their S/O being overly sweet towards them? Imagine them getting Shenhe tons of gifts and hugging her like a Koala holding onto a tree. Or Sara’s S/O straight up pulling out their archery skills just to get her attention and try their hardest to break her “professional” behaviour just to see her blush. GAAAA JUST IMAGINING THEM SOUNDS SO CUTE!
(Genshin Impact) Shenhe and Sara's S/O being overly affectionate
THE GAP MOE IS REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL
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Shenhe had not received any kind of physical affection in a very long time.
It's not as if she did not have anyone caring for her, Cloud Retainer and the Traveler certainly did.
But the love S/O gave to her could not be compared to anything in her life.
At first, S/O wanted to gift her many things, but since she didn't really have a house, she had to decline many of their bigger gifts.
Instead, she kept smaller items like a necklace adorned with a beautiful light blue gem in the middle, resembling her vision.
And her body did not budge whenever S/O hugged her with full force, though that was due to her being extremely strong.
(Shenhe) "I wish to return your affection wholeheartedly, S/O, but I cannot."
S/O looked at Shenhe curiously, their smile still wide.
(S/O) "Why?"
(Shenhe) "I don't think your body could withstand it."
(S/O) "Oh come on, we can try!"
Shenhe then complied.
S/O was out of breath for nearly half an hour.
Regardless, it was something they did not regret.
Whether it was hugging, kissing, giving gifts, S/O loved to figuratively (And sometimes literally) smother her in any type of love.
Shenhe's face mostly remained unchanged, but her heart seemed to race everytime she felt them in her arms.
There were many times when they shared a bed, S/O would just hold onto her, arms and legs trapping her in place.
It felt strange, but Shenhe did not mind.
If S/O was safe and happy, then she was as well.
===
S/O and Shenhe had gotten a fair distance away from Liyue Harbor. Not too far in case if trouble followed them and civilization was too far, but they could be left alone in the confines of nature comfortably.
Something Shenhe appreciated. She could simply enjoy S/O all to herself. They were planning to camp out together, if only just for a little bit.
She felt their hands wrap around hers, eagerly standing closer as they moved closer to put their head on her chest.
Shenhe made no sound, but S/O could tell that she was at ease. The way her shoulders slumped, eyebrows raised, and the faintest dusting of pink rose to her cheeks.
(S/O) "I'm really happy I get to spend the next few days with you, Shenhe!"
(Shenhe) "I am as well. But-"
Shenhe slowly stepped back, making sure her hands were still holding S/O. She tilted her head and asked S/O with her tone of voice lightly hinted with concern.
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S/O took a moment to think about their answer while Shenhe continued.
(Shenhe) "The mountains can get quite cold at night as well."
(S/O) "That's what you're here for!"
S/O lovingly stood closer, and nuzzled their head onto her shoulders.
(S/O) "I'll be fine to sleep anywhere as long as you're with me, Shenhe. Besides, I packed a tent and everything we need!...Well, that I need."
Shenhe nodded and sat down, her hand still tightly gripping S/O as they sat with her on the grass. S/O began cuddling onto her, both of them silently watching the clouds above slowly drift away.
Her heart throbbed when she felt their hand wrap around her waist, though it was not out of pain as she quickly learned in the beginning of their relationship.
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In truth, Sara is quite easy to fluster, whether it be from teasing or affection.
Unfortunately for her, S/O provided much of both.
Sara did prefer to keep their relationship private for both the sake of her pride and for their personal safety, which S/O thankfully mostly complied with.
But whenever it was just the two of them, S/O would hold nothing back.
(S/O) "Sara!"
S/O almost tackled her in a hug, if she weren't prepared then they would have both fallen over.
But, it was something Sara secretly found endearing. S/O would not get to hear that however, lest they somehow get even more lovey-dovey.
(Sara) "It's nice to see you too, S/O."
She gave them a firm hug back before gently pushing them back.
(S/O) "I can make you some Onigiri, go ahead and sit down!"
Never once in her life did Sara think she would walk into such a loving home after days of work.
But Sara was happy to have S/O provide her the love she never knew she wanted.
===
Sara sighed as S/O happily held her hand to a nearby food stand.
The vendor in question seemed shocked at S/O holding the hands of the General of the Tenryou Commission so casually, while Sara had to avert meeting their gaze. of confusion.
(S/O) "One stick of dango, please!"
As the vendor nodded, the memories of how this even happened came rushing back to her head.
...
(S/O) "Sara, if I can hit this bullseye, you have to go on a date with me in the city!" Sara raised her eyebrow at S/O's sudden challenge. They had a bow and a single arrow in their hands, pointing a crudely made training dummy with layers of circles on its chest. (Sara) "Where is this coming from, S/O?" (S/O) "Kind of a mix of things, honestly. One: I just want to impress you. And two: I want to treat you to something nice, but you won't let me!" Sara chuckled, rather too confidently if S/O were to add. (Sara) "While I do appreciate the thought, you have no need to do so-." (S/O) "I have every need to do so if I get to see you blush and have that cute frown!" Well, they were already doing that. Rather effectively too. (Sara) "Alright, I accept your challenge." Sara crossed her arms as she stood behind S/O. Their arms were wobbling at the strength, but she could tell they were trying to mimic the way she drew her bow. (Sara) "Hm, I doubt they're going to-" Before she could even finish, S/O let the arrow go and she watched, much to her horror, the arrow pierce the center circle. (S/O) "HAHA! I DID IT!" They turned towards her, a star gleaming in their eye. (S/O) "Let's get some dango together!" (Sara) "I-In the city?" (S/O) "Where else, silly?" Sara opened her mouth to protest, but she did make a promise after all. That was on her for underestimating the lengths S/O would go to spoil her. And there was also that smile of theirs that made her mind haze...
...
Sara sighed as she walked away from the vendor, noting that people were beginning to stare.
Before moving to walk away from the open sight of the streets, she turned to S/O, scratching the side of her head in a nervous tick.
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(S/O) "I know I am!"
S/O punctuated with a big grin, before thankfully, leading Sara away from prying eyes.
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cobaltperun · 6 months ago
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Lost (28) - Bounce
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 4.5k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-Kicked around, cut, stitched and scarred, I'll take the hit but not the fall, I know no fear, still standing tall-
She snuck through the shadows, careful to avoid being detected right away. If she remembered correctly Ghost-Lion was meant to patrol this corridor and then, just around the corner, she would reach the personal area Ghostface used as his meeting room and base of operation. Sure enough, she caught a glimpse of the robes and followed after the man. She needed to be careful not to cut his robes or damage the mask. After all, she needed them.
So, as he began climbing the stairs she ran up to him, put him in a chokehold you taught to her years ago and squeezed as hard as she could.
He grunted, turning and pushing back into the wall, making her almost let go of him, but she held on. She had to. For Tara. For Tara’s sake and safety Sam needed to be stronger than anyone, and so, in a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand when he began pulling her arms away from his neck, she leaned back and let both him and her tumble down the stairs.
~X~
Following Sam’s directions, you opened the doors and came face to face with a gun pointed at you.
“Shit, Y/N, it’s you,” Kirby sighed, lowering her gun.
Your eyes widened when you saw the state everyone was in. Anya was dead, Kirby had blood on her hands and was trying to help another woman out while Tara shakily walked over to you, and you automatically pulled her into your arms. “I’m here now,” you whispered softly, not entirely sure what happened here, but at least Tara was unharmed.
“Sam is trying to sacrifice herself,” Tara cried into your chest, and you had to pull away slightly.
“What?” you whispered, suddenly out of breath, but it made sense. The look on her face, her actions, she was tired of this and it wasn’t the first time she thought her death would solve everything.
But before you or anyone else could say anything you heard the sound of yacht sailing away, prompting you and Tara to run outside.
“Sam!” Tara cried out as the two of you saw the two figures through the windows, both wearing Ghostface masks and there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do to reach the yacht in time.
“You’re the MMA fighter, right? I have the boat, I can get you on board of that yacht,” the wounded woman said as she stumbled to her feet. You guessed this was Kirby’s mole, as well as the one who got hurt by the Ghostface you and Sam just killed.
“I owe you one,” you nodded. There was no doubt in your heart. One of those two was Sam, and you were going to bring her self-sacrificing ass back to Tara.
“Y/N,” Tara grabbed your hand and you just leaned down to kiss her.
“I’ll be right back,” you said, unlike Sam you had no intention of dying, or leaving Tara to raise your children alone. You knelt in front of her and kissed her belly twice. “I promise.”
“You better,” Tara whispered, letting go of your hand. You could see it in her eyes, though she was afraid, though she was worried for your life, she still had faith in you, she still believed you’d come back safe and with Sam with you.
~X~
She was staring right at her goal, at the end of this curse. She’d end the cult, her own life, and no one would ever target Tara again. She would be free from Billy’s legacy.
The sprained ankle and a couple of cuts on her body she got from fighting Ghost-Lion would be a disadvantage, but she’d push through the pain and finish the man off as quickly as possible. That was, at the very least, what Sam planned to do.
“I didn’t think you’d be the last one standing,” Ghostface told her. “I guess that’s the king of animals for you,” he chuckled a bit.
“Something like that, I guess. What now?” Sam approached him slowly, ready to stab him in the back.
“I’ll just start over, after all, much like killers from the Stab movies, we, as well, are replaceable. Though, this time I’ll start with killing Samantha,” he paused for a moment, looking ahead toward the open sea. “No more dramatic final girls, I’ll just kill her.”
His voice was calm, but Sam could sense the tension in it. Maybe it was just the fact that his entire plan fell apart in one night, or a few days at best, it didn’t really matter. But then she saw the glint of the knife and her eyes widened. He knew.
“I guess loyalty really is dogs’ greatest trait, only you weren’t loyal to me, were you, Samantha Carpenter,” he slashed at her and she just barely dodged being cut open. Instead, the blade cut through the robes and left her with a small cut on her abdomen instead. “Ghost-Lion was taller,” he simply said, continuing his assault as Sam stumbled back, unable to properly regain her footing with her ankle.
She was supposed to catch him off guard, not the other way around, but she still managed to catch his wrist and twist it to get him to drop the knife.
But her sprained ankle and the pain from falling down the stairs proved to be almost insurmountable disadvantage as he managed to lift her up and slam her against the controls, pushing the lever and speeding the yacht up in the process.
Sam gasped as the mask fell off her head and nearly blacked out when he punched her in the face, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. She lifted her leg up and kicked him in the balls, making him stumble back and drop to his knees.
“It’s about time I see who you are,” she didn’t know what to expect. Would it be someone she knew, even just vaguely, or would it be a complete stranger. What she saw made her freeze. The man looked like he was desperately trying to copy Billy Loomis, and in her disoriented state of mind she clutched her head and saw her father instead.
“I gotta say, he sure captured my look,” the monster in her head laughed at the sight and Sam shut her eyes, desperately trying to block the hallucinations out.
That one moment of weakness was enough for Ghostface to grab her and throw her to the floor. Before she could react he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the floor.
“I’m not going to stab you Samantha, I want to feel you die,” he said, an insane and sinister grin on his face told her everything. Her only hope was that the yacht would hit something and push him off her, but she still tried to pry his fingers from her throat.
~X~
The yacht was speeding up and you knew you’d only have one chance to do this.
“These aren’t good odds,” Kirby’s mole told you.
“Tell me about it,” you sighed and got ready to jump and grab onto the fence. “We don’t exactly have other options, go back to the harbor, get that wound properly treated, Sam and I got this!” you told the woman and jumped just barely reaching and clinging to the fence. “Oh, shit!” this definitely wasn’t as easy as regular pull ups, especially with your wounded palm, but you managed to climb over the fence. “All good! Now go!” you yelled and took off. Sam would likely be in the control room or however it was called.
You burst through what looked like important doors and saw Sam struggling to push the man off her as he tried to strangle her. He was no longer wearing his mask, but the robes made it clear he was the cult leader, the Ghostface. The sound of doors slamming against the wall made him look up and it gave Sam enough of an opportunity to push him off and roll away from him as you rushed in, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.
“Y/N!” Sam coughed, as she tried to regain her breath, but your entire attention was on the man as you slammed an uppercut into his jaw and followed it up by several hooks, each one gaining more momentum as you punched him from one side to another. Blood spilled from his mouth and nose and he stumbled back. You took a deep breath and pulled out a knife and before he could regain his composure you ended his life by slitting his throat.
You took a few deep breaths and turned to Sam. “You okay?” she wasn’t exactly okay, she had a few shallow cuts and her ankle was probably sprained, but she was alive.
Sam nodded, leaning back against the wall and tossing the knife aside. It was finally over. “On a scale from one to ten, how angry at me are you?”
“Nine point as long as Tara wants you in her life it doesn’t matter,” you were angry, but how you felt didn’t matter as much as Tara getting to keep her sister in her life. “But you better make it right for her, and Sam,” you paused, glaring at her. “She can never know you were the one who framed me,” you decided and went over to the levers and all the other things you have never seen in your life. “Right, let’s figure this shit out and just go home.”
Sam didn’t say a word, instead she just took what you said in and waited.
“As worthless as it is, I’m sorry I got you arrested,” she apologized, and you gritted your teeth.
“Just stop talking, Sam,” you really didn’t need reminders of that day.
~X~
Agent Woolf came back alone, without you or Sam, and barely clinging to consciousness as she stumbled out of the boat. Kirby quickly ran over to her and helped her over to where her and Tara were. Tara was happy the woman was still alive, and that she’d likely be fine, but she still worried. You and Sam were taking too long and the yacht was getting further away.
“They’ll be fine, Tara,” Kirby told her, but she was starting to lose hope.
“They better be,” she whispered, and then, just as she said that she saw the yacht turning in the distance and her heart soared. There could only be one reason for that!
A few long minutes later she saw you and Sam coming down from the yacht, and though Sam was limping she didn’t look like her life was in danger.
“Go,” Kirby pushed her lightly as she remained frozen just watching you and Sam coming closer to her. And as if broken out of her trance she just ran, jumping as she reached you and Sam and hugging both of you as tightly as she could.
“Thank goodness!” she cried out kissing you and then burying her face in Sam’s neck. “You asshole! Why would you do this to me?!” she felt her lungs burning as she sobbed.
“Tara I-“ Sam tried to speak.
“Not a word! You hear me! You don’t deserve to apologize, you just, you left me again!” she took a step back and nearly pushed Sam away, but then, through her tears, she took in Sam’s appearance. The sunken cheeks, the lost weight, the few cuts Sam received, as well as the way Sam was limping, and she just wailed and nearly dropped to her knees. She would have, if Sam didn’t reach her in time and pulled her into a hug.
“I missed you so much Tara, I don’t deserve to apologize, but I’m so, so sorry!” Sam was crying as well, clinging to Tara so hard it almost hurt.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to all the time she spent worrying for Sam, all the fear and despair and the need to have her sister back by her side. And she finally had Sam back in her life, and she didn’t ever want to let Sam stay away from her for this long again.
~X~
She didn’t deserve it, but around the beginning of May she walked out of the courtroom with essentially a slap on the wrist. Released on parole because of her efforts to bring the cult down and evidence she gave them that was putting people behind bars. She should have been in prison as well. She should have been punished, but she didn’t get that, she was almost rewarded instead.
Her impulses to kill, to hurt people were overlooked in favor of who she killed and what she brought. And Sam hated herself for that.
Could she ever truly forgive herself for everything that happened? For all the ways she put the people she loved in danger? For all the people she cared about that were dead?
She couldn’t know for sure, but she had her doubts as she approached the police car driven by the woman that was a mole in the cult. Tara would be pissed when she finds out Sam didn’t call her, but she wasn’t certain of the outcome of the trial, she didn’t even tell Tara when it would be. Just in case she was sentenced to years and years in prison, she didn’t want Tara to have to see her being taken away. She’d go and visit her baby sister, and you, though that would be a bit awkward, but she just needed to collect her thoughts. Thankfully, Kirby respected that.
“Congratulations on your freedom,” the woman said as Sam sat down next to her.
“Thanks. Not just for this, for everything you did,” Sam said, it was almost funny how she was yet to learn the woman’s name.
“No need to thank me, I was doing my job,” she replied and began driving Sam away from the court.
“Am I ever going to learn your name?” Sam asked out of the blue.
The woman grinned and turned to Sam when they reached the red light. She offered her hand to Sam and smiled softly. “I am Drew Woolf,” she said.
And so, Sam properly met the lady that was for some time her only ally in the cult.
~X~
It didn’t have anything to do with Ghostface showing up again, Tara and you had the conversation even before she got pregnant. You both wanted to let your kids grow away from the busy streets, to have clean air, or as clean as it could get, and lots of space to play around. No more apartments, no more busy streets. You wanted to settle down, to have complete control over your home. So, you went and purchased a fairly big empty patch of land in Colorado Springs, a short drive away from Pikes Peak and though it took some time, especially since Ghostface thing happened, the house was built and you were finally ready to move in in the middle of July.
You parked your car outside the house. A two-story tall building, fairly large and spacious, with a yet to be filled backyard. But that was a project for another day, or, well, a year, since a lot of your attention would be taken up by the kids that would be born by the end of September.
You got out of the car, smiling at Tara and winking, silently telling her to stay in her seat as you went around and opened the doors for her.
“My lady, your hand please,” you bowed slightly, offering Tara your hand, and she laughed, accepting your joking gesture.
“It looks good from the outside,” she said, the house looked secure, and, because you had to be careful, there were motion sensor cameras around the house already installed. “Secure,” she smiled as you hugged her from behind, your hands resting on her belly.
“We’ll be fine,” you whispered, kissing her cheek and smiling when you felt one of the twins kicking. They were active babies, and if anyone asked you Tara looked incredible.
“Mhm, let’s go inside,” she leaned back against you for a moment and then took your hand and pulled you along. The basement was elevated, and only four feet of it were beneath the ground, for one reason. The gym. You separated the basement into two parts, a garage for your car and an empty space if Tara ever decided she wanted one as well, and then there was a still empty separated part that was meant to be used as your gym. For the sake of convenience, the gym had a small bathroom, just in case you wanted to take a quick shower, or simply wash your hands before going upstairs. The gym was also connected to the first floor via indoor stairs. Tara led you up, to a spacious living room, that doubled as a mini library of books and movies and all the things you and Tara learnt to enjoy over the years, your gaming console included, a very nice kitchen and dining room. There was also the hall leading to the main entrance and the stairs that led to the second floor where you had five rooms, one of which was designated as home office for you and Tara.
Overall, it was a big house, maybe even a bit too big for your soon to be family of four, but you wanted a room for each of the kids, and your own room and a guestroom so, that was the logic behind the number of rooms on the second floor.
Tara kissed you on the lips when you finally sat down on your bed. “It’s perfect,” she whispered against your lips before she pushed you to lie down and straddled you, a mischievous smile on her face.
~X~
September was coming to a close, as was Tara’s pregnancy, and one slow night you were just lazing around in the living room, watching some TV show. Tara had to leave you for a few minutes, so you just scrolled trough the news until she came back.
“You know, this is at least partly your fault,” Tara groaned as she sat down next to you. She’d give birth any day now, so you were both extra careful and always ready to drive to the hospital if the kids decided to rush things.
You gently lifted her feet up to the sofa and took her socks off. Giving Tara a massage became a bit of a habit, and she repeatedly showed you how much she appreciated your efforts. “How so?” you humored her as you began rubbing her left foot. It became her go-to joke lately, a tiny tease and complain do to all the extra weight she was carrying around.
“How? You got me pregnant,” she nudged you jokingly with her right foot.
You grinned at that. “Mhm, my strap can do anything,” you chuckled when Tara jerked slightly. You accidentally tickled her, and her feet were ridiculously ticklish.
She sighed contently. “Wouldn’t that be nice, no medical procedures and all that,” she placed her hand on her belly. “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said, smiling widely all of a sudden. “They are kicking more often. Tiny MMA fighters,” she chuckled as you laughed.
You reached over, placing your hand next to hers. Soon, soon your children would be born and it would no longer be just you and Tara, it would be four of you.
“Y/N,” she spoke softly, almost timidly and you looked into her eyes.
“Yeah?” you instinctively moved to hold her hand.
“What if they end up having asthma?” she asked.
Your eyes softened. It wasn’t asthma itself Tara was worried about. She knew both of you would take care of your children and love them regardless of their health. It was the idea of the children, or even one of the kids inheriting something she had, in her eyes passing down her asthma felt like hurting them.
You opened your mouth but closed them in order to properly phrase your answer. “If they do, they’ll have us to teach them how to live without it affecting them too much,” you remembered sleepless nights with Tara when you were kids, you remembered how worried you were, how much she would struggle to breathe during the worst nights, no matter what you did. You remembered how weak and delirious from the sickness she would be, how she would end up being so exhausted she often wouldn’t remember everything.
~X~
One such time was shortly after Tara turned seventeen, a few days after Christmas. You came back from a fight to find her just about ready to pass out at your doorstep, she was just sitting in the hall, barely conscious when you climbed up the stairs of the apartment building.
“Shit! Tara!” you rushed to her side and picked her up off the floor. “You’re burning up, damn it why didn’t you call me?” you managed to unlock your doors and quickly put her in your bed, sitting her up and letting her lean against the propped-up pillow. You were gone for one day and this happened. You knew her mother wasn’t at home, the damn drunk, but Tara didn’t even tell you she was sick, and this wasn’t how she should be after only one day.
“Fight. You were busy,” she mumbled, pulling your blanket over her body.
You turned the heating on and poured water into the kettle. “You know I would have thrown the fight if I knew,” you would scold her later, once she recovered, for now you were looking for medicine that could help her. You had a bunch of medicine thanks to Tara’s frail health. “Right, temperature first,” you fussed over her like you usually did when she was sick. “I should really take you to the doctor,” but she wouldn’t listen to you.
“You’re all I need,” she muttered. Doctors were expensive and she made you swear you wouldn’t take her to the hospital and pay for the bills a long time ago because she knew you’d pay if you took her there. You did do that once, about two years ago, and Tara still complained about that every now and then. She tried to pay you back, but you wouldn’t budge.
“Tara,” you sighed, respecting her wishes for now, but if she didn’t get better by the morning you’d actually take her to the hospital, promises be damned.
“Just come here,” she sat up and you knew what she wanted, so you got behind her and reached out for the pillow, only for Tara to place her hand over yours. “Skip it, please,” she just lied down on your chest and, though she coughed afterwards, took a deep breath. “I love you, you know? I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” she said in her exhaustion, and you just held her.
“I love you too, you dumbass,” you whispered, your heart breaking when she got hit with another coughing fit and all you could do was hold her and rub her back.
Tara was better tomorrow morning, her temperature dropped as the night went on and she woke up in the bed alone around noon. That’s how exhausted she was.
“Hey, sleepy head, how are you feeling?” you sat down on the bed with the glass of water and her medicine in hand.
Tara leaned her head back, groaning a bit. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she apologized and winced when the sudden movement made her dizzy.
“Apology accepted if you’re apologizing for not telling me you were sick,” you sighed, waiting for her to properly wake up.
“You know what I mean,” she mumbled, and you knew, unfortunately, you knew. She was apologizing for relying on you again. Finally, she accepted the medicine and leaned back once again, she was still a bit weak, so she needed to rest. “I hate being sick, I can’t separate what’s real and what’s a fever dream,” she complained as you got up to make her a breakfast. “Like, last night I dreamt you, you know what, never mind, it’s too embarrassing,” her face was red, and you assumed sickness was only partly to blame.
~X~
You never found out what her fever dreams were. It didn’t matter now. You moved from the end of the sofa and hugged Tara from behind. You kissed the top of her head and pulled her close to you. “Whatever happens, whether they are healthy or not, we’ll be there for them every step of the way,” you whispered, absolutely certain of your words.
“I know,” Tara nodded, turning her head to kiss you. “My Love,” she rested her head against your chest and listened to your heartbeat.
~X~
A few days later it was happening! It happened! It…
You were about to pass out, you weren’t ready for this! You held Tara through her labor as much as she held you and you nearly fainted when you heard the first baby, a boy, crying at exactly fourteen minutes after two a.m. only for the second one, this time a girl, to come out twenty-three minutes later.
“Congratulations! You got a boy and a girl!” the midwives brought the two babies and gave them to Tara as she was resting, and you couldn’t help but cry as you watched the two bundles of joy.
“You two really are tiny,” she whispered, bringing them closer and carefully hugging them.
Could you touch them? You were an MMA fighter, you were used to violence, not babies that were born less than an hour ago!
“Hey, come here,” Tara whispered, exhaustion vanished from her eyes the moment she got to hold them, and you swallowed the lump in your throat and reached over to touch them.
“I…” you couldn’t say anything, you were completely speechless.
“I know,” Tara smiled, she could feel the tremble of your hands on her own, as you chose to place them there just in case. “I thought of names.”
“I’m fine with any names you want,” you quickly told her, only now realizing you didn’t really have this conversation.
“How about Zack and Susan?”
You just froze and looked at Tara, honestly unable to process all the emotions you were feeling, so, instead, you just nodded, leaning over to quickly kiss her on the lips to hopefully convey even the smallest bit of what you were feeling.
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
Taglist: @alexkolax
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muddyorbsblr · 11 months ago
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the final Lady Sharpe part 4: something to look forward to
Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo
Summary: You and Edith make significant progress on your mission to put Lucille behind bars; Thomas makes a confession before you go to sleep
Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: ghosts; a lil bit of steam [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; more pining; simp Thomas
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The ink had dried enough on the final document you were working on duplicating for tonight that you could group them together and place the original papers back in Lucille's hiding place. Tomorrow morning if ever she were to check on them, she would be none the wiser of what had been transpiring over the last two weeks. You repeatedly clenched and unclenched your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them after writing with barely a pause for break over the last few hours.
"Tomorrow we'll be done with all the documents," you whispered into the silence, feeling Edith's presence nearby as you made your way to Thomas' workshop. "I'll need you to show me where the phonograph cylinders are hidden, and if you know which one has Lucille's demented confession…"
"I'll show you the way," she confirmed. "And I'll make sure that none of the more…how do I put this…bloodthirsty spirits don't touch you. They tend to be a bit overly protective of their turf."
"The what?" You froze in place at her mention of bloodthirsty spirits. You had enough of a fright when you'd first "met" her and Enola, you might not survive encountering their less agreeable companions. The feel of someone nudging you from behind had you moving down the corridor again.
"Don't you worry about them, Y/N. I'll do my part to keep them away, explain to them that you're our friend, and you'll put an end to Lucille's lifelong murder spree. It might take time for them to fully understand, but they will."
Once you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, you heard the exaggerated groan that belonged to your fleeting husband. Checking the candle in your hand, there was only about a thumb's worth left.
"Right on schedule," Edith remarked before you felt a nudging sensation on your shoulder. "You know he must really care for you if he's willing to endure being with her for the sake of your safety. Before she made him go back out into the city to find a new wife--well, a new victim, he looked gaunt. Almost like he found his life grotesque. Then he came back here with you and…there was color in his face again. Like he's allowed himself to live while he wooed and married you. There's a happiness in him when he's with you that I only ever saw glimpses of back when I was--"
Her words fell dead, but you had a feeling you knew what the sentiment was. Back when I was alive. Back when I was his wife.
"Why Miss Edith Cushing, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing matchmaker with your ex-husband and his current charlatan of a wife," you mumbled, trying not to look to deeply into her words, her testimony of Thomas' time before you. You were already having enough trouble keeping your affections for him at bay whenever he engaged in your routine of a kiss to cap off the night, marking yet another rung on the progression ladder. Lucille's incarceration becoming ever closer.
You decided to hide the duplicated papers in between the pages of his sketchbook, thinking the chances were slim that Lucille would look into them since he only kept concept art of the toys he wished to work on within it. Flipping through the pages to evenly distribute the additional papers, you found a set of sketches that had absolutely nothing to do with toy designs.
The last few pages that he'd worked on in the journal were filled with sketches of you. Some depicted you asleep, others as if the image he had in mind was of you next to him at the dining table. And a full page that showed the bedroom you shared with the baronet, you perched on the edge, a light wash of orange painted on the page, like the scene was illuminated by firelight.
That was the day you arrived at Allerdale Hall. The fleeting moments of desirous bliss you had before reality came crashing down on you.
"You say this marriage is all an act for you both now, but it doesn't look that way. Not from where I'm standing…well, floating." Both of you shared a chuckle before she posed a question at you. "Y/N something I noticed at night when he makes his way back to you…there's an excitement in him, as if he can't move fast enough."
"I--I didn't know about that part," you answered her in hushed tones as you made your way to your shared bedroom, maneuvering the barely moonlit halls with what little candlelight remained. "I usually try not to look at him before we sleep. I fail, of course, but I make the effort. Granting his request for a kiss after he washes the night off of him was already a miscalculation on my part--"
"Completely understandable miscalculation," she quipped, managing to quietly open the bedroom door wide open. "Far too handsome for me to even think of knowing any better back then."
"My thoughts exactly," you mumbled, stepping into the bedroom and disposing of the used candlewax before stretching and allowing yourself to relax from the night's clandestine activities. "Goodnight, Edith."
"I'll talk to the spirits inhabiting the corridor where the cylinders are hidden," she offered, a faint whispering joining her once again before you heard her echoing chuckle. "It seems your husband's rushing to make his way to you. You still have quite the night ahead. Goodnight, my friend."
You could feel the fatigue setting in as you let the tub fill for Thomas' bath before putting away your tools and your blades, mentally preparing yourself for another night of insufficient sleep. Just as you had for the better part of the last two weeks.
Right as you made your way back to your side of the bed and shook your hair loose from your bun, Thomas walked through the open door. You gave him a small smile. "I should be done with the documents tomorrow, Edith and I will work on transcribing the recording cylinders that can lead the case more to Lucille than you two days from now at the latest."
"That's wonderful news, darling," he beamed at you, running his gaze over you briefly before walking toward the bathroom. "I shall see you in a few moments," he told you, his voice echoing across the tiles. A few seconds later the sound of the water sloshing and a sinfully satisfied groan filled the room as he sat into the tub. "You truly are a godsend, my wife. Thank you."
You did your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach hearing him call you that. You wouldn't hear it for much longer with the progress you were making. "You're welcome," you answered back, fighting back your own sounds of relief once your back hit the bed and you allowed yourself to finally relax for the night.
The cumulative efforts of the last dozen or so days seem to have finally taken its toll on you, your eyes fluttering shut as soon as your head hit the pillow. You hadn't been able to hear the sound of Thomas padding his feet on the floor and back to you, or his little gasp as he saw you in your slumbering state.
"No…" he sighed, climbing into bed with you. "Y/N, darling, please tell me you haven't completely fallen asleep yet," he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.
"Hmm?" You leaned in to his touch, feeling a strange sense of comfort when your cheek rubbed against his slightly calloused hand. "'M awake…" you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. He gave you a tender smile when your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but return it.
It was only in these moments just before you both went to sleep, your parts in this perilous operation done for the night, that you could allow yourself to almost feel as if you were a normal married couple. Just laying in bed together before going to sleep, sharing a quick goodnight kiss before he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.
Perhaps even indulge yourself, even for a moment, in the dangerous truth that once this was all over, you would miss these fleeting moments of peace with him. You'd miss how he held you through the night and how you'd wake up wrapped in his arms. How in the last few days he would greet you in the morning with a soft kiss to your nose before you both made your way out of bed and stepped out of your room.
You would miss him when all this was over. When you'd both signed the divorce papers and went on your separate ways, and you were back in your apartment in the city, going to bed alone, you would miss him.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a small sound coming from the back of his throat as he sighed into the kiss, almost as if he was relieved. "This is the only thing getting me through the nights," he said solemnly, settling more comfortably into the bed as he kept kissing you. "Knowing that this was what awaited me when I get back."
Instead of your usual night routine of a few kisses and he would pull you into his arms, both of you falling asleep to the sound of the other's breath evening out, he moved his body closer, kissing his way to your neck, his hand traveling down the side of your body until it settled at your waist. His lips began to trace along the neckline of your nightgown, the contented hums against your skin combined with the feel of his lips on you had you struggling for breath. "Thomas--"
"It should be you," he whimpered, his exhales warming your skin. "I should be spending my night with you. Laying with you." He kept on kissing along your neckline, his other hand pulling along the string that exposed your décolletage and he immediately pressed his lips to your chest, above your heart. "You're my wife, I should be with you."
He kissed his way back to your lips, your shock from his confession letting his tongue slip past your lips and tangle with your own. It was like flames licked all along your body at the contact, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingers weaved into his onyx curls.
"Thomas, wait--" you tried to say, placing your hands on his chest in a paltry attempt to get him to pause for a moment, failing to fight against your eyes fluttering closed and your entire body melting under him the moment his tongue delicately ran along the roof of your mouth.
"I want to lay with you," he said once he pulled away, looking at you with those wide pleading eyes that likened him to a pup asking for a treat. "May I?"
For the love of all things good in this world say yes, you hissed at yourself. You struggled to breathe properly, fighting against every instinct to give in as he repeatedly whispered "please" into your skin. Trying to not let the curiosity and desire consume you and see how far your husband was willing to go.
This was the fantasy you wanted to lose yourself in, where by some miracle when all this was over and you both made it out alive, that you'd found something with each other that neither of you wanted to lose. That after all this perhaps you could have a life together, preferably far away from Allerdale Hall and the figurative and literal ghosts that roam the corridors.
The fantasy that perhaps when you were both safe from Lucille and she was serving her time behind bars, locked away where she couldn't harm anyone anymore, that Thomas might not want to sign the divorce papers. Because maybe he was falling in love, too.
"We've come so far already, we can't afford to lose focus now," you answered him, your voice coming out so small it was like the words all but refused to get through the lump in your throat. "Once all this is done, and we're free of her, you'll be free to do whatever you please…with whomever you please."
The last part left a bitter taste in your mouth, like it physically pained you to say the words.
"You're right," he sighed, leaning away enough so that he could look at you. The expression on his face was akin to that of a wounded pup, making the guilt and regret from your decision overwhelm your system. "Of course." He moved over to his side of the bed, taking a breath before hesitantly touching his fingers to yours. "May I still hold you?"
You didn't think twice, moving over to him and settling into his arms. "Yes, of course." The words refused to be spoken, but you'd found a strange comfort in his embrace. That despite the very real danger you both found yourselves in, and the looming dire consequences of Lucille and the business end of her cleaver if you made so much as one misstep on this perilous endeavor of yours, you felt almost a safety in his warm embrace.
And while no one would ever be able to get you to admit it, it made getting up out of bed in the mornings near impossible. You didn't want to leave him. You wanted him all to yourself.
All the more reason why you needed to be done with this and go your separate ways. You should never be so selfish as to beg him to stay with you and deny him yet another freedom. So much had already been stolen from him.
He brushed a lock of your hair away from your face before asking softly, "How long do you reckon before Scotland Yard comes here after you send the papers?"
"Not long," you answered him, your words full of confidence in your peers. "I'll include a summary of my findings to help them through the papers I've sent them, process them faster. I'll also try and emphasize the urgency of our situation, that we're currently living in a manor with a woman that has the intention and means, not to mention the stomach, to kill me. That we have very good reason to believe our lives are in imminent danger. Should get them moving pretty quick."
"And what are we to do until they arrive?" You could feel him tensing as he anticipated your response.
Bile flooded your stomach from what you had to tell him. "We keep routine." His beautiful face looked so pained as you said the words. "She has to believe that there's nothing wrong, that everything's going to plan. If she gets even the slightest whiff that we're up to something and she kills me. Maybe even you if she finds out that you helped."
He took a shuddering breath, pulling you closer against him so he could press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's hope they move quickly then," he mumbled against you, pressing more kisses on the same spot as he took calming breaths. "I can barely stomach any more of it." His breath hitched at his words, his tone rife with shame.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, placing your hand on his chest, feeling his pulse sprinting like a madman. "This burden shouldn't be on you. Never should have been. She's stolen so much from you…" Your sentiment caught in the back of your throat as you did your damnedest to fight back tears. "I'll do my best to make sure she doesn't steal any more of your life away."
"What if she figures out what we've been up to? Or if she gets impatient and realizes there's no money coming after all this time?"
It took you a moment before you could answer, the implication hanging over you both now like the Sword of Damocles. "Then Scotland Yard will arrive here to a corpse. Either mine or hers."
Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I won't let her hurt you, I swear it." He stole a few more kisses from you before he cradled your head against his chest. "You should sleep, I can feel how tired you are."
"Exhausted," you confessed, settling into his embrace, the comfort from his hold blanketing over you as your cheek rubbed against the soft hairs on his chest. "Goodnight, husband."
You couldn't resist calling him that. In a few short weeks you'd never be able to again.
He pressed his lips to the top of your head, stroking your hair before he whispered, "Goodnight, my darling wife."
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As the minutes passed, and the only sounds that filled the bedroom were your breathing and the crackling of the fireplace, Thomas found himself unable to succumb to sleep just yet. He was still riddled with so many questions that he couldn't bring himself to ask you quite yet.
What if by some freak accident of a chance, Lucille comes across one of your colleagues when she runs her errands in the city and they were to mention who you were, and what you did before you married him? What if now that she was armed with this new information, she deemed you too much of a threat and decided to do away with you like she'd done with so many other innocent women?
What if she decided to make it even worse, and ordered him to kill you instead? Spout some nonsensical notion that he needed to get his hands dirty this time around so she could see if he still had the stomach for it?
He knew he wouldn't be able to hurt you, that he would be completely unwilling to. But would he be able to protect you against Lucille?
And the question that had him looking upon the coming weeks with a mix of dread and hope, all depending on how you would react if he were to even muster up the courage to say the words: What if you stayed together after this fleeting partnership of yours? What if you were open to exploring what a life together would truly be like? Move away from Allerdale Hall and find a place in the city?
"What if I begged you not to leave me?" he whispered into the empty silence, stroking the backs of his fingers along your cheek. "What if I've fallen in love with my wife, and I want to turn our marriage into something real?"
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A/N: *popping out my head from my writing hidey hole* Well hi there! Been a long while since I updated this story, but I can promise you now…I didn't abandon it 🫡 And we're picking up with our precious meow meow baronet big tiddy goth husband really showing his hand here that he's catching feelings 🥹
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog
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daenysx · 4 months ago
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hiii it's the crying anon !!! (lol) ibe been so sad today bc i literally failed my ap exam like i did terrible and i e just been so sad and in my head all day :/// i literally just need a hug like im so sad and i need a james potter rn :( would you kind writing something for this ??? if not, it's totally okay my lovely , have a great day !!!
i'm so sorry, baby, i hope this helps making you feel better a bit!! you can always reach out when you're sad (if you wanna talk to someone!!) i'll be here. love u <33333
james potter x fem!reader
you try to stay calm as you knock on james's door.
he shares the apartment with sirius and remus but you know they are not here right now. it's a relief, no matter how close friends you are with them, you wouldn't want them to see you cry.
when james opens the door, you first spot his glasses. his hair looks messy, wild waves finding their own shape on his head, his skin warm. he looks like he's just woken up, you feel sorry for interrupting his sleep.
"i'm sorry, jamie." you begin saying. "were you sleeping?"
james quickly holds your hand to welcome you inside. "just fell asleep on the couch, angel. i'm glad you wake me, it always messes with my night sleep."
you give him a broken smile. james closes the door, he helps you take off your jacket. you put your bag on the floor, slipping out of your shoes, never looking at james's direction as you make your way to his bedroom. he follows you.
the room smells like him everywhere, and the safety you feel around james overwhelms you so hard, it hits you. you start crying without any control, without trying to stop yourself. james looks surprised but he reacts quickly as always, he holds your arms gently, then his kind fingers are on your chin to see your face.
"sweetheart." he says. "what's- what's wrong?"
"my exam." you manage to say and he understands. james doesn't like asking unnecessary questions about a situation when you cry your eyes out, especially. you can tell everything later, when you calm down. he knows the exam is important, he knows how much you studied, and how stressed you were days before.
"i'm sorry." he says, reaching for you. "oh, my baby." he coos, you feel so vulnerable in his arms as he holds you, your face tucked in his neck with his hands rubbing on the tense muscles of your back. you cry against him, but james is strong. he'll hold you as long as you need him.
he strokes your hair, drying up your fresh tears as much as he can. you lean on him, your legs feel numb, and your head hurts. you tried to stay strong all day long, keeping a neutral face even though you were disappointed, but now that it's safe, you let out every emotion that begs to be free.
james whispers gentle words against your ear. he doesn't know if they help but he never liked silence. you lift your head to see him, your wet cheeks and wobbly lip crash his heart. you never deserve to cry. he rubs two desperate thumbs on your cheeks to get your pretty face back from tears.
"my head hurts, jamie." you say. "can i have some water?"
"of course." james says. "sit on the bed, angel, i'll be right back."
he takes a bottle of cold water from the fridge. you don't like eating when you're upset, james knows this, so he won't ask if you're hungry. he returns to his room, gets on his knees to reach your spot on bed.
you take a few sips from the bottle. it helps cooling down your throat. you look at james's worried face. he tries to hide it but his forehead has wrinkles, they always appear when he gets nervous.
"i'm okay." you say. "i'm sorry, that was- a lot. i did really bad, i just-"
"baby." he hushes you with a kiss on your hand. you look like you're explaining for his sake and not because you want to speak. "you have nothing to be sorry for. let's talk about this later, okay? you need to get some sleep."
you nod gratefully. james gives you one of his rugby team t-shirts. you change into it quickly, your legs stay bare. he helps you get under the covers, joins you exactly two minutes later after taking off his clothes and texting remus to let him know you'll be sleeping in his room.
he is so warm, you wrap your legs around his immediately. your head stays on his chest as he holds your waist and plays with your fingers with his other hand. you take quiet breaths to relax, your eyes hurt from all those crying.
"it's all gonna be okay." he silently promises. "can you try not to think of it for a few hours, lovely girl? i know it's hard but- you need to sleep on it. you need to get some rest."
"okay." you say. you have no energy left. james turns to his side to press you better against him. you think you'll be better once your breathing turns normal. he strokes your hair gently and squeezes your body just the way you like. you wrap a tired arm around his waist. closing your eyes, you try to forget about everything.
james kisses your forehead. he thinks a good cup of coffee and your favorite breakfast can make the morning a bit better for you. he'll listen if you wanna talk, answer your questions if you have any. he thinks about how upset you've been all day long and a protective wave washes over him again. his arms around you has never been this tight.
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lesbianashleywilliams · 10 months ago
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So those of you who have been following me may have noticed that I all but disappeared for about three months...well, that's because I've been planning to go to Japanese language school, and the wheels have really begun to start turning!!!!!!
I have been given the opportunity of my lifetime to be able to attend a Japanese language course at the International Study Institute in Tokyo's Shinjuku Ward. The course runs for a year, with the opportunity to extend it to two years, if my grades and money are sound [insert sound of children cheering here].
Being able to study Japanese locally and long-term has been a life goal of mine since I was fourteen. Though I'll probably never be able to fulfill my teenage dream of being an interpreter/translator for expats, this feels like the next best thing. Due to suffering from several comorbid chronic conditions that have majorly altered my life, most notably the beast known as systemic lupus erythematosus, I will probably never be able to seize another chance like this ever again. I won't be going in as a total novice, as I was able to take a year's worth of 1000-level Japanese language courses in college…before I had to drop out…… Since then I've been self-studying and using language exchange apps for practice, but nothing will beat the experience of using it in the day-to-day.
At this point in time (January 2024), my first six months of tuition have already been paid for. I am currently in a quiet waiting period while I wait to get to the next steps of the Certificate of Eligibility/Student Visa process. Before that, though, I need to secure my flight and housing. For the sake of my health, safety, privacy and comfort, a sharehouse will not be an option; I will have to seek a private apartment. I am here today to request assistance with the aforementioned flight and initial housing costs. It's still too early to commit to either of those, but:
The average cost of flexible one-way flights from where I am to either of the two Tokyo metro airports (Haneda and Narita) is running around $1200
I am doing some preliminary apartment scouting and am hoping not to exceed $800 per month (I will be traveling with suitcases and will need to properly store them). The apartments I am looking at do not require a security deposit or key money, but will probably come with a guarantor fee.
Now because I'm not going over there through one of the more common avenues - through a university or a job - I have to do it myself. Real life has meant that I've had to dig into my bank balance a bit, and after paying for the first six months I'm a little under the 2 million yen (~$14k) threshold that Immigration likes to see for a year's study. I'm lucky enough in that I will at least have a regular source of (unearned) income, as well as a financial sponsor; it's just the bank balance, flight, and accommodation that are hanging me up. Right now I am setting the initial goal at $3000, but I expect to move those goalposts at least once. Any extra will go towards a flight home for the Christmas holidays in December. After that, it'll go towards paying down my credit cards as much as I can prior to leaving the United States.
I can provide my conditional letter of acceptance from ISI, as well as the school invoice and receipt of the bank transfer for the first six months of tuition upon request (identifying information redacted, of course).
Because there's still a couple of months until I'm set to fly out I put together a GoFundMe (now that's a name I haven't used in a while) to idly collect whatever help I can. At the very least I just need this post to circulate enough to eventually cast a wider net outside of Tungle.hell.
GoFundMe
If you can't use GFM, V3nmo and P4ypal are also options:
V3nmo: @/venus3palette
P4ypal: @/fantasytheater
Again: I'm not in that much of a hurry, and the situation isn't dire! Thank you for combing my wall of text!!!!
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bekolxeram · 18 days ago
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I had an idea of Buck finding out who Maurice was through Athena months ago. No one gave me that fic, I guess I'd better feed myself. I've never written any fic before, (You read that right, I don't mean for this fandom, I've never written any fic in my life) so I was planning for a short little humorous piece. Well, I'm around 2/3 of the way done, and it's already over 2.5k words long. I don't think I'll able to finish it in the very near future, and I still don't have an AO3 account, so I decide to share the first half of it with you? To give myself the motivation to keep writing?
I just want to get my ideas out there, I'll probably correct the grammar and refine the word choices when I finish the whole thing. Please enjoy and give me feedback. (Gently, it's my first time writing anything fictional outside of high school English exam)
The first time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at Chimney and Maddie’s hospital wedding.
Neither his sister nor his now brother-in-law had much luck in love. Murderous ex, surprise pregnancy, all sorts of trauma, mental health struggle, break up, make up, you name it, they had been through it all. Even on their wedding day, the universe decided to sprinkle in a little viral encephalitis as a last minute wedding gift. Any other couple would have taken all this as a sign of destiny’s disapproval of their relationship, but not Chimney and Maddie. Life kept trying to set them apart, but they chose to get back together, time and time again. Even when they were deep in delirium, when they had lost all sense of self, they always instinctively crawled back to one another, like it was in their very nature to love each other.
Buck agreed with his mother, getting married at a hospital was indeed appropriate. Plenty of newlyweds said their vows just for the sake of traditions, but when Maddie and Chimney pledged to their lives to each other, in sickness and in health, they had their entire relationship to back it up.
Buck was ecstatic, when Bobby pronounced them officially married. He envisioned how the day would be panning out quite differently, but he could not complain. Sure, he would prefer to have his date by his side, but as a firefighter himself, he understood the safety of the city was more important than his own feelings. If anything, on that day, he learned that life would not always let you have your dream wedding, or your dream date, but as long as you treasure and prioritize each other, everything would work out in the end.
Then Tommy walked into the hospital, still in his turnout gear, covered in soot, all apologetic.
Buck just knew he had to close their distance, taste the alluring flavor of smoke straight from his lips.
Tommy came, without stopping by to get changed or to wash up, because the wedding was important to Buck, because he promised to come. Buck once thought duty and romance was a question of either/or, but Tommy made enough of an effort to make them both work.
Buck knew very well how dirty his face must have been after making out aggressively with his date, but he did not care one bit. He had not been this happy for so long, he wanted everyone in the room to see how elated he was. He wanted to wear his happiness on his face.
He briefly congratulated the newlyweds. His sister, like the caretaker she was, pulled out a baby wipe for him to clean up his lower face. He tried his best to wipe off all the soot, then he took a piece a cake and started looking around the room for his date. He found Tommy having a conversation with the Wilsons.
“Hey,” Buck put his hand on Tommy’s lower back, “What are you guys talking about?”
“Just what an entrance you two have made,” Hen said with a smirk. Karen was struggling to hide her chuckle.
“Look at him, can you blame me?” Buck gazed adoringly at Tommy, “I was planning to show him off on the dancefloor anyway.”
“You’re full of surprise, Evan, you know that?” Tommy smiled, the ocean blue in his eyes filled Buck’s heart with affection.
“I’m sure it went a lot better than the last time you tried kissing someone in front of me,” Hen interrupted, with a devilish grin.
“Huh?” Tommy reacted, puzzled.
“Maurice.” The Wilsons were fully giggling at this point.
“Oh no.” Tommy covered half of his face with one of his hands, seemingly embarrassed by Hen’s teasing, “You guys are never going to let me live this down, aren’t you?”
The conversation kept flowing, but Buck was deafened by the thousands of questions in his head.
Who’s Maurice? Why have I never heard of him? Why was Tommy trying to kiss him? In front of Hen too? Was he Tommy’s crush? Who rejected him? No, were they… together?
“Evan?” Tommy noticed Buck’s lapse in focus.
“Uh… yes… yes, Tommy?”
“The cake?” Tommy pointed at the piece of dessert in Buck’s hand.
“Sure… Of course.” Buck handed the plate over. He really wanted to find out more about this Maurice, but at the same time, he recognized the recency of his budding romance with Tommy. Tommy would get around to mentioning this mysterious figure from his past eventually, Buck thought, so he decided to let it go for now.
“Sorry, I haven’t eaten since last night. I’m starving.” Tommy explained, while shoving a sizable chunk of wedding cake into his mouth. “Mmm, this is so good. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.” This man loved his cake, even the soot and fatigue on his face could not hide the genuine joy radiating from his face, in all its crinkly, wrinkly glory.
“The cake huh? Is that all?” Buck asked, flirtatiously.
Tommy flirted back, with his signature deadpan expression but burning lust in his eyes, “Well, I have to refuel my body before engaging in whatever activities await us tonight.”
Buck’s heart skipped a beat, probably from the sudden rush of blood down south. Yeah, Maurice could wait.
The second time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at the medal ceremony.
It was supposed to be a joyous occasion.
Not only did none of them get fired, they were all given medals for borrowing LAFD property and leading a pre-authorized rescue mission off the coast of Mexico. None of that would have been possible without the pilot. Yes, all of them played their part in saving Bobby and Athena from the sinking cruise ship, but Tommy in particular put his career, even his own life at risk just to help a few old colleagues he had not seen for years, just because there might be people in need. Judge him all you want, but seeing Tommy on that stage, being awarded for his skills and heroism, Buck simply could not conceal the fondness and enamorment written all over his face. Bobby and Athena being alive and well, looking like a classic Hollywood power couple, was obviously the most important part, Buck told himself. Although, Tommy being appreciated for the absolute ace he was, while in his dress blue, came as a close second.
The way the rigid fabric splayed across the pilot’s strong muscular body, buttons holding on for dear life against his bulging pecs, pants just tight enough to accentuate the curvature of his glutes, a feature Buck found enticing in all genders. Buck was not alone in ogling the real life erotic fantasy in front of him, about that he was sure, but he took comfort in knowing he was the only one there who got to touch this body, to worship it, to savor every inch of it, to feel it against his own. He might have almost missed his own call to the stage because he was too busy gawking at his boyfriend.
He was looking forward to celebrate this moment with his loved ones, maybe a little foreplay in costume with Tommy too, until Gerrard showed up and ruined everything.
Upon spotting the former 118 captain, Tommy looked as if he had seen a ghost.
The second Gerrard made a limp wrist gesture at Tommy, insinuating a homophobic slur, Buck realized he was more than an ignorant old man. He barely skirted the edge of blatant bigotry just to abuse his targets while staying on the side of possible deniability. If he used merely 10% of his brain power allocated for creative insults, Los Angeles would be a much safer place.
Tommy was clearly upset after their unexpected encounter with Gerrard. He was forking the food on his plate, without eating any, then abruptly, he stood up, “I don’t feel like eating these right now. I’m gonna get some cake, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Buck gave him a forced smile and a small peck to his temple, then he sent his boyfriend to his beloved sweet treat.
“I’m worried about him,” Buck turned to Chimney, “I’ve never seen him like this before, being so… small.”
“Working under Gerrard was not exactly a fun time worth keeping in your memory” Chimney sighed. “Like most of us, it took Tommy a long time and a lot of soul searching to become who he is right now. He did have a fat head back in the days, but I can’t say I blame the guy. Sometimes you do things you’ll regret further down the road just to survive at the moment.”
“Yeah… he told me the 118 was a regressive place back then.”
“Gerrard isn’t just another asshole, he’s an asshole with power, particularly power over his people’s safety. Tommy almost died because of him.”
“I know… Gas explosion, right? He said you saved his life.”
“I guess I did, but hey, Gerrard only gave me one month of KP duty as a reward, so that was a plus,” Chimney snickered, sarcastically.
“He punished you for saving Tommy’s life?” Buck never fully grasped the injustice, mistreatment, and suffering his loved ones faced under Gerrard’s reign of terror. He made a mental note to thank Bobby later for his gentle fatherly guidance.
“That’s who he is, Buck. All power trip, no leadership. I’ve never seen Tommy so scared of somebody,” Chimney continues, “except maybe... Maurice.”
Maurice, this name again. Buck still knew close to nothing about this cryptic individual.
Tommy was very upfront about how abrasive his was in his youth. Having to desperately hide his true self from his abusive father, then intolerant military policy, and finally his homophobic superior, he had learned very early on that the best defense was a solid offense. He was cold, distant, downright rude to anyone and everyone who tried getting too close, to the truth, to his desire, to his heart. So if Tommy was reluctant to share the parts of his life that he was less than proud of, Buck would not try to pry… At least until Chimney told him how fearful Tommy was of Maurice.
“Who…” Just as Buck opened his mouth, his brother in law rose from his seat, grabbing the red wine filled glass with him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this wine to my wife.”
As soon as Chimney left, Tommy returned with a piece of cake in his hand and a subtle smile on his face.
“Heyy-” Tommy greeted Buck in his usual playful tone.
“Hey, feeling better?” Buck was relieved, sensing Tommy’s change of mood.
“Um…” Tommy looked down, seemingly pondering. Then he retook the seat he previously occupied, the one right next to Buck, and hooked one of his feet under his boyfriend’s chair. He gave the chair a swift, firm tug, and in the blink of an eye, the physical distance between them vanished.
“Now I am,” Tommy murmured with his deep, gravelly voice.
Just like that, the rest of the room ceased to exist for Buck. No Gerrard, no Maurice, only Tommy. Buck’s fingers slowly slid towards the strong, burly thigh leaning against his own, but Tommy stopped him on his track, by grabbing his inquisitive hand.
“This is not exactly... appropriate for work, don’t you think?”, Tommy said, without letting go of Buck. “People may have questions if they see us.” His grip tightened, just enough to reignite the fervent desire building up between them since the start of the day. “Hen and Karen asked me just now about my intentions with you, if they are…” He looked down at the shinny medal currently decorating his boyfriend’s chest, and used his free hand to adjust the ribbon, “honorable.”
“And what did you say?” Buck asked breathlessly, almost panting.
“I told them, we’re taking it very slow…” Tommy inched closer and closer. “You’re taking the lead, I’m just trying to keep up…” His lips ghosted over Buck’s cheek, then he whispered into his ear, “Where should we go now?”
Buck responded by simply dragging Tommy onto the station rooftop. With the “no visitors” sign blocking the stairs, it was the perfect place for some private pastime.
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formula1fanfiction · 6 days ago
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Max Verstappen / George Russell
Title: It started pretty slowly
Pairing: Max Verstappen / George Russell
Characters: Max Verstappen, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton
Prompt: Please could I have alpha Max finding venerable omega George in heat in the paddock and max really wants him, but he asks Lewis permission first? Thnx
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It's the end of another underwhelming race weekend for Max, Lando has closed in a fair chunk of points, it's not really worrying him, not yet anyway. The twenty second penalty just means he had to stay way later than everyone else for a debrief and telling off, what a joke. The paddock is practically empty now, it's dark outside. There's a few stray people cleaning things up, but that's about it.
He's about to get into a car and drive home, when he hears a distressed whine coming from behind the bins, at first he thinks it's a lost cat until he smells it, the unmistakable scent of an unmated omega in heat. The omega must be pretty far gone, judging by how strong the scent is. Despite what people think, he's not as heartless as they make him out to be, so he goes to help. It puts him on edge a little bit, there's a handful of omega drivers in the paddock, he hopes it's not one of them in a dangerous vulnerable position.  
It is one of his fellow drivers, he finds George Russell curled up besides a mess of broken carbon fibre, still in his race suit, looking worse for wear. "George?" He doesn't know to approach, he wants to help but he doesn't want startle to omega into a panic. He closes the distance, with one step at a time.
"Alpha." George crawls forward, his pupils dilating completely. This is much worse than the thought. "Let's help you up, okay?" George stares blankly, as Max wraps an arm around his waist and helps him up. The back of his hand, makes contact with George's ass and it's dripping wet with slick. This is torture! George mewls at that and Max's own cock takes an interest, fuck sake.
"Max, my max? Alpha?" George purrs cat like and rubs his face into Max's neck. He wants George so badly, but how can he say yes, he's quite sure George doesn't even know where he is right now. "I'm going to call Lewis, okay? He's a fellow omega, he's safe okay" George ignores him, and keeps nuzzling.
Lewis picks up on the first ring, he must know it's something important because he's never had to phone Lewis in his life. "Please help, I found George in the paddock behind the bins, he's pretty far gone in heat-" Lewis doesn't let him finish. "Don't touch him, he can't consent." Well obviously, does Lewis think he's just going to take George behind the bins? "I just want to know what to do, what the fuck?"
"Sorry, he disappeared after the race, we knew his heat had come early and thought he had gone home to take care of it. Can you take him back to your hotel, and i'll pick him up from there?" Max agrees, but he can't help but feel a bit pissed about it, don't Mercedes take care of their omega's? He quickly gives Lewis his address, George has now climbed into his lap and is happily purring there. This isn't going to be easy, the scent is so overwhelming his cock is twitching uncontrollably in his pants.
"Come on let's get into my car, i'll get you to safety okay?" George blinks, his eyes turning fully black, fuck his heat riddled brain has interrupted that as something else.  "Yes alpha, knot? Max's knot yes?" The fact he can't form any kind of sentence is slightly worrying but George gets into the car easily, however the drive back can't be described as easy, George is whining at the loss of contact and Max has to mouth breathe the entire way home to stop him crashing the car.   
Infuriatingly Lewis isn't waiting for them, so Max has to take George back into his room, to keep him safe, which sends the omega crazy. Max is a messy person, there are various items of clothing strewn around the room. George seems to be delighted by this and collects all the clothing, scenting it and making it into what seems to be some kind of nest. It's so adorable, Max really wants him. It's going to break his heart to say no, he's trying so hard and he's going to have to turn him down.
"Alpha, nest?" George pats the place beside him as he struggles with the zip on his race suit. "Do you want me to help you take it off?" There's fire proofs under there it's fine, he tells himself  as he pulls down the zipper. He knows he's made a mistake, the smell of George's slick becomes overwhelming. "Want you, alpha." George pulls him into the nest and starts scenting him. It feels so nice.
George hisses at the knock of the door. "No, no Max, my Max no." George cries as Max climbs out of the nest, and goes to open the door. Lewis shoots him a disapproving glance at the obvious erection in his sweat pants. Lewis collects George's race suit from the floor and makes his way to the nest.
"Why did you let him nest with your clothes? And let him scent you, what the fuck Max? This heat is going to be horrible for him now." Max wants to cry, he didn't want to make this any worse, he loves George and just wanted to do right by him. Max is close to tears when Lewis climbs into the nest, there seems to be some kind of omega communication, Max can't understand a word, it's obviously not English.
"Hurry up Lewis, this is torture for the both of us." Lewis looks him up and down an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you want him or do you want him?"
"Obviously I want him, I want to take care of him. Do you think I would have done all this if I had just wanted to fuck him?" He knows he's being irrationally angry but when there is an omega in a nest of your clothes, begging for you it's hard, especially when you want to wrap your arms around said omega and make him feel loved and cared for, both in heat and not in heat.
"Okay." Lewis nuzzles George's nose. "I'm confident he wants this too, just take care of him. He's sensitive, don't be too rough with him or anything." Max nods, feeling relieved, Lewis wishes his fellow omega and safe heat and leaves, not without threatening Max on the way out. "Look after him and call me if you need anything."
"Alpha?" George's scent has turned sour, his alpha abandoning him to talk to another omega will be the cause of that. "What do you want my sweet little omega?" George pats his nest, and Max climbs in obediently.
"Aww sweetheart, are you sure you want this?" George responds by pressing his nose into Max's hoodie and breathes in, purring happily. "I take that as a yes." George's skin is burning hot, his heat must be borderline painful for him now. "Come on sweetheart, let's take this top off you, you're too hot." George lets Max undress him, down to his boxer shorts, they are so wet the fabric has turned from light grey to dark. Max's cock is screaming at him with interest, but he wants to take this at George's pace.
"Alpha, cold." Max chuckles, there is no way, he's sweating so badly that his hair is stuck to his forehead, he's quite sure George just wants to cuddle and if that's what he wants that's what he'll get. "Shall we take this to the bed? I don't want to ruin your pretty little nest." George purrs in delight, with the compliment of the nest. He lets Max take him from the nest and onto the bed.
They cuddle on top of the covers, Max doesn't want George to overheat, his head is buried inside of Max's neck. It's almost intoxicating for Max, the smell of the omega in heat, is just so overwhelming it's taking every ounce of his self control not to jump  him right now, but if George needs cuddles first, that's exactly what Max will give to him.
"Alpha wants?" George giggles like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, he's not even sure what George is trying to say, Max's knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping onto the covers, not wanting to take advantage of the omega. George whines, he was clearly asking some kind of question.
"Knot?" He tries again, rolling off Max and presenting himself, fuck. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods. "Alpha, please." Max helps George out of his dripping wet boxer shorts and presses three fingers inside, he's never had an omega so wet before.
Max can start to feel his instincts kick in, his own brain going fuzzy at this. "George? Are you really sure you want this?" George whines again, leaning forward onto his elbows to push his ass up even higher. "Alpha." Max chuckles. "Okay, I understand, you needy little thing."
"let me take care of you, sweet heart." George yelps in delight as his legs are pulled backwards and practically wrapped around Max's neck. George is dripping wet, Max licks a swipe across his hole and tastes that sweet slick. George moans in pleasure, Max keeps licking up the slick around his wet entrance, then lets his tongue slip inside. What he really wants is to, suck George completely dry but there's just too much of it. George shudders below him as he comes all over the bed sheets. Max pulls away, the slick glistening on his chain.   
"Poor baby, you're a mess aren't you?" George is a withering mess now, Max has pulled away from him. That orgasm has clearly done absolutely nothing to help  him. "Does my little omega, need more?" George just nods, and presents himself for a second time "What do you need baby?"
"Knot, knot, knot." His whole body is trembling, he needs this badly. Max doesn't want to make him wait any longer. "I'll give you my knot, my sweet little omega." George purrs in delight. "Please."
Max takes off his own clothes, George is in a vulnerable state already, so out of respect he wants to be fully naked too. "Are you ready, sweet omega?" Max can't quite resist the kiss on the back of his sweaty head. George moans. "Alpha." Max holds his hips very gently and sinks inside.
George moans and presses his face into the soft pillow, as Max pushes into him inch by inch. He's so wet, it's like a knife through warm butter as he bottoms out inside of him. Sparks fly, it feels like George's body was made to accept his cock. His teeth ache, from the overwhelming need to bite the omega.  
Max doesn't bother to stall, George doesn't need him to do so, all he wants is a knot, he covers George's body with his own and starts slowly thrusting into him, letting George feel every inch of his thick cock. He can't bite down, instead he sucks a nice purple bruises onto George' neck, that will have to do for now.
"More, more." George writhers underneath him, pushing his hips up to meet Max's thrust, who had slowed down a little too much when sucking the mark onto his neck. "Sorry my little love." Max doesn't need to be told twice, he pulls himself out of George's neck and starts to thrust into him harder and deeper. George mewls in delight at finally getting what he wants, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust looking for that little bundles of nerves, that he knows will fill George full of pleasure.  
"Yes, alpha, yes, yes." George throws his head back, his mating gland popping alarmingly, torturing Max. He's loving the moans of pleasure falling from George's lips, loving that he's the one giving the omega this much pleasure as he continues to hit his prostate with every thrust.
"Does this cute little omega, want to cum?" Max wraps his fist around George's leaking cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts. George buckles and withers underneath him, with the pleasure. It doesn't take much longer, with the constant slamming onto his prostate and the skill of Max's hand. He cums for the second time, spraying the bed sheets below him. This orgasm does nothing, his cock stays hard and twitches furiously in his hand.
"Knot, hurts alpha, knot." George looks like he's on the verge of tears. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods and rests his head on the pillow. Max knows it won't be much longer, his knot has already swelled alarmingly, he just needs it to catch now. He squeezes down on George's tiny waist and speeds up his thrusts.
Max's instincts fully take over as the knot starts to catch. "Going to claim you baby, you're my little omega, he's still got enough senses to not bite George where it matters, instead he bites down on George's shoulder, who yelps in pleasured pain as he cums again. Max's knot is almost there now, he thrusts into George a few more times and soon they are fully locked together.
George lets out a content little sigh, Max's mind comes back to him, he swipes away the blood from George's shoulder and pulls him into a sort of spooning position. His heart is pounding with fear, George hasn't said a word yet.
"Blimey Max, i'm so sorry." He sniffs, going stiff in Max's arms. Something's wrong, there's a change in his scent and he's trying to shuffle as far as can from Max, while still being attached to him. "What are you sorry for?"
"For forcing you to knot me, I get really clingy and embarrassing when i'm in heat. As soon as this pops, i'll be out of your hair don't worry, i'll spend the rest of my heat with toys." Max growls, it's so loud George jumps a little. "Look if you don't want me and you would rather have your toys that's fine, but i'm happy to help you out, I really like you."
Max's knot chooses that exact moment to pop, and he's able to take George into his arms, they are face to face now, his big blue eyes are watery from unshed tears. "I've wanted you for so long Max, i'm sorry for this, i'm on birth control." Max swipes George's tears away with his thumbs. "I had to bite your shoulder, my instincts were screaming at me to mate you, I want you too."
George looks confused, his lashes are clumped together with tears. "You want me? Why?" The look of confusion, hurts a little bit, he looks genuinely shocked that anyone would want him. "I like you, you don't let your status rule you. I hate soppy little omega's who just roll over for alpha's." George giggles at this, his skin is starting to get hot again. "I don't think i'd get very far as an omega in motor sports with that attitude."
The smell of slick starts filling up the room again. "I'm- Are you sure Max?" Max pins George down onto the mattress and growls. "Do you think i'm going to miss the chance to ruin this little omega for the second time? No and after all of this we'll talk about making this a regular thing."
"Bite me alpha." Fuck, this heat is going to be much harder than he thought.      
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eggtartz · 1 year ago
Text
✧ 3rd October ✧
Eraserhead // Lazy (f! teacher reader)
kinktober masterlist
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warnings : stressed aizawa, deepthroat, blowjobs, cum eating
these days at UA were especially stressful for the ground hero, eraserhead. not only his class getting into a direct attack with the villains, now they also needed to be held in dorms to ensure their safety after a second attack from the league of villains during their camp with pro heros, wild, wild pussycats.
then theres the whole deal of internships after the school festival and now the tired hero slash teacher classroom is going through dozens of applications of offers for his students, each must be reviewed carefully for the sake of the students quirks growth.
aizawa sighed as he slumped on the chair, putting away his scarf. his two students in particular has been fighting, after curfew and at a restricted area while using quirks. the both had amazing powers but horrendous dynamic that he frustratedly choked both of them in his binding scarf earlier. you were napping as the light from the computer screen turned on again. "hm? Is eraserhead still working on his shift?" you asked groggily, slowly sitting up to gaze at him, his long hair tied in a bun. "sorry, had to take care of the brats again. go back to sleep, i'll be there" he said without looking at you. you pouted as you silently hugged him from behind all the while rubbing his shoulders. "you haven't had a decent sleep after USJ, you realize right?" you gently said as he lightly sighed "it wasn't your fault" you said again, much softer this time as he hugged you back, tugging your forearm "im tired, so tired" he said under his breath that if you weren't behind him, you wouldn't have caught it. "i know, shouta, let me help you take some rest" you kissed the side of his head.
"really? thanks, you really know how to help me all the time" he smiled gingerly and kissed your temple. you pushed his chair slightly back as you went on your knees, unzipping his pants while he's slowly going through applications again. his boxers were strained as you fished out his half hard cock, kissing the tip that made him hiss. "haven't done this in what? three weeks?" he glanced down to you "mmh, more than a month I think" you said, giving slow and soft licks to the cockhead, warming it up as aizawa grunted in relief. your two hands are on his shaft as you lubricated it with your drool, licking and kissing it. aizawa's hand gripped the mouse he's using as his muscles got tense, until he felt a hand on his stomach "relax, shouta. let me do deal with everything" you said, swirling his cock in your mouth before slowly going down with it.
aizawa took a hair band on the desk and tied your hair in a ponytail, holding the ponytail upwards as you bobbed your head slowly, doing it repeatedly while licking his hard cock "you're.. really good. like always" aizawa frowned as he felt you humming, his cock nearing your throat. he can practically feel his sensitive dick at the edge of your tight throat but he held himself back, although it was growing difficult with how stubborn you are.
rubbing his slick cock, your lips went to find his balls and licked them. you fondled them gently as aizawa muttered curses under his breath. his balls was getting wet over how much saliva dn precum smeared on it as you gazed up to him "shouta? do you like it?" you purred, teasing his cockhead with your nails. "y-yeah.. it's really good. you give.. amazing blowjobs.." he panted as you took him inside your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks as you relaxed your throat and gagging on him. your nails buried on his thighs as you gurgled on his cock, enjoying the delicious girth stretching your throat and milking him dry.
aizawa in the meanwhile is moaning in pleasure, frantic hands trying not to shove you deeper to blow his aching cock. his hands rested on your jaw as he looked up to the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing with every saliva he's swallowing as he tried not to be too noisy. sweat started to drip on his forehead as you gagged on his cock, sounds of your whining and constant gurgles making aizawa at the edge. "h-hell.. I think I'm close.. mm, where do I cum darling?" he asked although you were adamant on keeping his cock in your throat.
you took out his dick and tapped the precum on your tongue, looking up to him "shoot it inside my throat.. please.. want your cum" you softly moaned, your hands going up and down his foreskin as he gripped your jaw again "you want help me, right?" he asked, getting a nod
aizawa smirked as he pushed his cock in your mouth again, two hands on the back of your head as he bullied himself inside you. you gurgled and gagged, eyes closed and hands are on your thighs as he used your throat like a fleshlight. he stood up from his chair and dragged you further from the desk, smearing precum on your face and bent down to kiss "look at that, such a pretty face" he cooed as he plunged himself right back in, forcing you to breath with your nose as you relaxed your throat. his cock was getting bigger (if possible) as he deepthroated you, his thrusts getting frantic as he chased his orgasm
"here it comes.. my fucking load!" he grunted, pushing his cum deep inside, choking your throat slightly as he felt his cum getting swallowed. when he pulled out, you opened your mouth as aizawa see it's already clean, smiling satisfyingly.
"that's a good girl. wanna go for another one?"
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